Story cover for Only Us+ by riatanian
Only Us+
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  • WpHistory
    Time 14m
  • WpView
    Reads 41
  • WpVote
    Votes 2
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 14m
Ongoing, First published Jun 26, 2022
Mature
Warning- Sexual Content 

The city pulsed with life, its streets alive with the hum of voices, the rhythm of footsteps, and the occasional burst of laughter. Among the chaos, Demetria Alexander moved with purpose, her slim-thick frame wrapped in confidence that turned heads wherever she went. Her dark skin glowed under the streetlights, and her curly hair framed a face that held secrets in the depths of her black, hypnotic eyes. She was magnetic, unapologetic, and utterly unforgettable.
Helios Georgiu Ro watched from the shadows of his office window, high above the bustling streets. His tan skin caught the faint glow of his desk lamp, and his dirty blonde hair fell in loose waves over his forehead. Olive-green eyes, sharp and calculating, followed her every move. He was a man of precision, a tech mogul who thrived on control-but in this moment, control was slipping through his fingers. Demetria had captured his attention, and he couldn't look away.
She was filming again, her camera perched precariously on the edge of a fountain. The crowd barely noticed her, but Helios did. He always did. Her boldness fascinated him, her audacity infuriated him, and her allure consumed him. Tonight, she was more than a stranger. Tonight, she was a temptation he couldn't resist.
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𝓑𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝓓𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙴

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He strokes himself with his eyes closed, and there he is-laid out in front of him, thighs parted, skin slick with desire. He imagines his hand sliding up that throat, feeling the shiver rise under his palm before tightening just enough to draw a gasp. His mouth would follow-hungry-down that taut chest, licking, biting, until a rough moan spills out. He knows how that body would respond: the way the hips would lift, aching for more, when his tongue moves lower, so much lower, tasting that salty, trembling skin. And those eyes... those 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 eyes drowning in pleasure, staring back at him with that kind of yielding that would drag a growl from his chest. He sinks deeper into it-deeper into the vision-imagining his fingers there, buried to the knuckles, while the other writhes beneath him, lips swollen from begging too long.