This Man

As he reaches the very top of my dress, he grasps the zip and places his hand on my hip. I jerk. It’s my ultimate tickle spot and any friction on my hip bone, or the hollow above it, sends me through the roof. Squeezing my eyes shut, I use every ounce of willpower I possess to disregard the contact. It’s hard, but the sheer size of his hand splayed across my hip grounds me, keeping me immobile.

The zip of my dress slowly lowers and I hear him gasp at the exposure of my bare skin. He removes his hand from my hip, and I’m stunned when I miss the heat immediately. But then I feel both hands slide under the material of my dress and rest on my bare shoulders. His fingers flex as he pushes my dress away from my front before slowly dragging it down my body, letting it fall to the floor.

His breath catches, and I thank everything holy that I put on decent underwear. I’m stood in my bra, knickers and heels, and at the complete mercy of the Adonis looming behind me. What the hell am I doing?

‘Hmmm, lace.’ he whispers. My waist is griped and I’m lifted out of the pooling dress before being turned to face him. In these heels, my eyes are level with his chin and with a little flick upwards, I’m focused on his full, beautiful lips and wishing he would lay them on mine. I’m swiftly losing my self-control and my conscience has long left the building. I’m wanton, and with this man, easy.

He lifts a hand to my breast and circles my nipple through my bra with his thumb, his gaze focused on his movements. My nipples tingle at the contact, lengthening behind the material of my bra. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips. He knows the affect he’s having on me. He introduces his index finger and tweaks the stiff nub, causing my breasts to throb, becoming heavy, aching mounds. I’m completely rapt by this man studying me so closely, working me up into a shaking, desperate mess. I still can’t believe I’m doing this, but damn, can I stop it?

I watch as he brings his other hand up to palm my other breast. I can no longer keep my hands off of him. My arms lift and my palms settle on his chest. The warmness and firmness hitches my breath. I start to trail my finger down the void between his pecs, smiling to myself when I feel him flinch under my touch and groan low in his throat. Before I can make the most of the access to his body, he turns me back around, and I want to cry inside.

‘I want to see you.’ I breathe.

‘Shhhh.’ He hushes me, unclasping my bra and running his hands under the straps.

He lowers them down my arms, letting it drop to the floor, before his hands find my breasts and knead deliberately. He continues to breathe hot, heavy breaths in my ear.

‘You.and.me.’ he growls and spins me around, crashing his lips against mine, robbing me of breath.

I’m back to where I want to be. His tongue skims my bottom lip, seeking entry, and I don’t deny him. I accept him into my mouth, our tongues dueling, his mouth hot, his tongue lax but severe. I fling my arms over his shoulders to pull him closer as he presses his groin into my lower stomach. His erection is as hard as steel and bidding for escape from the confines of the denim encasing it. Every part of him feels perfect. It’s everything I imagined.

A low moan escapes his mouth as both of his hands drift up my back to cup my head, his fingers splayed around the back, the heel of his palms resting on my cheek bones. He breaks the kiss and I whimper at the loss. His shoulders are rising and falling with the deep breaths he’s struggling to get into his lungs, and he rests his forehead against mine with his eyes clenched shut. He looks in pain.

‘I’m going to get lost in you.’ he breathes, his hand traveling back down the curve of my spine to the rear of my thigh. With one gentle tug, he pulls my leg up to rest against his hip, cupping my bum with his other. He searches my eyes desperately. ‘There’s something here,’ he whispers. ‘I’m not imagining it.’

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