Castle Rock., Denver, December 1, 2016
Thursday
Elysia Rosalie Lockwood
Lucien's house isn't nearly as loud as his car. It's cozy and elegant in dark shades of grey's, black, and stone. With the layout, it reminds me of an elderly couples home. A home where kids could be raised, christmases shared and enjoyed. Luciens' spin on it, turning it more modern and lavish is exceptional. I wonder if he did it all himself?
We step into a small foyer. There's a trophy case on the far wall with doctoral diploma's and large sports trophies and impressive rewards shining on the glass shelves. I notice he has only portraits and paintings hanging on the walls; no family photos. Huh. The room parts off into two seperate ways. To the right is a large living room and curving up and to the left is a long narrow hallway.
"Let me take your wrap." He pulls it off my shoulders.
"Your house is stunning," I compliment as he hangs the wrap in the closest. When he's done he clasps my hand again, intertwining his fingers with mine. The gesture is so simple and small, but it tingles my senses and warms my body.
He leads us to the right, into the spacious living room. The flooring is different from the dark stone slate tiles in the foyer, the grey carpet coupled nicely with the light shaded furniture. The window that stretched wide along the wall over-looks the front yard and garden.
We step into the kitchen, the aroma of fresh garlic and herbs immediately filling my nose. My heels echo on the stone slate tiles as he leads me to the rectangular table. It's already set for two, and I can't help but notice his is set at the opposite end than mine. I ignore the disappointment and invite the relief.
"I hope you're not vegetarian," he says softly, scooting my chair in as I sit.
"I'm not." I love meat.
He places the food on the center of the glass table. The dish is a filet mignon, mashed potatoes, and sautéed mushrooms. I'm incredibly impressed looking at the restaurant grade dish. He pours a decanter of Red wine, as I prepare to taste what he cooked himself. Alone. With his... hands. What can he not do?
It all smells amazing, and heat is still there though he let it all rest while he drove to me and back. My stomach is in knots and I struggle to find my appetite.
"Not hungry?" He infers, his dominating voice pulling my attention. It's so uncomfortable, him watching my every move. Uneasiness ruffles through me and I can't stop squirming: my heart won't stop racing, my breath pace is erratic and I'm trying to calm myself. I'm so nervous.
His eyes search mine intently, smirking when he finds his answer. He knows I'm nervous. He likes me squirming.
"Keep looking at me like that and I'll be eating you instead of the meal." I gasp, gaping at him. Immediately I imagine him tasting me down there. Obviously, I've never had that done. Yet, his inviting, expert mouth on my mound... I leak in my panties.
I lick my lips, "Do you talk to all your dates like that?" I mutter.
He replies cooly. "I don't date."
I'm quick with my response, not giving it a second thought, "Guess that makes two of us."
"Luckily, I plan to do much more than date you, Elysia." My skin heats and my cheeks flush.
YOU ARE READING
Burning Desires
Non-FictionThey were both so determined to have me. So relentless in their chase. I tried to tell the both of them I couldn't do it. I didn't date. I didn't have sex. I didn't do anything other than what was expected of me. But neither would listen and It...
