Less than 500 words; Boris's POV.

Disclaimer: Nothing.

-Game-

I can feel my cheeks heating up; a blush is rising, reddening my skin at the surface. Its happening again, he's doing this to me again and I'm not stopping him. I can't, there is no point, no logic because then he would win. The breaths passing my lips, sharp intakes, hitched exhales feel as warm as his, tingling my cheek already fiery.

My eyes aren't fully open, lids almost closed but ajar, not enough to make out anything but a hazy blur yet that's how my vision looked even before he pushed me up against the wall and made my heart beat increase. He can feel it thumping on the bones of my rib cage and upon the flesh adjacent.

Everything has gone numb, the speed of my organ dissipating from my mind, my whole body disconnecting with any feeling, there's no shock when his fingers graze my shoulder; no shivers when his face nestles into my neck, my senses haven't heightened, instead diminished with no reaction, like always.

That's what he craves though, it is what he wants; he desires the awkward sensation that should consume me, the uneasiness in my movements, the unsure hesitation in my compliance, it's what makes him strive and do it over, once more like the first time.

This time, none of that is present because when those blue eyes swimming, drowning in his lust fluttered at me I knew the next steps and unfurling of the moment. He's trying to find a lone uncertainty, a simple vacillation for him to smother into acquiescence on my part and ease my dilemma till more afterwards erupt.

I simply was caught off guard even if I knew it was coming, the second sprung up so quickly, he shows such yearning for me that I couldn't help but try and suppress my nervosa at our debut but my common response of an amateur in his game of emotions stirring wasn't adequate. We both know this but he, the sly fox does not find it to his liking when we stand even in a domain where I should be inferior, sorting out confusion.

He breathes my name against my mouth and I try to speak his as the flush moderates and ebbs but conniving is his nature and I fall into his trap blindly. The gap between my lips for the soundless syllables is filled with his tongue irking me and mine teasingly, coaxingly when our foremost kiss was chaste, lingering but soft. This, this raw passion is different, overwhelming, feral, obliterating all but our mingling, the meshing, exploration, and savoring of our maws.

He knew then when we pushed back and forth the sweet taste of satisfaction; leaving me in a void of swirls, covetousness and sentiments he was succeeding in making me feel. I was undergoing sensations and that's what he wanted most of all because if I could experience this, maybe, in the future I could return his love.

-EndE-

This is a favorite of mine.