ARCHIVED TWHLAY I:II
ARCHIVED
The Way He Looks at You Series
Act I: The Way He Looks at You
Chapter 2: The Way He Touches You
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Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series
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Chapter Summary
You have to make a decision on if you were go willingly with Inquisitor Cal Kestis, or if you will find a new way to live after your heartbreak.
Rating: 18+
Words: 2.7K
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You probably could have resisted more. There wasn’t much point in trying to fight back. He was far more powerful than you, and you didn’t exactly have anything to fight for at the moment. So you followed him through the streets, he hadn’t given you any information about where you were going, that was beneath him. He told you to follow, and you obeyed. The Thirteenth Brother didn’t need to tell you the other option.
He’s walking in front of you, not once glancing back to confirm that you are still his shadow. You look around as you walk, noticing the sidelong looks and whispers of those nearby. You are too emotionally exhausted to care.
You are familiar with this part of town, the only area of interest is the landing bay. You know that the moment that he gets you aboard his ship, you’ll never be able to escape. Though you’re not sure you can escape him currently, perhaps you should try.
You look around to see if there’s enough of a distraction to make your escape. There’s a few groups of people you could try to disappear behind. You could duck into the maze of alleyways and attempt to find a hiding place, maybe you should just steal a ship, you’re good at flying.
“So you are going to attempt an escape.” He says simply. “I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
You glance at the back of his head as he continues to walk forward, wishing you could avoid thinking. You don’t have enough energy to resist. Even if you did, you don’t know how to protect your mind against his invasion.
“I wouldn’t recommend it, but you’re welcome to try, I might even give you a head start.” You can hear the amusement on his lips.
You don’t run, instead you stop following, staring right at him as you do so. He stops as well, turning to look at you. He examines you, a hint of interest in his overall unimpressed expression. Challenging you to make you move, he can sense the indecisiveness in your mind.
You stare at each other for a long moment; you haven’t decided whether to follow or run. There’s a blank spot in your mind and you aren’t even sure what you really want at this moment. Escaping means facing the pain of your lost relationship, restarting. Following is equally unknown, but it definitely means a loss of freedom. Complete freedom or lack thereof, both are equally terrifying and neither are what you want.
“So focused only on what you want.” He says in a steady tone. “An unreliable way to move through life.”
You blink, momentarily pulled from your own feelings. You're curious what else could make your decision. Should you decide based on duty? Familiarity? Safety? His expression is near unreadable and the indecision has rooted you to the earth unable to choose your path forward.
You wish you could go back, reverse time, and undo everything that led you to this moment. You are wishing so desperately for a third option, for anything to pull you away and put you anywhere else in space and time.
“What do you desire?” His eyes narrow slightly, demanding an answer. “Speak.”
You can only shake your head in response, unable to put anything into words right now. He steps forward, closing the distance but not touching you. He looks down his nose at you while you are staring at the collar of his uniform. Finally, you make the smallest decision possible and slowly tilt your head upward.
You allow yourself to scan your tired eyes up his throat. Despite your exhaustion, wicked thoughts creep in easily. You imagine damaging that perfect skin with bruises and bite marks. Regaining some control, you push the thought away but falter again. Moving upwards to his short beard, you envision the scratches it would leave behind on your inner thighs.
Now focused on his lips, you remember his words, ‘if you’re good, I’ll permit you the feel of my lips.’ He didn’t say where you would feel his lips, but your mind can’t think of a place you don’t want to feel them.
“This is the only time I will repeat myself. What do you desire?” His tone is low and threatening, demanding you pay attention.
You suck in a breath and only can whisper, “To feel.”
“To feel what?” he asks.
“Desired.” You raise your head, finally meeting his gaze. It’s intense, and it leaves you breathless. His eyes are dark and expecting, requiring that you submit everything to him. You never want to live without being looked at like this. It’s as if he can see everything that you are and he wants nothing more than to have all of it.
“Very good.” He reaches out and captures your right hand with his own. His fingers curl around the back of your hand. He uses his thumb to push on the junction where your fingers meet your palm, forcing them to remain open and prevent their curling around him. He pulls that hand upwards, slowly, never breaking eye contact. You watch as he brings the pads of your fingers directly in front of his mouth. He exhales slowly, heat dancing across their tips.
