kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.
Celeste stretched out along his bed, her hips pressed down eagerly against one of his pillows as she clenched it between her legs. “You took too long, Jas.” she teased, her hips rising in the air for a moment before they came back down, a low moan passing her lips as she studied her brother through her lashes, her hands tugging at the sheets on his bed as her hips rose again.
Jasper narrowed his eyes, slipping his shirt off and walking towards her. “I took less than a minute to get up here.” He muttered, fingertip roaming along the small of her stomach. “Besides, if it weren’t for me you’d still be waiting here, finishing for yourself. Aren’t you glad I came up before you actually could?” He whispered, licking his lips slowly, drinking her in, eyes a concoction of wantonness and slight anger.
