With Love

Chapter 8

"Come," he takes my hand and almost drags me inside and back to his not-so-humble abode.

The urge to wrap myself around him and pick-up from where we left off is almost irresistible, did you remember to wax? Yes. What if you missed a spot? A little hair won't hurt... right? What if he's into hair? Should I have not waxed? I wonder how many women he's been with? Probably a lot. A million and one questions bounce off of the walls inside my brain, the walk to his bedroom almost seems hours long, the anticipation dragging me along tantalisingly slow. Before I know it, we're through his bedroom door and suddenly the million questions dissolve and I only have one thing on my mind, Beau.

"Come here," he almost whispers, tightly gripping my waist with one hand and reaching to cup my buttocks with the other, he pushes me against the wall of his bedroom as he sucks harshly against my neck - the action makes my head roll back in pleasure. I push my crotch against his, longing for some relief, I can feel him growing and the satisfaction of knowing I'm doing this to him, is almost as sensational as how I'm feeling right now. He grips my arse harder, hitching my dress up with the action, "I've been wanting to rip this dress off of you all fucking night," he growls into my ear.

"I could say the same about that suit," I blush, taking my bottom lip between my teeth. He takes me by surprise as his lips crash against mine, he sucks slightly before my lip slips from my teeth and in between his, he bites down gently before pulling away.

"Don't do that," he says before crashing our lips together again, our tongues dance to the tune of seduction and I can feel the arousal bubbling over inside of me, it's almost too much to take anymore - I need him.

"I need you," I surprise myself as the worlds fall from my lips in between kisses.

"Enough said," he laughs, breaking away from our indulgent kiss. He pulls my coat from my shoulders, it drops to the floor but neither of us exactly run to pick it up, his hands meet the hem of my dress as he slowly and seductively pulls it up, I don't even have time to question whether or not my body unclothed will be enough for him or what he expected, by the time I can even think twice the material is pulled over my head. "Fuck," he curses - he moves away from me, I stand there awkwardly as he scans my body. I almost applaud myself for wearing matching garments incase I just happened to bone a millionaire tonight. My white laced bottoms which don't leave much for the imagination are paired with an equally seductive bra, the removable straps stayed home, leaving my bare shoulders for maximum display, the extra padding in the now-strapless laced bra pushing my already-full breasts up, I've never considered myself having a problematic relationship with my body, I work out, I own my voluptuously shaped body and I 'fake it to make it' if you must.

"Your body is," he begins, "fucking wow," he breaths. "Did you wear these on purpose," he tugs at the delicate string of my underwear, the action makes me melt - his hand being that close to the desirability is killing me, and I like it.

"Maybe," I wink at him, I shake my hips side to side playfully and turn around - smack! His hand connects harshly to my arse. "Ow," I playfully let out.

"Do it again," he says. "Shake your arse for me, Sophia." He orders me. Oh my.

His words make my stomach knot, no man has ever ordered me or spoken dirty to me - I'm so amateur to this that I'm not even sure if what he's saying is dirty talking. I push the thought aside and bravery takes it's throne, I move my hips again, this time a little less playfully and a lot more seductively - I can feel the round of my arse move with my hips, "I didn't picture you as an arse man," I laugh.