Rosie White, an Art History student working to achieve her life goal of becoming a sought-after local artist. She pours her heart and soul into her art and dreams of falling in love. After Rosie lost her grandma, and with no parents in sight, she se...
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We stop at a large mahogany door where Alexander places a key card in before pushing it wide. He pushes me into the room, and I gasp at the beauty. It matches the rest of the estate, old fashioned but beautiful. The bed is huge, wooden frame with beams reaching towards the ceiling on each edge with white drapes hanging.
There's a matching chest of draws and dressing table and what looks like probably a bathroom to the side. There's an overnight bag sitting in the corner by an armchair along with some branded bags, brands I've never heard of which makes me think they're expensive.
Alex moves to the bed and pulls his tie off, dropping his jacket and tie to the floor. He removes his cufflinks and drops them to the bedside table.
"Rosie?" He calls for me.
I look up from his bare arms where he's rolling his shirt sleeves up and glance at his face, "Yes?"
"Come here."
I swallow and remain rooted to the spot. Which clearly aggravates Alexander even more.
"Rosie." His tone is fierce and, hot. "Come here." He repeats.
I move forward slowly; Alexander watches my every move. When I reach him, his hands move to rest of my hips as he parts his legs and pulls me between them. Standing in front of him, I hardly have to look down he's so tall.
One hand leaves my hips as he pulls my clutch from my hands and drops it to the floor where his tie and jacket lay. His eyes never leave mine as he returns his touch to my hip.
"Alex?" I whisper.
The look that washed over his features earlier this evening when I placed a kiss onto his cheek in the ballroom reappears but remains. Now I see it more clearly, I know this look. Lust.
I feel the searing heat from Alex's hands as they glide over the silk of my dress, over the curve of my arse and down my thighs. His right hand moves to meet his left, gliding over the bare skin of my open leg through the slit of my dress. My breath hitches, my stomach tingles and I swear I just got wetter.
And like the telepathic man he is, Alexander reads me like an open book. His fingertips glide over my skin as they make their way down my calf and onto my foot. One thick hand grasps my ankle, while the other works the clasp of my heels. When he lifts my foot, my arms move at their own accord to balance myself, grasping onto Alex's shoulders.
His touch moves to my other leg as I rest my now bare right foot onto the soft carpet. My body relaxes as Alex works the clasp of the remaining shoe. When this one is released, I flex my sore and tired toes into the fluffy carpet.
Now I don't have the height of my shoes, I'm just about level with Alexander while he remains seated on the bed. I glance down and eye the bulge sitting prominent in the black trousers. Well fuck me till Friday, he's big. I mean what did I expect? He's a wall of muscle.
