"Did you like it?" His hands curl around my hips. A soft pressure. Just enough to say I've got you.
"Dinner?"
He nods.
"It was perfect."
"I've earned another chance?"
My tongue slides over my lips. He's not asking about our next dinner. He's asking about this. Right now. Him… I don't know what he's going to do. Only that I want it. "Yes."
"Good." He traces the line of my body, over my hip, my waist, my shoulder. My jawline. It's soft. Gentle. Precise. "I want to know what you like."
I nod.
"Everything you like." His hand cups the back of my head. His eyes flutter closed. He pulls me into a slow, steady kiss.
His lips against my lips.
The taste of gin and lime.
A tiny brush.
Then more. His hand knots in my hair. My legs spread. My pelvis shifts. Closer. But not close enough.
Nothing is close enough.
My hand curls around the back of his neck.
His tongue slips into my mouth. He explores my mouth with steady, patient movements. He pulls me closer. Closer.
Until I can feel him hard under me.
It's not the first time. I had boyfriends in high school. But this is different. Better.
So much better.
I rock my hips an inch. Just enough to feel his erection. That sensation of hardness and warmth between my legs.
It's good.
So fucking good.
I'm a writer. I should be more articulate. But I'm not in touch with fancy words. Only primal ones.
Yes. Now. More. Please.
He tugs at my hair. The sharp pull makes my sex clench. Yes. Now. More. A groan falls off my lips.
He places a kiss on my jaw. Then a line down my neck. Soft pressure. Then harder. Harder. Hard enough I yelp.
Ian releases me. He looks me up and down, settling on my chest. "I want to see you, vixen."
I don't need extra detail. Only the hunger in his eyes. I nod. Push my right strap off my shoulder. Then the left.
They fall down my arms, but my dress stays in place.
It's tight. Corset lacing. Tight enough I don't need a bra.
He brings his hands to the fabric. Peels it down my chest a quarter inch at a time.
My breath catches in my throat.
My fingers curl into my skirt.
My thighs shake.
This is a secluded balcony, but it's still a public place. I'm still exposed. To him. The server. Anyone who walks by.
Why is that so enticing?
He pulls my dress lower. Low enough my breasts spill from the fabric.
My sex clenches. The exhibition is thrilling. And the look in his eyes—like I'm the best thing he's ever seen—
Fuck. I need this. Him. Everything.
"Beautiful." He cups my breasts with his hands. A soft pressure. Then it's his thumb against my nipple.
A groan falls off my lips.
"Like this?" He drags his thumbs over my nipples again. Softly. Then a little harder. A little harder.
"Mmm."
"Harder?" He increases the pressure again and again. Until it's more rough than tender. Until it's all rough.
"The middle."
There. Less pressure. Then a little more. Just right.
He watches me with rapt attention as he draws circles.
Zigzags.
Figure eights.
"Fuck." My head falls to the side. My hair goes with it.
Long strands cover my eyes. Blur my surroundings.
His lips find my neck.
He kisses me as he toys with me. Perfect circles again and again. Winding the tension inside me tighter and tighter.
It feels too good. He feels too good.
Then his lips dip lower. The crook of my neck. My shoulder. My collarbone.
My chest.
He slips his hands under my dress. His fingers brush my thighs. Then his hands are on my ass.
Only a thin layer of cotton between his hands and my skin.
God, he's so close to where he needs to be. To where I need him.
How can I already need him so badly? It's wrong. And I don't give a fuck about being right.
He pulls me up onto my knees, bringing my chest to his mouth.
Then his lips are around my nipple. Soft pressure.
Harder.
The flick of his tongue.
That same circle, only so much wetter and warmer. Again and again.
Until I'm digging my nails into his neck. "Ian."
He responds with the soft scrape of his teeth.
Fuck. It sends a wave of pleasure through my body. Then he does it again. Again. Each scrape sends a shock wave through me.
To my fingers.
My toes.
My core.
He winds me tighter and tighter. When I'm sure I can't take more, he moves to my other breast. Tortures it just as mercilessly.
His hands find the waistband of my panties.
He slides them over my hips. Down my thighs. All the way to my knees.
The fabric binds my legs. Keeps me in place.
He holds my legs with a tight grip. But he doesn't touch me properly. He just toys with my breasts as he digs his fingers into my thighs.
"Please." I'm ready to beg. Plead. Whatever it takes for him to touch me properly.
I'm not sure where the sane Eve is. Maybe the gin chased her away. Maybe the money. Maybe something about Ian.
But I don't care. I need this. Need him filling my desires.
Need to fill his desires.
"Not yet." He drags his hands an inch up my thighs. Moves to my other breast. Toys mercilessly.
"Mmm." My groans run together. Half agony. Half ecstasy.
I've never wanted this much. I've never felt this empty. I've never felt so desperate to be full.
I want it so much it hurts.
But a good hurt. The kind that makes me feel alive.
This is what it means to be alive. The freedom to want something more than food, sleep, shelter.
To want with my entire being.
"Please." My voice slips to a whine. It's a tone I've never heard before. A vulnerability that terrifies me.
And thrills me.
"Please, Ian." My nails curl into his skin. "Please."
"Please what, vixen?"
The pet name nearly pushes me over the edge. God, the way it sounds on his lips…
"Make me come." The words fall without a hint of friction. Inhibitions? What inhibitions? "Please. I need you."
He groans into my chest.
Something in his posture changes. More hungry and primal.
He drags his hands up my thighs. Closer, closer, closer.
His thumb brushes my clit. A slow circle. Then another. In that same steady rhythm.
He winds me tighter and tighter. Until I'm sure I might burst. Then tighter still.
With the next brush of his thumb, the dam breaks.
I go over the edge, groaning his name as I come.
Bliss spills through my senses. Turns the entire world into a place of pure pleasure.
Nothing but the pulsing in my sex.
More intense than anything I've ever felt.
Then I blink my eyes open and see him watching. And it's intense in a whole new way.
I need the wonder in his eyes. The desire. The fascination. The need.
He brings his hands to my knees. Tugs at my panties. "Stand up, vixen. I'm keeping these."
My cheeks flush. It's strange, feeling shy after that, but I do. "Help me."
He nods. Brings his hands to my hips. Helps me onto my feet.