Older || 18+

2. Emma 🌶️

I smile, taking a final sip of my scotch. As I stand up, a wave of dizziness hits me. The drinks are definitely getting to me now. He offers his hand, and I gladly take it, grateful for the stability. His touch sends electricity through my skin. I don't let go as we walk to the elevators, enjoying the feel of his strong grip.

Once inside, the doors slide closed. The space shrinks around us, the tension thickening. His proximity is intoxicating, the air humming. The urge to kiss him swells within me.

The elevator jolts to a stop, and I lose my footing. My hands fly out, bracing against his chest. He's solid under my palms, steady.

He chuckles, and I smile sheepishly.

"You're drunk," he says, steadying me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Just a little bit tipsy."

He doesn't let go of my shoulder, his thumb stroking my skin. His touch is gentle, soothing.

The doors open and we step out into the corridor. My heart is pounding as he leads me to his room. A knot forms in my stomach, nerves and alcohol mixing. I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. It's just a one-time thing, no need to stress.

He unlocks the door, his other hand still holding onto me. The room is luxurious, a large bed dominating the space. I can't help but feel small and insecure, like I don't belong. I've never been a luxury girl, not used to such extravagance. My room is so much smaller than this. This is ginormous, a suite.

"Sit," Ares says, pointing to a chair in the corner of the room. I figured we would go to the bed, but I listen to his command regardless.

He disappears into another room of the suite and comes back with a glass of water and what looks like a cereal bar. He hands them both to me. I look up at him, confused.

"What's this?"

"Water and a granola bar," he answers.

"Well, obviously, but-"

"You need to sober up before I take you to bed," he explains. "I refuse to sleep with you if you can't fully and soberly consent."

That makes sense, but both drunk me and sober me want him now. I start to argue, but before I can say anything, he continues talking.

"I've been on a plane all day, so I'm going to go shower and freshen up. You will have time to sober up and sit with your thoughts. If you decide you don't want this, youre free to leave at any time."

I take a sip of the water and nod my head.

"If you're still here when I get out of the shower, we can move this to my bed," he says, before turning and walking into what I assume is the bathroom.

I sit in silence and sip my water. It's nice that he's ensuring that I am safe and consenting, but at the same time, I wish we were already in his bed.

I open the cereal bar and practically devour it. I hadn't realized how hungry I was. After spending most of the day with my mother, I haven't eaten very much. I never eat much around her. She always has to comment on it.

I walk around the room while I finish the glass of water. It's amazing how much that one granola bar and glass of water does to sober me up. I'm steadier on my feet, more clear headed, and even more sure that I want to fuck this man.

I walk to the large window and peer out at the night sky. It's beautiful, dark and pulsing with stars.

I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Ares walking toward the bed.

He sits, looking up at me with those intense brown eyes. "Come here."

I step closer, and he pulls me to him, my body between his legs. He rests his hands on my hips, his touch sending shivers through me. He's so close, the heat of his body radiating through me. My hands rest on his shoulders, his damp skin under my palms. I trace his muscles, enjoying the hardness of his form.

"Are you feeling more sober now?" He asks.

"I am."

He looks up at me, his eyes hooded, his hands gripping my hips.

"May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yes," I breathe.

His hands slide up my back, his fingers tracing my spine until he finds the zipper of my dress. Slowly, he pulls the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room. I shiver as the cool air hits my bare skin. He peels the dress off, his hands skimming my sides.

The fabric pools around my feet, leaving me in only my bra and panties.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over me. His gaze is heavy, full of desire. My body responds to his touch, goosebumps erupting over my skin.

He cups my face in his hands, pulling me closer, his lips brushing mine. The kiss is slow, sensual, his tongue exploring my mouth. He tastes of liquor and mint. I melt into him, my hands gripping his shoulders. He moves his lips to my neck, his stubble tickling my skin. I can't help the sigh escaping me.

His body is firm and toned under my fingertips, his skin soft and warm. I run my hands over his chest, enjoying the feel of him.

He moves to my collarbone, peppering it with kisses. I tilt my head back, my eyes closing as I give in to the pleasure. His hands are all over me, touching, caressing. My skin tingles, every nerve ending alive and electrified.

"You're perfect," he whispers against my skin.

I moan softly as he reaches behind my back, unclasping my bra. He takes a moment to admire me, his eyes raking over me.

"Absolutely stunning," he breathes.

I can't help the blush that colors my cheeks.

"Come here." He grabs me by the waist, pulling me onto his lap.

He's hard against me, his erection pressing into my thigh.

His fingers brush over my skin, teasing me, drawing moans from me. His touch is addictive, making me crave more.

He leans forward, capturing my nipple in his mouth. The sensation is electric, sending shockwaves through me. My hands find their way into his hair, holding him close.

His hands grip my hips, his fingers pressing into my flesh. The pressure is exquisite, building the tension within me. I can't help but rock my hips against him, desperate for more friction.

"Patience," he whispers, his lips still on my nipple.

"I don't want to be patient," I say, the words coming out almost like a whine.

"I'm going to make you come," he promises, his breath hot on my skin. "But we have all night."

I groan in frustration, but I know he's right. He knows what he's doing.

He continues his sweet torture, alternating between sucking and biting, each sensation making me shudder. His fingers dig deeper into my hips, the pressure almost painful. But the pain only adds to the pleasure, heightening it.