Page 54 of Black Light: Cured

Her socks are bright, almost like dayglow with one yellow and the other orange. Unable to help

myself, I tilt my head back and laugh. I’m not making fun of her, but the bright red spots on her cheeks

tell me that’s how she’s taking it.

It’s more the fact that she seems to be my opposite in almost every single way. Leaving her socks

on, I run my fingers up the backs of her legs, pausing when I get to the lacy panties.

“Did you wear these for me? Or do you put on sexy panties for all your clients?” Even as the

words come out of my mouth, I regret them.

Not because I think they’ll make her upset but because of the visceral, gut reaction that

accompanies those words. If she says that she wears them all the time, I can probably handle that. I

wouldn’t like it, but I’m not the type to dictate someone’s wardrobe. That’s not my kink.

Until I’m done with this budding relationship, until I’m ready to move on, I want every inch of this

woman, and that includes the sexy packaging she dresses herself in. No other man or woman should

have the privilege of knowing what little she wears under those ‘professional’ scrubs. That’s for me

and me alone, as irrational as it seems.

“I wore them for you.” Her voice is soft, plaintive, as if she didn’t want to admit that.

Grinning like an idiot, I slide my hand forward between her splayed thighs, cupping her mound.

“Oh really?” I breathe against her neck, feeling the dampness as I run my palm back and forth. “Did

you think I was going to be able to see them? Did you plan all this just so I’d strip you and see what

an aroused mess you are?”

“N-no. I… I don’t know. I felt sexy in them and wanted to feel sexy around you. Besides,” she

shoots back. “How could I know how tonight would play out?”

“I’m going to take these off now. I want to see just how wet you really are.”

Moaning, Lila turns her face into her arm and hides there, as if I can’t see the humiliating crimson

crossing her cheeks. Once I slide her panties down and toss them with her pants, I buckle her legs to

the cross, making sure nothing impedes what I’m about to do.

Again, I slide my fingers in between her thighs, groaning as the heat of her flesh scorches my

hand. God she’s so wet. So needy. I ease my fingertips back, grazing against her clit that’s already

hard and begging for attention. The moment I touch that pleasure center, she arches back, her body

demanding satisfaction. A smile crosses my lips as I notch my fingers at her entrance, listening to the

haggard breaths that fall from her lips.