attention (miguel o'hara)

She’s pissed.

Miguel’s scarlet eyes watched like a hawk, a small figure storming around in the kitchen, clashing pots and pans against the oven. The figure spun around on her heels, knocking hip-first into the corner.

A hushed curse escaped red-bitten lips as small calloused hands slammed down on the marble countertop, “I can’t find anything in this fucking kitchen,” a rough mumble followed.

If there’s one thing I know about my wife, it’s when she’s pissed. The question is… why?

The woman shook her head, running fingers through loose, unkempt curls as she walked towards the fridge. The oversized, periwinkle shirt stained to a tinted mountain gray shade. The white shorts matched the shirt’s color with the addition of holes in the pockets. Fuzzy hospital socks graced her feet. “Ah, whatever, if I can’t find it - I’ll make something different, I seriously don’t have the time.”

If there are three things I know she loves, it’s food, wine, and attention. Earl Grey is right up there too. She had that this morning, she had two meals today, and she just-

Miguel’s eyes widened as the woman took a deep swig of the strawberry Stella Rosa. The glass bottle collided with the marble; she waved bye to the bottle as she kneeled to fish for more pots.

Just finished a whole bottle. So, it’s…

Miguel slowly stood up from the white leather couch, walking towards the kitchen. The woman banged around the cabinet; her knees rested on the linoleum flooring. Miguel rested up against the counter, resting his head against his hand. His half-lidded scarlet eyes focused on how the shirt clutched down against her spine, the tiny space in her shorts that led down to the base of her spine, revealing a little knot.

His eyes continued to follow her thigh. A green vein appeared against her skin, ending at the bend of her knee. There was a small lighting scar on her calf. His eyes landed on her feet, pointed like a Barbie doll.

Attention.

“Fucking finally,” The woman stood up and banged her head against the top of the cabinet, “Goddamnit, it seems like everything in this house wants to kill me today,” She mumbled.

“Isabella,” His voice soft, blinking to bring his focus back to her. He took a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and mind to prevent the fangs and talons from appearing.

Isabella sighed and looked up with a slight grin, “Done staring at me,” She questioned, tossing the pot down on the counter. Her heels spun, but she remained facing Miguel.

She pushed her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down hard as she tried to level him with a soft brown-eyed glare. Miguel’s grip tightens around her wrist, not too pressure to cause pain, enough to bring her back to attention.

“You could keep staring at me from the couch; I need to make us dinner,” Isabella tried to tug away, but Miguel gently pulled her towards him. She followed on a glide as she stopped in front of him. She leaned against the counter, looking into his eyes with a huff and a soft, whatever.

A soft blush dusted her cheeks, Miguel’s eyes softened, and he opened his mouth, closing it quickly. Red mixed with brown, a soft burgundy. Miguel swallowed down an intrusive thought and sighed, “Not tonight Isabella,”

“What are you talking about? You need to eat, okay? You had a rough day, and you need to eat-” Isabella laughed loudly, throwing her head back as she tried to pull away again. They both stood upright, and Miguel yanked Isabella back into his chest. A soft thud filled the room as Isabella looked up at him, resting her chin on his hard chest. Her free hand rested against his hip as she stood at full attention. Perfect.

“We can eat something later, but I think you need something else,” a large hand brushed Isabella’s hair, pulling curls apart. She bit her lip softly as she leaned more into his hand, his gentle fingers curling behind her ear.

Her voice whispered, “And what else could I need,” Her body cuddled deeper into his body as he took his hand out of her hair, letting his hands rest down on her hips. Her tiny hips rolled against his pelvis; Miguel smirked back as he refocused his thoughts.

“That’s what I plan to find out,”

Or when you have a hard lump in your throat and can’t swallow it? That’s what she’s feeling. Something is blocking her.

“Mhm, fuck Miguel, that feels so good,” Isabella moaned into the space.

The room’s walls blush, and the space between the floorboards, like a vein, runs hot as another soft moan enters the space. Isabella’s curls rubbed against the black silk pillowcase, her hands above her head as her frontal lobe fogged with lust, like a windshield in a hot car.

