Yes Please

The Liason Part 2: Sasha's POV

Just as I thought, he had the presidential suite. It took up half thr 10th floor. Larry's suite occupied the other half. I didn't want him to know I'd never seen such a grand room before, but of course my eyes gave it away. When I walked in, the first to hit me was the scent. Fresh linen, pine potpourri, and a mild undercurrent of industrial cleanser gave the suite its unique smell. He let me through the door first, then proceded ahead to move about the space. He'd moved the chairs and tables in the sitting room against the walls; we really were going to dance.

I rested my bag in the loveseat and stood in the middle of the room, waiting.
"You hungry? You want drink?" He asked, as he sauntered towards me in that sexy way only he does.
"No...," I croaked. "Um, no..." was all I could make out, seeing as though my heart was stuck in my throat.
"No, what?" He asked. I was confused for a second. "Have you forgotten your manners already?"
"Oh.." I chuckled nervously. "No thank you."
He wasted no time starting the music and leaning into me, setting my groin afire. We moved rhythmically to the bass and drums until we became the music, we bece each other. He grabbed my arm and spun me with such force that I hit his chest with my shoulders, and he hit my belly with his manhood. The feeling of it pulsating against my navel caused me to call his name involuntarily.
"Uh! Lau!" I looked into his eyes for reassurance, but found unbridled passion instead. He held me closer and grabbed the back of my head as I buried my face into his neck and inhaled.
"May I touch you here please? " He palmed my buttock like a ripened peach, squeezing gently but firmly at the same time.
"Yes, Lau. Touch me any where every where." I had already surrendered from the moment we first locked eyes, the manifest of my defeat was a mere formality.
Oh my God, he feels so good already!

"Would you like me to touch you here?" He leaned in, fingering my inner thigh, raising his hand, slowly.

"Yes, please." I whispered heavily. The more he engaged the more I wanted; needed.
"There are those manners. I love your manners." His voice hypnotized me as his hand guided me to his bed. The sheets were drawn, the curtain closed and the lights already dimmed. My consumption with desire got the better of me and I grabbed at his shirt to lift it. But he grabbed my hands.