Roller Coaster

4: Tonight, She Was His Slave...

What is a cowgirl? Certainly, she was neither a cow nor a female wrangler. For heaven's sake, she was a twenty-one-year-old virgin—not some grass-munching bovine.

Francis was fast asleep in their living room. Mrs. Domingo had allowed him to stay the night because he looked like a lost child looking for his mommy—her exact words. She didn't dare wake him up. Whatever happened tonight could wait for tomorrow.

With a yawn, she trod to her bedroom, locked the door, and slipped out of the heavy dress. Now, the gown held something memorable. As she sat down to remove the rest of her attire, a heavy sigh reverberated from her chest.

All this time, she had been wearing brown, leather boots.

Cowgirl... The handsome stranger noticed. An unconscious smile formed on her lips as she recalled the evening's events. He was a few inches taller than she was, wearing a grin that melted women's hearts like ice cream on a hot sunny day. She felt herself warm at the memory of him.

What's a girl got to do? He was a hot dancer, an amazing singer, and a damn good kisser. Her fingers touched her lips, reminiscing on the kiss that felt like it lasted a forever.

What if he was one of the guests' escort? What if he was paid for his services? What if he was simply tasked to entertain the bored visitors?

Earth to Aidan. Stop overanalysing!

She plopped unto her bed. Her sheets were cool and velvety. Having her own room and bed was one of Aidan's prized personal comforts. She closed her eyes again and imagined the first time his lips possessed hers.

The kiss was gentle and exploring. A shiver ran up her neck as she recalled the sensation of it brushing her jaw. Her mind drifted to sleep as the new mysterious prince took refuge in her dreamscape.

Tonight, she was his slave...

******

"Wake up, cowgirl," a gentle voice cooed.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open as the bright rays of sunlight rushed to light her world. Was I sleep walking?  She had been standing all this time, leaning on a giant tree trunk. Her head tilted up as the familiar voice matched a familiar face.

Desire... his eyes were clouded with desire. Dark, wild, and irrational. It was a complete 180-turn from the voice that broke her slumber. His pupils were dilated, and they were searching hers for specific reaction.

With his strong arms wrapped around her waist, she could feel his body radiating a primal heat that made her legs wobble. He lowered his head to capture her mouth in his. She parted them to protest, but his lips had begun caressing her neck with butterfly kisses.

He pressed with the gentlest pressure. An act that forced out an unexpected moan. He pulled her closer and pressed his hips to hers.

She imagined the lustful prince's familiar smirk transforming into a seductive grin. With a sharp inhale, she smelled the scent of sandalwood and cedar, along with a touch of lavender and fresh grass. His hair was gelled, and it scraped her cheek with every kiss he planted on her neck.

She planted her palms on his chest to push him away. Instead, it roamed hungrily to discover every inch of his body. Two mischievous hands held the lapels of his shirt as she tore it apart with raw urgency. The ripping sound caused him to grind his body to hers. His heartbeat was now hers, and they were syncing frequencies.

A gentle breeze swayed the tree branches above her. The rough trunk she was leaning on contrasted his smooth skin, both texture converging to heighten the tension like alcohol and drugs.

Stop! Her entire body disobeyed her. She held his face in trembling hands and crushed her hungry mouth to his. Her teeth grazed his lips as she bit it with controlled force. An unfathomable desperation dominated her senses. She felt herself yearning for the taste of him. Parting his mouth, she plunged a teasing tongue into its soft recesses.

The desire was too strong. If logic was a floating feather, human nature was a rolling boulder. She clawed his back and heard him groan.

"I—I—I want you." Her nails buried further into his skin. The desire had heightened her senses and every sensation coaxed her to give in. Her blood was boiling with heat of the Sahara, a complete contrast to the coolness that touched her skin.

For a brief moment, she stole a glimpse of her surroundings. The sky had a cerulean hue, and the grass transformed to hay. As the leaves fell from the tree top, greens turned to pinks. It reminded her of cherry blossoms, floating in the air like little dancing sprites. Twisting, turning, and swaying at the rhythmic ballad playing in her head.

Her fingers travelled from his back to the nape of his neck, kneading his muscles with lascivious ferocity. It elicited a guttural growl that sent chills through her extremities.

"Don't tempt me, cowgirl," he whispered gruffly, his hot breath blowing raggedly into her ear. "I will have you here." There was something unnatural about him. The dream itself felt too real.

In an instant, she landed on a soft hay bed with him on top of her. How she got there remained a mystery. The prince buried his hand beneath her shirt. His body pressed heavily on top of hers so she could feel its heat. With his face barely inches from hers, he whispered softly, "Wake up, Aidan. Wake up."

Note: As I've mentioned earlier, this isn't as  teen-ish as Arcade. I can't wait to divulge Mystery Guy's identity. 

Any questions? Comments? Violent reactions? Please don't forget to vote or star this chapter if you like it. Many thanks in advance!

This particular chapter is dedicated to IzzyRam.