When A Man Gazes Into Your Eyes Mga Nobela at Kwento

Rubbing another towel from his hair, he threw it in a room somewhere. His eyes looked straight into my eyes with his intense gaze, not breaking eye contact. His eyes contain lust and desire in them. For a good minute he didn't move, making me nervous with his not-so pleasant intense stare. When I wasn't able to keep up with it, I slowly moved back to the headboard and he smirked.

It's a hopeless hope but still better than losing every damn hope. I moved my eyes to gaze at the man who apparently has been looking at me for quite a while.He is tall with healthy tan skin, jet black eyes and a small face.He smiled right when our eyes locked for a second and I don't know why he smiled when my face is literally void of any emotion.I shift my gaze at Lucian who was staring at the same man with dark eyes.

I shifted my gaze to the man now standing centimetres before me. The moment I met his penetrative eyes, he stepped back, his brows pinching together in confusion. He tore his wavering gaze from mine and stared at space as he summoned back the guts to look at me in the eyes again. Creasing my brows as I found his actions ridiculous, he tried to meet my waiting gaze again, as if fighting against invisible waves that deterred him from doing it but in the end, his eyes beat him to the floor.

He stared into my gaze without kissing me. I loved to be touched like that, touched by a man who knew what he was doing. He examined my face like he was searching for something, something he could spot deep in my green eyes. His blue gaze burned into mine as he stared me down like an aggressive bear, an animal that was about to rip me apart. “Never take that long to call me again.” “I said I wasn’t going to call you.”

He looked up and saw me but then he smiled. “You made it,” he breathed, hips still thrusting, fucking into the thing like he wanted to put on a show. “Fuck. Look at you. You always look at me like that, y'know. Like you might eat me alive.” My throat was dry. He kept going. Fucking into it, slow now, deliberate. Like he liked being watched. Like the idea of me standing there, seeing him like this, did something to him. Made him louder. Needier. “Am I good for you like this, Aiden?” he moaned, hips picking up speed again. “Tell me. Do I look good for you?” My hands clenched at my sides. I felt like I was carved out of static.

If I'm honest with my feelings. He turned to fully face me now and the look in his eyes slashed at something deep within me. It was filled with the demand that I listen and be open. Looking directly at his eyes was unsettling, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to look away. I never looked directly into anyone's eyes. When I couldn't avoid it, I would look at the bridge of their nose, or their forehead... but Mav's intense gaze wouldn't release me. He brought his free hand up and cupped the side of my face, I couldn't resist leaning into his touch. The scent. The warmth. The pull. I basked in it, with as much vigor as a ravenous person would.

I whispered. "What?" I finally spoke. "Well!! Can you keep your hands up to yourself?" I asked while facing him. "I don't know. They always find their way themselves." He laughed. "Has anybody ever told you?" I asked him. "What?" He came back to his serious self. I leaned forward. When my eyes met his gaze as we were staring at each other. I see how they always keep searching. Like how he keeps glimpsing at people and gaping at what they see when they look back at him.

His eyes never left mine, holding my gaze with an intensity that made my heart beat just a little bit faster. "I need your advice on something," his expression was grave. His face was cold as if he was about to discuss a matter of life and death. "What is it?" I whispered. "A friend of mine needs advice," his eyes locked onto mine as he studied my features. I felt a flutter in my chest under his intense gaze. "Oh, okay," I replied, my voice neutral, as he paused, seemingly expecting me to ask something or show more interest. The silence that followed was awkward, with Axel's eyes still fixed on me, waiting for me to prompt him to continue.

Not only were their bodies briefly brushing against each other, but the distance between their faces was so close they could feel each other's breath. Although it wasn't the first time those dark eyes had locked with her brown ones, gazing at her from so close never failed to spellbind the expressionless young man. A shade of brown that reminded him of soft evening light, coupled with a beautiful sparkle in her gaze that never seemed to fade. Has he ever seen anyone's eyes so captivating? No. Nor did he feel he could ever grow tired of staring into the bright, intense gaze looking back at him. A breathtaking, beautiful gaze.

But his life will be better without this false hope he’s feeding people. “But how many years have you been here?” I asked, and sat down again. He looked straight into my eyes and smiled at me. I kept my resting bitch face—I felt uncomfortable under his gaze—so I took out my contact lens and threw it away; I still have some at home. I looked at him again, and he looked shocked when I stared back at him with the same intensity he’d just shown while looking into my eyes. He left his mouth slightly open, and he finally regained his composure—why does it feel different when those gray eyes lock onto yours?