His long arms reached out, pulling me inside by the fabric of my shirt. My back pressed against the door that he closed with my body. My clothes disappeared into thin air as he hoisted me up against the glass.
Instinctively, my legs brought him closer, wrapping around him simultaneously. His teeth sunk into the skin of my neck.My head fell backward, resting against the door behind me. Without warning, his manhood breached my waters, driving deeper out into my open sea where the waves were plentiful.
He managed well in the deep end, stroking me with rhythm and precision. My mouth slacked, giving him the perfect opportunity to dip his tongue inside. He explored my wetness. Up top and down below.
Just as my head began to spin and the waves began to crash up against my shore, threatening a tsunami, he ejected himself. My feet touched the ground as he ushered my body toward the entryway console. He placed my hands on top, sending the decorative items crashing to the floor. He deepened the arch in my back with his palm and planted himself inside me, again.
“Ummm–”
My hips rotated in the chair. My bottom lip slipped into my mouth. I pushed out a long stream of air, hoping to settle my spiking temperature. There was no use.
“Uh hm.”
The clearing of a throat forced my eyes open. I flinched, unable to comprehend the sight before me. Wine spilled from my glass onto my slip gown, soiling the top. I could feel the fabric cling to my hardened nipples. My cheeks flattened with shame.
A shirtless Fohr stood a mere feet away from me. The ache between my legs intensified, creating a mind-numbing throb that formed a heartbeat. The rigidness between his legs reminded me why I was rotating my hips in the chair with closed eyes and muffled moans.
He was blessed and abundantly so. The jersey knit his pajamas were mostly comprised of showcased every inch. The thickness was intimidating and inviting at once.
Stillness kept me rooted in the seat at the table, unable to move. His pensive gaze deemed me speechless. I was a deer caught in headlights.
Suddenly, the wine simply wasn’t enough to quench my thirst. I needed water.Gallons. And, I was unsure if that would truly be enough to satisfy my need for hydration.
Fohr vanished into thin air. Upon the realization, I regained my mobility. The chill of the air reminded me that my breasts were on full display.
As I sat the glass of wine on the table and attempted to lift my body from the chair, I was pinned back down. Fohr’s expansive hand was against my chest and the other was clenched around a warm towel that he used to clean the wine from my gown.
Each stroke of his hand was a stroke of my clit. He toyed with me, heightening my sensitivity, and rewarding me with constant gratification. I stifled a moan, closing my eyes simultaneously.
Please. I begged, internally.
I found the strength to lift my butt up from the chair, unable to withstand the closeness, the touches, and the warmth of his breath against my skin.
“Sit down, Kit,” he demanded.
His eyes were no longer on my areolas. They were back on me, daring me to move another inch in the opposite direction. Begging me to stay. Protesting against my attempt to flee.
Obliging, I lowered into the chair. Without another word, he continued the task at hand as if his life depended on it. Truthfully, it was my life that depended on it.
Where’s the monster?
I needed him to show his face and reveal his true colors. Because, the man before me was so far from it that I felt foolish for even comparing him to anything other than an angel. A gift from God, because that’s what he was. That’s who he was.
I was a good judge of character, but I’d prematurely judged a man I’d never met. It was proving to be a mistake I never wanted to make again.
When the stain was removed, Fohr dismissed himself. A few inches away, he retrieved the robe that had been resting on the back of the chair next to me. I accepted the extra layer of fabric.
But, still, I was unable to move. He’d made himself clear and I wasn’t to move until he relieved me. Or, at least, that’s what my body and brain agreed on.
He lifted the bottle of wine and poured the rest of its contents into my glass to join what was left inside of it. I watched carefully as he approached the bar area on the other side of the kitchen. He returned with a bottle of Hennessy and a glass.
Fohr pulled the chair next to me from underneath the table and sat it in front of me. He uncapped the liquor and poured himself a healthy shot. He sat the bottle next to the empty wine bottle and took the seat in front of me. His legs gapped, jailing mine between them automatically.
He sipped from the glass, slowly. Both hands surrounded it when it finally came down, nearing his manhood. My eyes fell involuntarily.
“Does my proximity scare you?”
His question beckoned for the attention of every fiber in my body. Undoubtedly, he had it. Had me. Had us. Without question. Without hesitation. Without regard. Without caution.
