The Tenant (18+) (Sample)

Three

Author's Note:
It's about to get pretty hardcore. Are you ready? Y'all better be prepared.

"Maybe I'm even hoping I'll get a glimpse of you half naked again," Christopher says throatily, the ghost of a smile wiped from his face as his eyes narrow.

     With little control over myself, I bite my lower lip, the predatory expression plain on his face eliciting a quiet whimper from me. A smirk tugs at the corner of his full lips, clearly enjoying how receptive I am to his words. He leans back from the counter, the air growing colder as the distance between us grows, before hopping over the island. Pulling me to my feet, we stand mere metres apart, the smell of his cologne thick in my lungs as every nerve ending in my body burns with desire to reach out and touch him.

"I get the feeling that you're hoping to get a glimpse of me half naked, too."

     Christopher's fingers hook around the hem of his shirt, pulling it up slightly to show the defined V where his abs meet his hips. I keep eye contact, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of showing just how affected I am by him, but even in my periphery, the sight scolds me. Heat rises in waves from the tips of my toes to the very top of my head, filling my face with a blush that gives me away.

"You don't have to speak, Ashleigh," he says as he closes the gap, lifting a hand to stroke along my cheekbone. "Your face is like an open book. I can see your every thought etched across it."

"If that were true, you'd know I'm not interested," I lie, the tightness of my throat wrapping around the words to betray me.

"Hm, is that so?" Christopher asks, cocking his head infinitesimally to the side as he surveys me. "So me doing this won't bother you, will it?"

     Slipping his hand into my pants, he cups my core over my underwear, sending warmth cascading through my body like a waterfall. I shiver against him, goose-pimples coating my arms as I begin to melt under his intense stare. He licks his lips in one smooth, lascivious movement, his eyes narrowing as my arousal becomes evident. I don't move his hand away, I don't move at all, focussing only on this incredibly erotic moment before the professional side of my brain can rear its ugly head.

     Like a deer in headlights, my eyes lock with his. He stares back, eyes trained on me for any sign that I want this to stop. Finding nothing but returned desire, he traces a finger experimentally along my slit, pushing the rough lace against my folds. I sigh, eyes fluttering slightly as I support myself against the Island, sure I'll fall otherwise. When my gaze returns to Christopher's, his eyes are widened, the pupils dilated as his finger moves against me again.

     Reaching under the hem of his shirt, my fingers skirt his abs, tracing the deep dips and valleys between each muscle. The feel of him, paired with the slow and rhythmic rubbing of my cl!t, has me seeing stars.

"Tell me how good it feels," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.

     I want to tell him that this is the best anyone has ever made me feel, that I want him to carry on until I can't stand, but I can't form words. Each thought blurs incoherently into the next.

"If you won't tell me, then show me. Let go."

     As though his command was all I needed, I uncoil myself. I'm free of inhibitions, unable to think of anything past this very moment and the things he's making me feel. I grasp at his shirt and lean on the island for support as the pad of his thumb works tirelessly against the most sensitive part of me. Pressure builds in the pit of my stomach, begging for release. I buck my hips against him as he slides a finger inside me, the walls of my core welcoming him as I let out a breathy moan.