The moment the breath is gone, he captures the pad of your middle finger between his lips, kissing it slowly. His lips are warm to the touch and he ignites a fire that trails down your finger. You have never felt more alive. He loosens his grip slightly as he finishes the single, searing kiss. The pad lingers on his bottom lip, tugging the flesh down a fraction of an inch before he lowers your hand gently back towards the earth.
“I will give you a choice, follow me and I will give you exactly what you desire. Or turn and leave.” He releases your hand as it nears your side. “I will not retaliate, however, you will make this decision on your own.”
He then turns around and walks away without looking back. You stand there dumbfounded for a moment. Trying to recover from the most intimate moment of your life. A kiss on one finger, it makes little sense, you shouldn’t feel this undone by something as insignificant as what he did. But it was never about the small kiss, it was about the way he looked at you while he did it.
The movement of your feet alerts your brain that they have decided for you. You hurry to catch up and fall into place behind him as he leads you onto his ship. He closes the loading door and you wonder if you made the right choice. You watch as the outside world slowly disappears behind the metal. All doubt leaves as he turns to face you, giving you the look you’ve so quickly grown addicted to.
“You will not address me unless spoken to, and when you address me, it will be by my proper title. However, when we are alone, I permit you to call me by my old name, Cal.” He says.
You nod, “Cal.” You say slowly, feeling how you move your tongue while saying it. “Do you want my name?”
“I have no interest in knowing your name, from this point forward, that name never existed. I don’t want to know who you were before this. If I were to find out, I am expected to carry out my duties.” His stern expression showing a deeper meaning.
“I understand.” You say, confirming that your life before this never happened.
You give him a confused look, unsure why he is choosing to overlook the information in your head. Inquisitors take what they want without concern for others. He also didn’t force you to board his ship, instead giving you the choice to turn and leave. His actions are perplexing but you lack the emotional energy to dwell.
“Find a seat.” He says and turns towards the cockpit, seating himself in the front most seat. Without hesitation you follow and take one of the two seats behind Cal. You can’t help but to lean forward slightly to see the controls. You’ve never been in a Scythe before and are curious to see the features. Watching him with interest as he powers up the ship and navigates the craft upwards before flying forwards to escape the atmosphere.
Once safely amongst the stars, Cal enters the destination coordinates and puts the ship into autopilot. He stands, blocking the navigation system with his body, gesturing for you to get up as well and leave the vicinity. You do as you're told and before you head towards the back of the craft; he grabs your arm gently.
“Eavesdropping is a quick way to shorten your life.” He says, his eyes trying to convey an underlying warning. He then releases you and after you move past the threshold, a wall slides out to split the small ship into two.
You hear him speaking, obviously communicating with someone else in the Empire. Your first instinct is to press your ear against the wall and listen in, as you had been doing for so many years. But you push it aside, instead stepping further away from the conversation and moving towards the back of the ship.
There’s not a large interior; the small room is mostly empty but has four cushioned seats lining the walls. You can assume the open space in the middle is used to hold supplies, or prisoners. You go to take the furthest seat on the right side, unsure what to do with yourself.
Your thoughts drift to Theo, replaying the events of yesterday and this morning. Wondering what he would think of you now, maybe he wouldn’t care. You feel a deep sadness at the loss. Everything has only gotten worse the longer you’ve lived. Losing your family ten years ago, Theo’s choice to step away from your relationship, and now your freedom is gone. Sitting alone in this room it’s hard to remember why you didn’t choose to leave and start over.
You continue to dwell on the losses and pain, unaware of how much time has passed. Eventually the wall slides back open and Cal approaches you. His face is mostly the same expression as before, only slight movements give away any sense of his true feelings. He holds the same intense gaze that is shadowed by his brow, but this time the position of his jaw lets on his annoyance.
“Your thoughts are distracting.” Cal says simply. He strides over to sit in the seat next to yours, his back remains straight. His eyebrow raises marginally, waiting for your response.
You nod slowly, trying to form the right words. “I’m processing.”
“You were crying at the market.” He says.
“Yes,” you say, staring at the floor.
“Are you going to keep doing that?” He asks.
You meet his eyes, “Are you ordering me to not do it again?”
