The Bodyguard's Baby ✔

Ch: 4 ☀️

Mew's POV

It wasn't until tonight that I realized how hard it would be to watch Gulf flirt with someone else. I hadn't expected to feel this way, or for him to flirt so blatantly so soon after my rejection.

Maybe that was exactly what he wanted, though. The looks he threw at me sure seemed to show it was. If he had been trying to gauge my reaction, though, he wouldn't have gotten much. I had always been good at keeping my emotions off my face, and this was no exception.

I couldn't let him know what kind of effect he had on me.

Perhaps it wasn't about making me jealous at all. Maybe he was finally moving on and finding someone who his father would approve of and who could give him the attention that he so desired. That just made me feel worse.

I wanted to congratulate him on selling his art piece, to ask him what he felt for Mark, what he had thought of the art show that night. I wanted to ask him anything, but I couldn't. If I spoke to him, I didn't know what words would come out of my traitorous mouth.

Instead, I headed to my bedroom, determined to get these thoughts out of my head. It was difficult.

When I couldn't find the strength within myself to push such things from my mind, I began to imagine Gulf instead. What would he say if I went out there right now and kissed him? He would probably smile. He would say that he told me so and kiss me again.

God, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to pull that small body of his up against mine. I wanted to tell him how beautiful he was and then bite his neck and listen to his squeal.

I knew it was wrong of me to have such thoughts, I really did. Those thoughts would get me in trouble, and that was something that I couldn't have, I couldn't help them, though. I couldn't help but desire him. He was so beautiful. He was the most beautiful being I had ever seen, and he was so tempting.

He knew how to press all of my buttons, and it would be the death of me.

That was how I ended up going to sleep thinking of him, which led me to dreams of him. In my dreams, there was no space between us. Nothing kept us from being together. Perhaps his father finally approved, or our responsibilities didn't exist in this dream world. Whatever it was, I knew I was happy that I could finally be with him.

In the dream, I brushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed his lips with tenderness. I caressed his cheek and told him he was the loveliest vision I had ever laid eyes on. The dream version of him shimmered, as if he was a mirage, and asked me why I hadn't told him this before.

I didn't know. I must have said that in the dream because he laughed and pulled me closer to him, placing my hands where he wanted them, guiding me to pleasure him in all the right spots, all the right ways.

I wanted him so badly. I wanted him so much that I woke up panting and hard. I groaned, one hand drifting down to where my dick stood up, announcing my desires to the world.

Why did it have to be this way? I wished I could go into his room and make him undo what he had caused, either have him satisfy this desire or remove his spell from me entirely. Sometimes it really felt like he must have cast some enchantment on me. He was a sorcerer, and I was the peasant he had laid eyes on. Maybe I was the knight in this scenario. Most likely, he would say I was the knight. That was the image that he would love to paint, something full of longing and desire and heartbreak and magic.

I felt that he was full of all those things, too.

His paintings were made of all those things his soul was made of, and it was the reason I thought he was incredibly talented.

(714 words)