Fic:: Teeter on the Edge.
Face tilted towards the sky, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted in a knowing smile. The water dripping, no, flowing down her body is one of the most amazing things she’s felt.
She lets out a low groan, biting her lip, her hands clenching and unclenching just a few inches from her sides.
She releases a staggered breath, her pulse throbbing far lower than she’s sure it’s intended to go.
Her breath hitches as loud grumbling rolls across the sky and a flash of light follows shortly after, and she feels a new, but not unfamiliar, kind of wetness.
She grins as her tongue darts out to capture a few droplets that were resting on her lips, smiles as more replaces what she just took.
She shivers and can’t help but let a laugh escape, knowing it isn’t because her skin is cold.
A moan escapes, unwillingly, as the rain starts to come down harder, faster and the pulse between her legs increases with it.
She brings a hand under her shirt, tracing unknown patterns on her skin, wanting but reluctant to travel lower in fear of ruining the feelings coursing through her.
Her other hand reaches up and her fingers slowly trail down from her lips to tease designs on her bare neck and shoulders.
She knows her breathing has picked up in pace, not because she can hear it, but because she starts to feel light headed.
This feeling, this insane, wonderful- intense feeling is something she’ll never tire of.
When she feels her body start to shake she knows, knows, she needs to walk away. Knows staying out here any longer will undoubtedly make her come undone.
She slowly, agonizingly slowly, removes her hands from her heated skin. Takes a step back, getting herself ready to walk away.
She has to walk away, she has to keep herself dangerously close to the edge, but not go flying over it.
So she does, her breath coming out in slow pants, her eyes so achingly heavy lidded with desire; and she walks inside, knowing that she can’t completely let go.
She licks her lips one last time tasting the rain, takes one last, deep breath, smelling the wet desire, feels it.
She’ll let go one day, but until then…until then she’ll teeter on the edge and enjoy the slow burn of frustration.