Miguel kissed down her jawline, dragging one of his canines down a tiny vein pulsing against her neck. Her bare chest brushed against his, and the flow melted into her hips, but he pushed her hips into the sheets with his free hand. His wet tongue traced the tip back up the vein, and he kissed softly against the shell of her ear, “Behave baby girl,” the whisper caused her body to shutter, and a guttural sigh filled the air.

Butterfly kisses traced back down her neck, stopping against her bony collarbones. Miguel’s canine gently scratched against the caveat, goosebumps raised to her skin. A small chuckle escaped him as he bit into her collarbone, not too much pressure to cause pain.

“God, please harder,” Isabella begged, struggling to get her wrists out of his hold. His hand pushed her wrists closer together, causing a slight pop to enter their silent conversation.

Isabella bit down hard on her lip as she squirmed away from him. Miguel sat back against her hips, staring down at her sweat-glistened skin; cherry red blossoms of early hickeys filled her neck and collarbone, Fuck she’s so pretty. And she’s so mine.

His free hand wandered back up her body, resting on the middle of her stomach. Growling down at her, “There’s only one God you should be begging to,” He leaned over and whispered against her ear, “And that’s me,”

“Mhm, fuck sorry,” Isabella’s body seized up against his like a magnet, “Are you gonna bite into me using those or are they just for show?” Isabella mused drunkenly.

Miguel pulled away, eyes filled with concern as a little grin graced his face, “You sure about that one? Wouldn’t want to get carried away, and trust me,” His eyes rolled down the length of her body as he sat back up to his full height, “I, will, get carried away,”

Isabella bit her lip, swallowing, “Do your worst, I can handle it,” Her voice laced with reassurances. Her giggle brightened the mood as she tried to free her wrists from his grip again.

“You asked for it,” Miguel shook strands of hair out of his face, leaning back down into her collarbone and cleaning the area with his tongue before deeply biting her. Isabella hiccupped, a small scream leaving her throat followed by a soft laugh, “That’s what I need,”

Markings? No. That could be her adrenaline. Hm.

Miguel pulled his teeth away, watching droplets of blood fill the place of the holes. His free hand made its way up her body, cupping one of her breasts. He massaged the muscle, pressing hard into any knots and releasing tension.

He released her wrists and shook his hand before cupping the other breast. Isabella’s wrists relaxed into the pillows at each side of her head as she bit hard into her bottom lip, trying to keep her hips down. But her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt the warmth between her thighs and the pulsing hardness above her pelvis.

“Fuck, Miguel,” Isabella sighed, arching her back and running a hand through his hair, taking loose strands in a tight fist. With a slight tug, her husband’s eyes glanced up at her blissfully red face. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, humming a response.

Isabella tightened the fist, “I think I'm going to die,” Miguel chuckled against her breasts, swirling his tongue against her nipple, “like I'm going to explode.” Isabella rested her free wrist against her forehead, her head sinking into the pillow.

Perfect.

Miguel paused, letting the nipple slip from his mouth, leaning back into her fist. His chin rested in the valley of her breasts, hands sliding down to her waist.

“Babe, what's on your mind?” Miguel hushed. The tight grip loosened in his hair as she lolled her head. Her slightly parted lips curled into a smile, the lump in her throat sunk, and her chest gently waved as her body breathed in oxygen.

Miguel squared his shoulders and worked his way down between her thighs; his social arch bit red blossoms into her skin, canines tickled untouched skin, and soft pecks promised her damaged skin gentle aftercare.

Miguel’s eyes never left her face, his prize's face. Isabella bit her bottom lip, hands running down her sides as she held the sheets, “You're paying attention to me,” She hushed, clearing her throat, “Geez, you know I don't beg for attention. Not in my nature,” She gasped as her sweaty back glided against the silk. Sitting upright, she scanned around the room. The thermostat with a blue screen read 60 degrees F.

She giggled as she checked between her thighs to see soft reds watching her movements. A hand tucked behind her head as she shies her blushing cheeks away, taking a moment to push away from the edge. Her free hand rested between her thighs, and goosebumps tickled her skin as she moistened her fingers.

I had a feeling - she's always been like this. How could I have missed this?

“Work's been busy,” Isabella answered his question, her hand scratching her neck, “You're out late and when you’re working, I’m here. And vice versa, so we never see each other,” Isabella whined, “This is embarrassing,”

“Asking for something you need,” Miguel questioned, moving his hands from her hips to her inner thighs. Isabella bites her lip hard, grinding down into the mattress.

