Older || 18+

9. Ares 🌶️

I can't sleep. It's been hours since I returned to my room, and I can't stop thinking about Emma. The way she looked in her dress, the way she smelled, the way she tasted. The way she looked when I was feeding her cake.

God, the way she moaned when she ate it. It was like nothing I'd ever heard before. And her lips, those perfect, full lips. The way they wrapped around the fork, taking each bite. It was enough to drive any man crazy.

My cock is aching, desperate for release. But it's not just physical. I'm drawn to her in a way I can't explain. It's not just her looks or her body. It's something deeper. Something I can't ignore.

I roll over, checking the clock on the nightstand. It's nearly three in the morning. I should be asleep, but all I can think about is Emma.

I should have gotten her phone number, or at least her room number. But it's too late for that now. Tomorrow, we'll both be leaving. Off to our separate lives.

I close my eyes, trying to clear my head. But all I can see is her face, her blue eyes staring into mine.

With a sigh, I give in to my desire. My hand snakes down, gripping my cock. I imagine her beside me, her soft skin pressed against mine. Her hand stroking my length, her lips kissing my neck.

I imagine grabbing her by the hair, pressing my cock between those sweet lips. Fucking her face with no restraint. Pushing in until she's gagging, spit dripping down her chin, mascara running down her face.

My strokes become faster, more urgent. My fantasy intensifies. My release builds, the pressure mounting. And as I reach the peak, I can't hold back any longer. My orgasm crashes over me, and I imagine filling her mouth, spilling onto her tongue.

I lie there, panting, spent. The fantasy fading, reality setting in. But even then, my desire for her is still strong. My need is overwhelming.

With a sigh, I sit up. I get out of bed and clean myself off. I throw on a pair of sweatpants and grab a bottle of whiskey. I make my way out onto the balcony. The cool night air feels good against my heated skin.

I take a swig from the bottle, the alcohol burning my throat. I need to get a grip. This is insane. I don't know this woman. Hell, she's practically family now.

But there's something about her. Something I can't deny. And even though I know it's wrong, I can't seem to stop myself.

I finish the bottle, tossing it aside. My mind is still racing, images of Emma flashing before my eyes. I have to find a way to get her out of my system.

I go back inside and grab my phone. I pull up the dating app and start scrolling through the profiles. I swipe through one after another, not feeling any spark. But then, I stop.

Emma's profile.

She's there, in front of me. A picture of her looking straight into the camera. She's wearing a low-cut shirt, showing off her ample cleavage. She's smiling, her lips red and pouty.

I wonder if this is an active account. If she's actually using the app. I swipe through her pictures. One is of her in a bikini, lying on the beach. Her breasts are spilling out of the top, her nipples straining against the fabric. Another is of her in a tank top and jeans, her curves on full display. The next one is a picture of her in what looks like a college study room. She's sitting at a table, books spread out in front of her. She's biting her lip, her hair falling around her face. She's absolutely stunning.

I can't resist. I swipe right. It isn't an instant match, but I didn't think it would be. But she'll see it soon, and she'll make a decision.

I toss the phone aside and try to get some sleep.