"I hate you." My voice cracks as I tell him.
His feet stop at the door.
I clutch the bedsheet tightly around my chest as he turns around with an emotionless face.
"Then there will be a lot of hate fucking between us." A smirk curve his lips as his g...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"On the bed, Emara."
My heart thumps heavily as I look at Dakota. His soft expressions are all gone, along with his t-shirt as he drags it up over his head.
Ripples of muscles uncover underneath the cloth, and my stomach swirls warmly. I have seen him shirtless before, but never from this close.
I gulp. My fingers tighten around the knot of my towel as I feel an itch to touch his mighty Thor abs, which are deliciously decorated one after the other, and end up disappearing inside his track pants.
"Let go off that towel and get on the bed." Dakota orders me as he tosses his tee aside.
His words go up and down my spine, sending chills all over my body as he lowers his track and stands in just his brief.
He looks identical to the statues of god in the museum. His shoulders appear firm and are beautifully sculpted with the hours of workout he does every day.
I suddenly feel sexual and ready. I take rapid breaths as if I am running, as if my body is about to break away from me like a wild horse and run towards him.
My fingers loosen on the towel on my chest and it falls down to my feet. Goosebumps follow on my skin along with his eyes as he stares at my naked body.
My nipples harden under his hungry gaze, and I feel my sex pooling with wetness. I wish I could blame the ice.
Dakota takes a step away from me and towards the drawer as he pulls out a wrapper, all while keeping his eyes on me like an animal.
I hum with redness as he steps out of his brief and I get to see his cock in its full glory.
Hard. Thick. And dangerously erect.
Dakota rolls a condom on his fully raised beast and I feel my heart thrumming inside my ribs. It is scared, and nervously excited.
He takes a step towards me and I couldn't stop thinking how gorgeous this man is. He moves like he comprises of art and poetry.He himself is an abstraction of abstract.
"Lie on the bed, Emara."
His deep voice reaches to me and I feel drugged to follow his command.
I feel surrendering to his dominance, to his intimidation as I lie on the bed willfully.
My knees spread a little on their own as if my senses have submitted to him and acknowledged him as their owner.
Dakota lowers down to me, his hips spreads my thighs wider as he gets in between them. My hands itch to touch his marble chest and they raise to his-
"What are you doing?" Dakota clutches on to my wrists before they even touch his body.
"Touching you." A whisper spills out of my lips and I witness his eyes narrowing down on me as if I insulted him.
