Page 11 of 100 Days


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“I can’t go all the way on a first date if I need you to respect me in the morning,” I tell him.

Malcolm’s face falls.

But I push out my chest and within seconds he’s thinking with the head that must be leaking precum.

“We shall see,” he growls and I actually smile.

The man is challenging me.

Well, we shall see, won’t we.

He leans into me; electricity pulsing between our lips when they press together. Both his hands are on my face, his lips brushing against me softly. “I want you to have me, but not now” I insist, as I pull back, looking into his eyes. There’s a mischievous expression on his face, one that tells me he already knew I wouldn’t be able to resist him.

“We’ll see how long you keep that line,” he whispers. “You’re already crumbling. It went from no sex ever to no sex just for now.”

“I want to do things right,” I whisper back.

“If that’s what you want,” he smiles then, his hands going to my lower back as his mouth presses against mine once more. I grab his jacket and, with all the patience in the world, take it off of him; my fingers then go to his collar and I start unbuttoning his shirt, anticipating how it will feel to brush my fingers over the smooth skin of his chest.

“You want me to fall in love with you?” Malcolm asks, breaking the spell.

“It’s what I need,” I tell him as I come up for air. Sliding his hand under the opening in my dress, he rests the tip of his fingers over the dimples in my lower back, in that narrow patch of naked skin just before my thong. A shiver goes up my spine at his touch, my mind burning as I succumb to desire. So what if it’s wrong? Maybe I can make an exception just this once. Particularly if it involves someone as young and handsome as Malcolm.

His fingers go around my hips and he rests them over my waist, tracing the contour of my thong as he goes. My heart is already beating fast, and it’s not because of lust and desire. Sure, there’s that too, but somehow it’s different now. It’s something more powerful, more… wickedly sinful. As we touch, the alchemy of our bodies turns wrong into right, forbidden into mandatory.

I finish unbuttoning his shirt and brush my fingers over the hard lines of his abs, tracing their contour as if I’m taking measures. I let my hands climb up to his chest and then they go to his neck; his own hands go up my side and, grabbing my face gently, he parts his lips and slowly brushes his tongue against mine.

How is it even possible to crave someone so much?

His hands go up my body, settling on my shoulders as he hooks his fingers on the straps of my dress. He pulls them down my arms, the front of the dress drooping over my breasts and baring my bra.

He looks at me, licking his lips unconsciously as he looks at my almost naked chest, and then pulls me back into him once more. My naked skin brushes against his, and I can feel it prickling, goose bumps all over me. Trapped in his embrace, I feel his fingers on my back as he unhooks the velvety bra I still have on. I let it slide down my arms, my hard nipples sending a ripple of electricity down my torso as the cool air of the air condition from the limo laps at them.

I sit still, letting Malcolm take a good hard look at me. He isn’t smiling or grinning; he just sits there, by my side, looking at my body as if I’m the last woman on earth.

“You can’t imagine how much I want you. How much I need to feel my cock inside of you,” he says as I grab at his shirt and take it off his body, running the open palm of my hands down his arms. I smile at him, and without taking my eyes off of his, I let my fingers trace a slow and tortuous line over his chest and abs, and then down to his belt. Hooking my fingers around it, I pull Malcolm into me, our foreheads resting against each other. I reach for him with my mouth and tenderly bite his lower lip.

“I can imagine it,” I say, “But not today.”

His hands go down over the curve of my backside and he grabs me there, our bodies pressing against each other. With my naked breasts against his chest, I swear I can almost feel his heart drumming away.

I unbuckle his pants and then I pull the belt out from its loops. My heart’s louder now, almost racing.

This is a dangerous fucking game I’m playing. As softly as I can, I brush the tip of my fingers over his crotch, feeling the shape of his erection straining against his pants. To feel his desire for me is almost magical.

Taking my time, I unbutton his pants, his length pressing against the back of my hands as I do it. My body is already aching to have him in me.

Why am I holding back?

Good question.

I want to take my time. I deserve this. In time. Not now. There’s a bigger picture on the line.

His pants unbuttoned, I brush my fingertip from the base of his cock to his tip, over the smooth fabric of his boxer briefs. He’s pulsing with desire, but he has no other choice but to let me take the lead, allowing me to drive him insane before he finally snaps.

I keep on brushing against his cock just like this, the tip of my finger going up and down, up and down in an endless loop. I look at him and he’s gritting his teeth, hunger flashing behind his eyes. He’s under my spell... as much as I’m under his.

I grab the hem of his boxers, and careful not to touch his cock, I lower them. His massive erection springs free, pointing up and straight at me as if accusing me of tortuous teasing. Just like I love it.

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