"Tonight, I'm in the hands of fate
I hand myself over on a plate now /
Come, pull my strings, watch me move
I'd do anything, please (I'm yours to keep)."
βBehind The Wheel - Depeche Mode
The red glow of your bedroom lights illuminates Mattheo's sharp features as he grins at you beneath the crimson hues.
(You'd insisted they're romantic. His mouth had been too busy to disagree.)
The relationship between you is still new; the giddiness of falling for someone lingers over your every interaction. His kisses sprout butterflies in your stomach. His smile knocks the breath straight from your lungs.
It's that very same smile that has your heart thudding with a nervous beat as his hand snakes around your neck and glides under your hair like it belongs. His thumb, left free, rubs circles into the side of your throat. His grip is firm; it makes you feel safe and secure in a way you never before knew anyone could.
Mattheo pulls you into a kiss, your lips brushing togetherβonce, twice, more; so chaste it makes your heart melt. When he finally pulls back, his dark eyes are sparkling with playful joy, ruby-red from the luminance.
It's the most gorgeous sight you've ever seen.
"You know," he murmurs, swiping his thumb up and down your neck, "I keep thinking how pretty you would look covered in hickeys." His grin turns predatory as he leans in at an angle and turns your neck in the direction of his hand, leaving your throat exposed to him. He begins to press firm kisses on the skin, each one slow and deliberate.
"Don't you dare," you breathe out in warning, even as goosebumps rise on your skin from the sensation. Damn him, and his soft lips, and his sultry grin, and absolutely everything else about him.
He sucks on the tough skin, his lips light enough to create a vacuum but not quite rough enough to leave marks. "I won't, pretty girl, don't worry," he hums in reassurance, though he's already found a new spot to worship with his attention. He licks a stripe up your neck, his tongue hot and wet. "But maybe one day..." His teeth graze on your skin, nip teasingly to wind you up as he continues, "One day, when we're all alone and no one's around to see..."
Your breath hitches in your throat, and your mind grows hazy from lust at even these simple gestures. He sucks a little bit harder, enough to leave a red mark that would fade by the next morning. You gasp quietly as he continues, "One day, like maybe on our honeymoon..." He punctuates the statement with another nip, but you barely notice it.
Honeymoon? He was already thinking about a honeymoon? You freeze, swallowing the lump in your throat as you listen to his seductive drawl.
"One day," he repeats, "I'll cover every inch of your body with my marks, until you're red and purple everywhere I can reach. Then, finally, everyone who ever looks at you will know that you're mine."
It's a hauntingly possessive statement for a relatively new relationship, but you can't hide the heated shiver it sends down your back. And you definitely can't hide your quiet moan when he goes ahead and sucks a love bite into your neck anyway.
At least he had the decency to do it where you can hide it with your hair, you manage to think before you kiss him senseless.
p.s.βwelp, my first post. big thank you to @puddlesoffrogs for the beta read, as well as my irl editor E. and huge thank you to everyone who put up with all my stubbornness in the pursuit of peer pressuring me to post my first fic/drabble, lol. love you all <3
