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Chapter 5
Willow
When we get to the office, I'm surprised nothing is out of place. There is a wide rectangular window overlooking the bar floor below. You can see everything from up here.
"It's one-way glass; we have privacy," Ares confirms.
He brushes his finger down my arm, and goosebumps form along my skin. Silence engulfs the room, and I'm starting to feel awkward about coming up here. Ares must sense my mood change because he goes over to the side table and pours a generous amount of dark brown liquid in two glasses. Motioning to the dark blue couch, he hands me a drink. Sitting, taking a large gulp from nerves, some liquid pours out the side of my mouth and down my chin. Ares shocks me when he gets in my face and licks the fluid from my chin.
"What was that?" I pull back to see his eyes, which are stormy blue orbs fixated on my mouth.
"Just helping you with this problem we have," he smiles, toying with the collar of my shirt.
"What problem is that?" my brows are furrowed. It's hard to concentrate. Ares scent is overwhelming me -its soap and something mistakenly him.
"The fact that we want each other," he moves in closer, skimming his fingers along my cheek, using his thumb to outline my lips.
"Are you high?" I ask, trying to pull back from his touch, but it's hard because it feels so damn good.
Ares laughs, and I just stare at him. He's fucking hot, and he knows it. He has a classically handsome face rugged with his 5 o'clock shadow that he hasn't bothered to shave. That on top of his muscular body makes me want to lose myself. But this is absurd; I can't sleep with Ares.
"Nah, vixen.
Don't overthink this. You, me and one hell of a hate fuck," he moves into my personal space, and I feel his hand on the back of my neck. We are within inches of each other. My throat has gone dry.
"What did you just say," I blink.
"We can get out some of this tension we have for each other. If you've never had a hate fuck, I highly recommend it," Ares smiles, kissing me fiercely.
I wait for half a beat and kiss him back. My tongue matches his stroke for stroke. I moan.
Ares' hands are on the buttons of my blouse.
The air exposure is replaced by his tongue that is licking at the edge of my bra's fabric. I take the blouse off and let the material hit the floor.
Ares cups his hand over my right tit and runs his finger over the nipple through the material. I kiss his lips as he ravages my mouth; my hands are at the edge of his t-shirt, insisting he take it off. Ares laughs and moves his hands, taking the shirt over his head and tossing it behind him. He leans into me, grabbing me by the knees and pulling me down the couch. When he gets on top of me, he starts kissing my cheek, working his lips down my neck. My heart starts to race at the gentleness of the gesture. I didn't expect this to be so unhurried. My hands go to his hair, and I feel him take my bra strap down my arm as he is placing soft kisses, making his way slowly to the mounds of my breast. His fingers deftly reach around my back and unclasp my bra.
I wore my red set underneath my sheer black shirt and mini skirt. When my boobs are free, he is lavishing them with his tongue – one then the other. I am so wet by his careful exploration that when I reach down, I pull my mini skirt higher on my hips and reach for the button of his jeans.
"Not yet, vixen," he rasps.
I look into his eyes and wonder what he's thinking. Ares motions to my hips and says, "I need these off."
He helps me get my skirt and panties off, and when I lay back bared to him, I see his breath catch.
Before I know it, he's between my thighs. When his tongue hits my clit, I almost come up off the couch; the feeling is so intense. I'd be embarrassed by my moans, but it feels too fucking good to care. The sensation is driving me mad; I gasp out, "Ares, please!"
"Say my name!"
My eyes meet his, and I say, "Ares!"
"No, say my name!" his expression is so intense, his fingers never stopping their rhythm.
It takes me another few seconds to think of his real name, "Jamison," I call out finally on a groan.
As soon as I do, he is between my legs again with that magical mouth. When my orgasm hits me, I reach up with my hands, finding the arm of the couch, gripping it tightly as I close my eyes.
Ares must discard his jeans and boxers while I'm reeling from my climax because the next thing, I hear is the rip of the foil packet. I glance down, and my eyes widen a little at his size. He grips my knees and pulls me forward so he can settle into me.
