Meursault Limbus company-sexual desires~

Meursault didnt do romance

but friends with benefits didnt count

Meursault didnt do attachment Meursault didnt do relationships and Meursault surely didnt get sexually aroused. But you were a different cause- it seemed all this strict rules didnt apply to you it never did. You and Meursault were good friends, close friends, the type of friend Meursault trusted in battle the type of friend that made him feel something more that a empty hollow numbing cold. Meursault couldnt say he loved you but he refused to say he didnt so he kept it to Friends with Benefits

Friends who maybe slept together?

Friends who maybe Kissed

Friends who for sure made out once or twice

Thats all you guys were, friends with benefits- nothing less or nothing more. Meursault for a while was quite content with this- he was happy (though he wouldnt show it) with just being your friend- a friend who you occasionally slept with he had no issue with this and he had no plan to change it. keeping your relationship just friends with benefits kept it uncomplicated kept it simple kept it easy keeping your relationship unlabeled was easy

Easier than acknowledging it

Meursault was fine with just being a fuck friend he didnt mind he just liked your company. Or thats what he told himself repeatedly like some prayer. It came like a surprise to him- when had he started noticing your minute actions- like how your eyes crinkled when you smiled, or how you moved with that beautiful grace when in a mission- or how you sometimes got into arguments for fun. Meursault assumed noticing this must be normal i mean thats what friends do right? But then he started noticing things he had no right to notice. How your shirt pulled taught against your chest when you stretched your arms- how your slacks sometimes slid slightly down your hips and most traitorously how soft your lips looked

It sent Poor Meursault mad

He didnt know what really got into him- it felt like a horny roaring beast in his chest. A beast that demanded you to truly be his- to be more than a friend to actually be with him- Meursault had to mentally swat away the very graphic images popping up in his mind- like how your hands would feel on his chest and how your lips would whisper filthy promises. Meursault constantly felt hot and bothered his shirt often sticking to his skin in a irritating way it sent Meursault mad. But Meursault was a strong man he could resis-

After a mission Meursault managed to corner you in your room- he'd swiftly locked the door and stood in front of you not close enough to feel the heat radiating off your skin but close enough to see the color in your cheeks, Meursault had neve really requested to do anything you two normally ended up in bed from bad decisions and alcohol

But one thing leads to another

And now Meursaults pinning you down on your own bed his hands everywhere- one deftly ripping your shirt off and throwing it aside- his other hand working at his shirt his desperation was feverish enough to rip a few buttons clean- he only was able to managed to get his shirt to hang loosely open revealing his toned chest and torso, he pushed you back against the backboard the cool wood burning creating a painful contrast between your heated skin. Meursault held you in place spreading your thighs apart to make room for himself

He lazily undid the strap of your bra letting it fall loose to he could look at you properly- a deep groan rumbled in his chest and his eyes were hooded with something potent something dangerous, without giving warning he lowered his head leaving messy kisses filled with raw need against your sternum his hands holding you in place- one which was tangling through your hair, he sucked on your skin and nipple leaving salvia dripping from his lips almost obscenely- his pressed a deep kiss against the hollow of your throat then bit it gently soothing the sting with his tongue

"i need to taste every inch of you.. your sending me mad"

His voice was stripped of any pretense he sounded more raw than ever