: ̗̀➛ part three of the
one for the road series
SNOWFALL / CL16
in which two childhood friends reunite. a formula one driver wants to learn how to snowboard and it just so happens that the daughter of his mum's be...
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✧ ˚ · . CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE . · ˚✧ want to watch you when you take it off
🎶 TiO - Zayn
🌶️ spice warning; just read w caution y'all know me by now
paris, february 2023
No amount of chilled red wine could tamper down the fire burning within me at this moment. It was Thursday night, and there was a soft breeze brushing past my bare legs under the table, the window seat offering a chill and a wonderful view of all the passers-by on their way to the Eiffel Tower around the corner.
This place was a hidden gem, one of the best Italians in the city, and Thomas had pulled some strings to get the four of us a last minute reservation after Celine insisted she wanted to get to know Charles better. So here we were, dressed up and sipping red wine while patiently waiting for our pasta to arrive.
Charles' hand was heavy and hot on my thigh, the tips of his fingers slipping beneath the hem of my—arguably short—dress, and my heart was racing with every trace of his skin against mine. Just like yesterday afternoon, he was playing the part of the innocent man who easily participated in the conversation while I was left flushing behind my glass, twitching uncomfortably in my seat.
I managed to nod and hum along whenever necessary to the conversation between my boyfriend and our two friends, but the throbbing sensation in my core kept me from contributing anything of value to the topics at hand. Another pressing factor contributing intensely to my current predicament was the fact Charles hadn't touched me like this in weeks, since I left for Paris and he for Maranello.
Yesterday, after lunch, I had had to head back to the office while Charles had partner meetings to attend, and we ended up having a late dinner where we were both exhausted. And today, I had had to leave for the office once again, the ghost of Charles' wandering hands on my body a tantalising memory to power me through the rest of the day.
For a woman who had once gone nine years without a proper orgasm inflicted by another person, it had become increasingly addictive to finally have such...heavens within reach whenever possible. My body was itching for it, stretched tight like an elastic band ready to snap, teetering on the edge of ripping in two. Charles' fingers slowly brushing underneath the hem of my short dress and towards the sensitive skin of my inner thighs was not helping me in containing the fire licking at every nerve in my body.
Every time the pad of his finger brushed the edge of the lace of my panties, he stopped. My heart halted with it, a skip in a growing irregularity that would alarm most cardiologists. My own fingers squeeze the stem of my wine glass, the contents half drained, the only distraction I have from the conversation and Charles' dangerous game between my thighs, under the safety of the table cloth.
