10a
[ filth roulette~ ]@daredefender10A
There was something absolutely electrifying about the way he touched her, a mere brush of his fingers against her skin enough to send pleasant goosebumps rippling across it. Perhaps it was the fact that this was the way he saw her, the notion that he was mapping every inch of her in the eye of his mind. And as such, he could see through her, find out more about her than anyone else ever had.
Past lovers would stare at the bruises littering her body, trophies of her victories - some in basketball, most in fights - that always brought questions she had no patience for. Matt couldn’t see the gradients painting the timeline of her nightly activities usually hidden by her clothes.
He found every childhood scar instead, those that had blanched and blended into her skin, indiscernible to the eye but not to his hands. Every slight divot from old cuts, every raised line from stitched up wounds, his fingers lingered minutely over them, just long enough to caress them, acknowledge them, before moving on without asking.
Modesty was not something she bothered with, but standing before a blind man who could touch every crack in her soul without hurting her, Chris felt naked in a way she never had before. A vulnerability that would normally grate on her nerves, make her defensive to the point of pushing everyone away. And yet, with him, she didn’t have to feel self-conscious in her own marred skin, didn’t have to explain that sometimes the only way to make the hurt stop was to hurt someplace else.
“Matt...” By the time his lips joined in and kissed their way down her body, setting her nerve endings ablaze, she was past overwhelmed. Admiration and gratitude and a whole range of emotions mixing into the attraction and desire she already felt for him. “Touch me more...” She begged, one hand sinking into the softness of his hair while the other urged his fingers to grip her tighter.