Isabella nodded. Miguel hummed, “Izzy, when we got married - what was the first thing I said to you?”

“Welcome to hell,” Isabella joked. Miguel glared, pressing his thumbs into her inner thigh hard, making Isabella keen.

“... The other thing,” Miguel growled, rolling his eyes away from her, “about our communication style as a couple,”

Isabella rested on the mattress, her back arched in euphoria, “Fuck, keep growling like that and I'll keep giving wrong answers,”

Miguel pulled her thighs apart, revealing his actual prize. Isabella shivered as cold air blew against her slit; she threw her arms over her eyes and squirmed.

Perfect.

“Isabella, you haven't answered me yet,” Miguel reminded her gently, scratching down towards her pussy. He gripped her inner hipbones, making Isabella ball up the sheets and curl her toes.

She sighed, “You're complexed - I can't always read you, nothing wrong with telling you what I need,” Isabella dropped the arm from over her eyes, gaze lost in the ceiling, “Something like that,” Her voice a whisper as she caressed one of her breasts, relaxing her body against the sheets. The heat in her body washed down into her pelvis, making the ceiling spin above her.

Miguel squeezes her in the spaces of her inner thighs. Her back arched to attention.

“Good girl,” He hummed, massaging the spaces.

“I'm gonna flick the shit out of your forehead when we're done,” The words rushed out, causing Isabella to bite her bottom lip and bang her head down on the mattress with closed eyes.

Well, at least she's talking with me again. Now let's see…

Miguel grinned, leaning in and flicking his tongue over her clit. Isabella shot upright again, rolling her spine from top to bottom. Her hands ran through her curls as she bit down on her bottom lip, glaring down at her husband.

Miguel smirked up at her, “You threaten me first,” Gently, he brought her closer to the edge of the bed; he sat back on his calves and rested her legs over his shoulders. His eyes never left her face. Isabella relaxed her shoulders, supporting herself with her forearms pressed into the mattress.

Miguel rubbed down her legs, pressing into the knot by her lighting scar. The knot released, causing Isabella to fall back against the bed with a thud. Miguel shook his head and chuckled, “Tell me what you need, Isabella,”

Isabella giggled, her head spun, “Mhm, whatever you're thinking,”

Not quite.

“Come on Izzy,” Miguel pushed the pressure from the knot caressing underneath her. His other hand followed, massaging away the tension settled into her lower back and perky ass, “Tell me what you need,”

Isabella rolled her hips down into his hands, reaching above her head to grab a pillow. Her body involuntary flexed as the tension released itself, making the heat pooling in her pelvis hotter, “Ah, for you to eat me like you're starving,”

Almost.

“Come on baby girl, there's nothing else you want,” His hands dragged back under her, slotting themselves into the shadows of my inner thighs. Miguel tugged, and a soft pop entered the room, quivering Isabella’s pussy. Miguel grinned, glancing down at her, “Nothing at all?”

Isabella brought herself back up on shaky forearms as she met his stare; gentle, intense, caring, stern, and knowing. She let her chest rise and fall, body blushing hard as she preened under the attention. A sultry giggle escaped her lips as her eyes widened, revealing blown-out pupils - her eyes dark with lust and craving.

Miguel licked his lips and leaned towards her pussy, stopping short and smirking.

Isabella admitted, “I’ve missed you - us, I need you, please give me your undivided attention. Please,” She bit her bottom lip hard, and a light dot of blood appeared. Her tongue shot out and cleaned up the mess; her body hummed in satisfaction.

There it is.

“You have my full, undivided attention baby girl. I'm going to shower you until you're begging for air,” Miguel rubbed his thumbs into her skin, smiling, “I'll be sure to revive you,”

Isabella moaned to herself, “Thank you God,” She laid back into the mattress, covering her mouth with both hands.

Miguel shook his head and leaned into her quivering pussy. He licks his tongue up her slit, swirling his tongue around her clit; eyes entranced by her body’s twitching and resisting the urge to buck. He laid a soft kiss on her clit and pulled away, grinning down at her.

I'm sorry I've neglected you, Isabella; I love you beyond comprehension and haven't shown you that recently.

Tonight. That changes.

I'll make you my God, and I will worship every cell in your body and call it my true salvation.