Angle for a Devil (Closed)

Snickering, he slid her jeans down before pushing her back into the bed. "What pajamas did you want to wear?"

"That's it?" He asked, slowly pulling the buttons from their place.

Humming with a smile, he pulled her shirt off of her. He was forcing himself not to flush, looking down at her body. "Does that come off?" He asked, pointing to her chest.

"I don't care." He shrugged, smiling down at her.

"So? Does it come off?" He asked softly, running his hand up her hips.

"I only want what you want princess." He hummed, giving her a sweet smile. "Whatever is most comfortable."

"Then do you want it off?" He asked, really not caring either way.

Sliding his hands up her back, his fingers traced over the bra strap. "You seem not so sure."

Surprised at this, he fumbled and fell on top of her. He swore, if he had hurt her, he would probably kill himself.

When she didn't react to his fall, he assumed she was alright. So he leaned in more to her lips.

Pulling back slightly, he leaned into her hand. "I love you…" He mumbled under his breath.

"What did you do that for, though?" He questioned, tracing her hips slightly.

"O-oh," He said softly, pulling at the strap on her bra. He unclipped it, feeling something turn in his chest.

Sliding the straps down, he kept his gaze on her face. "Where did you say the sweatshirt was?"

Pulling back from her, he gathered her stray clothes, and folded them up. Once gathered, he tucked them into the dresser carefully, and pulled out the grey sweat shirt.