Companion To Paris
If I'm serious

"Nothing happened to us Paris." Biema explained firmly.

"I don't know what else to ask you. We sleep in one bed, Biema. You and me! Us!" Paris said that emotionally. Beyond the suspicion of the word 'we' that Biema heard was pleasant. Biema's lips involuntarily smiled hearing him. Paris is angry at the moment. "You're smiling. You're teasing me?" ask Paris disappointed.

"No way."

"No. You've already done that. Stop joking with me, Biema," Paris said with sharp, unfriendly eyes. Biema breathed. He put down his phone and began to seriously respond to Parisian prejudice.

"Do you like to joke?" ask Biema.

"For something else I might like to be joked around, but now. That's not something Biema's worth talking about jokingly." Paris says it with a face that wants to be understood. "I told you that we should sleep apart. But what? What did I see this morning?" Paris seemed to be in disbelief about the position she had found this morning.

"What did you see this morning?"

"Don't ask me. You know for yourself what position we're both in." Paris breathed in annoyance.

"I'm not the one who likes to joke about this Paris. I'm not a person who likes to play games." Biema started to stand up.

"Then answer honestly Biema. What happened to us last night?" ask Paris. "I don't like it when you answer my questions playfully."

"I told you there was nothing between us last night." Biema's feet approaching Paris. "You think I like to play?" Paris was silent while looking the other way. "You should have been more scared when I turned serious, Paris."

"You mean?" Two eyebrows linked Paris stated that he did not understand what Biema said.

Suddenly Biema who was already standing very close, grabbed the body of Paris. Because it was so sudden and unexpected, Paris could no longer avoid it. Especially when the strong arm reached his body until it was docked and there was no longer any distance between the two of them. The girl can't snort. Parisian eyeballs widened in surprise.

"B-biem." The sound of Paris shakes. So too with his body. The towel in his hand fell off.

"If I'm serious, I'm going to embrace your body without needing this kind of distance between us." Biema's eyeballs stared at Paris's lips wistfully. Then the man's finger began to sweep away Paris' trembling lips slowly. Paris could only bite her lips and see Biema staring at her lips intensely.

"I will********your red lips are greedy. Dunk my lips, then tap my tongue to force you to open your mouth. Twist the tongue with satisfaction." Biema's hand on Paris's back was also getting tighter hugging. This makes Paris' body even more vibrating.

"I will not let this unspoiled holy body just fall into a deep sleep. I'll fuck her. Inches per inch of your body with my lips." Biema's eyeballs started to fog. This man was all his might to resist his desires.

"I will satisfy my passion for you, Paris. I'm sure I'd do that if it was serious. You're my girl. My wife's. I deserve that." The eyeballs of Paris. Biema is like being another person. Wild and savage. Paris's body trembled and also limp from hearing one word at a time Biema said.

"B-biem ..." look at Paris again.

But suddenly Biema hugged the body of Paris tightly. This man did that gently. "But I can't do that to you. You're not ready for Paris. Your heart is not for me. I have to hold back from doing nothing to you. You haven't given yourself completely to me yet" Biema said in her ear.

Paris stunned.

Biema must have heard Paris's beating heart fast and hard. This silence definitely makes all that clear. Biema releases a hug. But his hand did not release the grip on both arms of Paris.

"You should know. I tried to respond to you playfully instead of trying to play you. I'm holding Paris back. Not from anyone, but from the wild nature I have." Paris was just silent looking at the man in front of her.

Biema ducked down and picked up the towel that fell to the floor.

"We'd better get down. Downstairs must be everybody asking where we both are." Biema put the towel in place. Paris is still stunned. "Look at you sleeping on the floor I can't bear. So I purposely carried you to be moved to bed. But I didn't expect that you would pull my body away from me."

"Yes. You hugged me like a bolster. I can't do anything." Biema showed her ignorant face again.

"You must be ..." Paris continued his words. He must not be serious. He must be teasing me right now. Ignore.

"Not Paris. I'm not fucking you. That was the real thing last night. That's why our positions were close to each other this morning." Biema smiled as if she knew what was on this girl's mind. Paris eyeballs buy. "You look wild too." A moment later, a red hue spread across the surface of his face to his ears and neck.

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They both came out of the room and welcomed Biema's extended family who gathered in the living room.

"Wow, newlyweds. It's just getting up."

"It's nothing dong."

"Hey ... Biema still can't say anything about Paris. He still has to finish school."

"Eh, right. Poor dong Biema. Ahhaha ..." Biema just smiled in response to the pressure of her family. He did not bother his brothers too much. But Paris who was walking beside him looked down embarrassed.

"They're pranksters. Don't listen too much" Biema entertained Paris. Paris' lips smiled awkwardly.

"Paris to the back. Mama is waiting for you" said Ms. De.

"What's wrong, Miss De?" ask Biema.

"What's up? It's morning. Your mama's gonna take her daughter-in-law to cook ...." Mrs De smiled.

Cook it? The head of Paris immediately turned his head quickly towards Biema. This man also knew that Paris could not cook. The girl confessed to that.

"Good Ma'am De. I'm going to Paris' kitchen." Biema coded Paris to follow suit.

After moving away from the Biema family, Paris asked anxiously, "How is this, Biem?"

"Just calm. I'll keep you company." Biema calms this girl.

"But .. there's no way you'll keep me company when I'm told to cook."

"Why?"

"Sir Asha only when asked to accompany Mother to cook, never be accompanied by brother Arga. Though he knew that Brother Asha could not cook."

"That's Arga, not me." Paris who looked down in anxiety now looked up. Looking at Biema who was looking at him. "I don't have to be Arga, do I?" Paris's eyeballs blinked. "Just calm. I'll accompany you, Paris. You can trust me." Biema assured that Paris needed to believe her.

"I believe" said Paris slowly. Biema heard that. Lips smile. Then they both went to the kitchen.