The edges of his eyes crease the tiniest bit as if he’s amused by your question. He repositions his body turning more to face you. “No, but your feelings are unpredictable. Either sadness or lust, with very little warning in between.”
You stare at him a moment, wanting to feel angered by his comment, but his looks disarm you. He tilts his head in curiosity, trying to keep up with your ever changing emotions. His eyes pierce your soul, and you love it.
You find your mind wandering again, picturing that same expression looking up at you from between your legs. Your stomach flips in excitement. You’re curious what he looks like when he comes undone. If he closes his eyes and scrunches his freckled nose. Or if he throws his head back, his mouth open, sighing in ecstasy.
He silently observes you the entire time. You know he is listening in, hearing every thought, but he barely shows more than a small tug at the corner of his mouth.
He sits up slightly and leans in, hinging at the hips, taking a firm interest in your thoughts. You don’t consider stopping your desires or looking away. You know you should feel uncomfortable having someone listen in to your fantasies about them, but it’s so incredibly arousing. Something about the way he focuses on you makes it feel so good. He doesn’t shy away from these thoughts, and doesn’t get embarrassed. He only looks at you exactly how you want him to and listens.
You remember how he kissed your fingertip, wondering if he would do everything with his intoxicating mouth similarly. You imagine how slow he would trail kisses down your neck. Refusing to move from one kiss to the next until the noise you made satisfied him. The way he might refuse to let you press your lips to his until you begged just right. He barely had to do anything to turn you on, his eyes and slow kisses were enough.
He stands, moving in front of your chair. Your thoughts quiet immediately. Bending down, he places his hands on the armrests, caging you in. He leans forward, bringing his face close to yours. You inhale sharply, not entirely sure what his next move will be. He stares down and you find yourself unable to continue breathing. All you can do is look back into his pretty eyes.
Then without warning, he drops into a squat in front of you, and you finally exhale. He removes his left hand from your armrest, reaches down slowly to the hem of your skirt. Pushes his index and middle finger under the black fabric, just to the first knuckle. He then curls his fingers quickly, flipping the bottom inch of your skirt back, folding the fabric upon itself. You let out a small gasp.
“You’ll need new clothes, you’ve stored dangerous memories in these,” Cal gives a warning look. “You look pretty in black, I’ll find something at our next stop.”
He then stands, straightens and turns towards the cockpit. “Buckle yourself in, we’ll be landing soon.”
You stand to follow, reeling from the anticipation you felt in that moment. You take purposeful deep breaths to calm your heart. As you let your guard down, Cal turns back slowly, closing the distance between your bodies.
You immediately look up into his face, watching as he reaches towards you. His right hand strokes your hair starting at the top of your head, unhurried. He lets his fingers follow the strands downwards, tracing lightly across your ear.
He moves further brushing your collarbone, your body tingles. He adjusts his position slightly so that some of his fingers trace your skin as he moves downwards. His thumb stroking the swell of your breast as he nears the end. Your low cut shirt benefiting you at this moment, the old memories almost forgotten.
Once he reaches the end of your hair, he pulls his hand away. Watching for your reaction. All you can do is glance at his lips in response, you’re becoming needy and he knows it. He doesn’t move, more interested in hearing the desire in your head, than satisfying it.
“Cal,” escapes your lips, barely audible. His eyebrows raise more than normal. He seems genuinely surprised that he got you to speak without being prompted. Then quickly settles his face back into the expression that you love. He reaches his right hand back out to brush the hair off your left shoulder.
“Very good.” Cal praises you for using your words, even if it was only one nearly silent word. He leans down, passing your face, instead leaning towards your now exposed neck. He takes his time, finding the exact spot on your collarbone that he wants. Right where the bone dips lower under the skin. His hot breath feels like it’s setting you on fire. The anticipation is thrilling.
Then he touches his soft lips to your skin, dragging his slightly parted mouth closed as he places the kiss with intention. You feel nothing but pleasure course through your brain at this sensation. Closing your eyes and letting out a breathy whine to ask for more. He completes his movements and pulls away slowly. As he stands back to his full height, you feel his eyes watching you from the moment that he has a line of sight. He looks at you in such a seductive manner, making your pulse quicken. You wish he would give you more.
“Prepare yourself, it’s time to land.” Cal says, turning away and sitting in the pilot’s chair. You follow suit, barely functioning, but following his orders.
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