ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

35: Inside

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT; CONSENSUAL.

And it's part of the story, please skip if you don't like it.

RITA

Contemporary.

Here and now. In his arms. When he holds me that close, that tight, it makes me feel like I have more than Mother Nature on my side.

I have him.

His features are relaxed. He looks peaceful in his sleep. I love waking up in his arms. I got used to waking up in his arms. It feels so natural. So normal. I feel like I belong in his arms. I'd like to stay in his arms a while longer.

But nature calls.

My bladder is pressing with the way he holds me against him — so virile and lurid. I nimbly try to slip away from his arms and manage it, hearing him groan behind me as I hurry into the bathroom.

Relief washes over me as I finally take my leak. He's been nice to me. Therefore, I spare his bathtub and use the toilet, as one should. Once I'm finished, I wipe myself clean and wash my hands.

Then I notice the torn-off tags from my clothes lying on top of the washing machine. My gaze drops to the lid, and I open it, seeing clean and dry clothes.

A smile tugs at my lips.

He bought me clothes, and he washed and dried them for me. He deserves a reward for such a kind gesture. Acting on a whim, I take one of the lingerie sets he washed for me — the one he picked out himself.

He must like white on me.

So I put it on. For him.

My hair is still a little disheveled from sleep, and I smooth it back into place by running my fingers through it. Then I wipe away the remnants of my lipstick, though enough remains to still accentuate my features.

Clad only in lace, I leave the bathroom and walk lightly toward the bed. He's sprawled across almost the entire mattress, leaving me no choice but to lie on top of him. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose, just to keep me close.

I bite my lip, crawl onto the bed, and straddle his hips. I lean forward, so close to his lips. My hair falls like a curtain as my lips gently brush against his.

I whisper, "Roman."

A single mention of his name is enough to grant me the privilege of gazing into those azure eyes, half-lidded and a darker shade of blue.

"Is this real? Or is this a wet dream after all the fuss about sucking my card dry instead of me at the mall?" he asks.

His hands caress my bare legs as sleep fades from his features and he takes in the sight of me, his lower lip caught between his teeth, looking so hot.

"It is real," I murmur.

I look down at him as he sits up until we're at eye level. I straighten as well, his hands settling on my thighs, feeling so large and warm.

"And I think it was a good investment, don't you think?" I ask with a seductive smile.

I arch my back, place my hands on his—twice the size of mine—and guide them up to my breasts, letting him feel the lace along with my softness.

"I guess it's the best investment I've ever made in my fucking life," he rasps.

His thumbs brush over the seams before he slides the lace aside, exposing my nipple. He repeats the same on the other side. The lace, now shifted out of place, pushes my breasts upward.