Ambrose
What a proper, old-fashioned name for a man who had seemed like the very sort of traditional, tightly-wound asshole I had always avoided.
For a moment we stared at each other, and I felt something crackle between us, an energy that was so intense I couldn’t breathe for a moment. And then a few papers from his briefcase began to scatter on the wind, and I immediately dropped on my hands and knees to pick them up.
They were clasped to my bosom when I looked up and he was staring down at me, his eyes so full of naked lust that I couldn’t move away.
I hadn’t meant to be on my hands and knees in front of him in such a wanton pose, but I stood up and held out the stack of papers to him, waiting to see what he would do.
He took the papers, stacked them neatly on top of the nearby rock, then bent down and kissed me.
And at first it was going to be a pity fuck for me, like just a primal expression of glee and thankfulness at what he had done out there, but then his lips fell on mine, and it was nothing like I had expected, all that starched stiffness unraveling outward as his hands gripped the back of my head, his lips devouring me with some fuckingdirty nasty energyI didn’t know he had in him, and my heart began to pound.
He pulled me behind the rock so we were hidden from everyone at the park, pressing me up against the hard surface as he kissed me so thoroughly that I felt like I was melting, blazing sticky heat all over me but I didn’t care as I put my hands on his taut back, feeling the lines of lean muscle through his sleek shirt.
His tongue didn’t tease at my entrance so much as demand with entrance, and I opened my mouth with a gasp, feeling my nipples tauten under my shirt, rub against his hard belly.
He broke off with a gasp.
“Madam—I apologize,” he said in a raw voice, looking agonized, the muscles in his jaw moving.
He ripped his glasses off and stuffed them in his pocket, but he didn’t move his body from where his long thighs were pressed against me, his chest heaving, his other arm only inches from me.
“I am—usually more gentlemanly. I am—having a very difficult time controlling myself. You are—driving me mad, madam. This has never happened before, I assure you.”
The idea that he was coming apart, that this stiff and proper man could have that wild look in his ice-blue eyes, one arm curving around me, the other tearing at his tie, was intoxicating to me. What would it be like to see all the tightly-wound parts of him unravel?
So instead I gripped him by the front of his lapels and he fell on me with a groan.
I was absolutely dripping wet, my back stretched tight as I arched my pussy against the thick bulge grinding into me, and he fumbled at my long skirts like he couldn’t wait another second.
“Bloody hell, woman, you’re like a godsdamn Fabergé egg, like a luxury for an emperor,” he groaned in my ear, and I wanted to scream with laughter at this insane description of myself, since I was a massage therapy student who had no money and 4 roommates, but I was too horny.
I didn’t plan on coming, not on the backside of this rock, with a busy road only a few dozen feet away through the trees.
But something about how this man fucked me meant my body was on fire, wanting more of him, wanting to see how he’d come undone.
He sunk his hands in my hair and pulled, and I didn’t even know if he was doing it on purpose, the way he was fucking me like some feral, possessed animal, one hand digging into my ass,the other wrapped around the back of my throat so he could devour me with his lips.
His cock was long and thick, with a slight bend at the end that hit me just fucking right, and suddenly I was literally goddamn squirting, coming with a huge gush and soaking my thighs and the entire front of his fancy pants, but I didn’t care, riding him with fevered, frenetic energy, clutching him tighter with my thighs, wanting him and his strange combination of propriety and untamed passion.
He smelled like fucking old money and a dirty raw desire, and I fell for him then, dragged under the wave of that strange, wild combination that was Professor Ambrose Hargreaves and I couldn’t wait to explore more.
Present day
I thought it was an epic love, but he probably had just wanted to have sex with me.
That’s all we ever were, I thought dismissively, as I put the memory firmly away and hurried outside.
My belly was really beginning to stick out now, Finn & I’s baby kicking out and fluttering like a butterfly as I waddled out the door to see my ex-husband and my baby daddy wrestling in the middle of the lawn.
Finn appeared to have several pieces of paper in his hand and he was holding his arm out to stop Ambrose from grabbing them.
“O Indi, your eyes are like a bluebird’s wing,” Finn called out in a high falsetto. “O Indi, your skin is like a creamy bath of marble sculpturing. Who the fuck is taking a bath in marble sculpturing, you dipshit?”
“What is going on?” I cried out as my ex twisted Finn’s wrist.
My baby daddy was built like the back end of a refrigerator, but at this he was forced to drop the papers on the ground.
