The Stranger

Chapter 5 - Cassandra

I was drenched, throbbing with need as his hands slid up my thighs, slipping under my skirt. My whole body leaned into his touch, aching for him to reach the spot where I was soaked and desperate. Just when I thought he'd finally touch me, his hand stopped. He barely brushed me through my panties before pulling away, leaving me teetering on the edge. Mr. Asshole good-looking dimples, teasing me right when I could hardly stand it. I could've punched him. But with my hands bound, I could only let the frustration build and hope he'd touch me again.

I felt his presence shift as he moved a few steps away. I could imagine him watching me, planning exactly what he'd do next. Without my sight, every sound sharpened, every breath amplified. My chest rose and fell, betraying how desperate I was for him to come closer, to close the maddening space he'd left. "Please, Sir, just touch me." The words begged to leave my lips, but he hadn't given permission.

Just then, he stepped forward, his body radiating heat. I knew he was right behind me. A chill rushed over my skin as his breath brushed my neck, his scent filling my senses. Every inch of me was attuned to him. I could barely breathe, feeling his face inches from mine. He was so close... I was ready for his kiss, lips parted in anticipation.

Then he stopped. He hovered just shy of touching my lips before his breath slid past me, down to my ear. A shiver coursed through me, the tease stoking my need.

"I'm going to undress you slowly, and then I'm going to touch you in places I'll kiss next," he whispered. The words struck like a spark, heating me from the inside out. I wanted it. I wanted every inch of him.

He reached around to my back, fingers deftly undoing the zip of my skirt. It slipped down my legs, pooling around my ankles. Then, firm but gentle, he rested one hand on my lower back and the other cradled the back of my neck, tangling in my hair. With a tug, he pulled my head back, exposing my neck. I gasped as his lips met my skin—gentle, possessive kisses that left trails of heat everywhere he touched. The way he tasted me, unrushed but with unmistakable hunger, made me weak. His hands roamed, and when his thumb dipped beneath the lace on my hip, his other hand took my throat in a way that was both commanding and soft. My pulse raced under his grip, but I trusted him completely. I was his, and he knew it.

His hands shifted to the buttons on my blouse, undoing each one with torturous slowness. My heart thudded as he slipped the fabric off my shoulders, letting it fall. He paused to kiss the bare skin of my shoulders, his lips and tongue tracing hot paths. A fresh rush of heat pooled between my thighs as his kisses trailed along my collarbone. It was like every nerve in my body followed wherever he touched, every inch desperate for more. His hand stayed on the back of my neck, holding me steady as his other hand moved over my back, fingers exploring with intent.

Pressed against him, my bound hands fell lower, feeling the hard ridge beneath his pants. I wanted him inside me, right now. I stroked him through his trousers, craving the feeling of his skin on mine, without the barrier of fabric.

He made a quiet sound, one I couldn't quite decipher, before lowering his head to taste my neck again, his lips softer this time, savouring. My lips ached to taste him too, leaning toward his mouth, hoping he'd finally give in. This time, he didn't tease. His mouth claimed mine, his tongue sliding against mine in a dance that was gentle and possessive all at once.

In a smooth motion, he turned me, grabbing my soaked panties in one hand, pulling me close with the other. The thickness of him pressed hard against my ass as he tugged me back, and I arched into him, desperate for more contact.

He guided me back toward the bed until I bent over it, my bound hands falling between my thighs, my cheek pressed to the soft quilt. My ass was high in the air, bare and exposed for him only with my panties in the way. I felt his gaze travel over me, lingering as he took in the sight. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading them apart until I was wide open, vulnerable—and completely his. With both hands on my ass, he tugged at my panties until they reached the tops of my thighs, then he yanked them down, letting the cool air kiss my skin.

He gripped the fabric again, and with a swift, tearing motion, ripped them from my body. I should've been mad, but no. I felt my arousal spike at the thought of being bare, vulnerable, completely at his mercy.

Finally, there was nothing left between us. And as his hands roamed over my skin, I knew I was his to claim, and I'd never wanted anything more. Finally, he was going to own me.