I bit my lip, my pulse racing and the desire pooling hot between my legs; as I let my eyes feast on this gorgeous male that was as hot as sin.
I knew it deep within me, that what I was doing was stepping out of my comfort zone and that meant that I shouldn’t regret it once it happens.
His muscles rippled, abs flexing and coiling as he pulled his shirt off. My heart pounded as I let my eyes trace over his gorgeous body, feeling my pulse quicken and my body respond.
My nipples tingled as they hardened into little rocks on a mountain of sponge.
“Open your eyes and look at yourself through the mirror,” he growled.
For whatever reason, that deep, commanding voice of his touched something dark and hidden inside of me; and I stopped.
While slowly sliding his hand over my hips, teasing up my sides and making me tremble in anticipation, I blushed at my reflection in the mirror: my whole body glowing and growing hotter by the second as I thought of my lover.
I wanted him to teach me things, and show me things: every filthy, broken part of himself I wanted to see.
I didn’t care that we were just friends, or about any of that. All I knew is I wanted him. I wanted him to claim the parts of me I had long kept to myself.
I blushed again, my nipples hard under the polka dotted top I wore and my arousal quickly making my thighs slick.
I toyed with my lower lip; a man who was rough around the edges? Yes! and had a filthy mouth too? Sure!
A man who was not everything I wished for and I honestly couldn’t have cared less about that.
I wanted him. But more than that, I wanted to feel.
I shivered under that gaze, my face bright and my skin prickling into goosebumps under his intense eyes, seeing all of me.
My legs curled under me, and my hands moved to cover my face, but his hands caught them halfway to my face and he smiled.
I swallowed thickly meeting his gaze and melting under it.
His lips found my neck, and when he began to suck and bite and lick his way down to my collarbone, I gasped loudly: not able to breathe properly.
His hands found the hem of my top, and he slowly pushed it up over my breasts. I pulled it over my head and tossed it away, just as his hand slid behind me to unclasp my bra and pull it aside.
“These look good,” he purred daring not to touch my boobs, his fingers trailing down my hips and making me whimper.
“This skirt has got to go off too,” he said as he turned me to face him and went down to squat.
He revealed a set of panties he remembered me telling him about, “You clearly dress for comfort.” We both couldn’t help painting forced laughter.
My skirt fell to my feet in a pool and I blushed deeply, knowing how exposed I was to him; and knowing that he could see me like this especially with his face right in front of my well-shaven mound but the heat blooming between my legs took over, and I wasn’t embarrassed anymore.
I was on fire. He came up and slowly, my gaze locked on his, his eyes told me he wanted to kiss me and that is exactly what he did.
I followed his lead and lifted one of my legs to his side, my skin tingling and my core tightening with raw heat and desire as I slowly gave in: all of me, to him.
No one had ever seen me like this. Not even close. And I knew this was wrong. I knew I should have run screaming from the room. But there was no way that was happening.
Not with the way he was looking at me like he wanted to devour me. Not with how damn hot I was feeling, and how much I wanted this.
I wanted him to see me like this — to see how wet he’d made me.