AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Evan!” I exclaim in surprise when my gaze lands on him across the room.
I look at Aaron, who stands with his arms folded over his chest. “I’ll leave you two locked in here until you work out a solution. Talk, fuck, punch each other…I don’t care. Just sort it out.” He grabs the keys on the table and storms out of the house before we can even say a word.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Evan.
“Aaron told me he had a solution to my problems, and I flew across the country like an idiot. Though it’s no surprise that if Aaron says jump, everyone says how high.” He’s angry, and that makes me nervous. Taking it out on me for something his brother did doesn’t seem like the best way to start solving our problems. Especially since ten days ago he didn’t think twice about giving me the best fuck of my life, lying on his couch.
I don’t know if I’m angrier because Aaron set this trap for us or because Evan is annoyed to be here with me. When it comes to him, I can’t think clearly. “Aaron thinks I’m the solution to your problems.” I shrug, remembering my thousand conversations with his brother about the subject.
Evan smiles and gets closer. He’s almost hesitant, like I’m a wild animal he doesn’t know how to tame. He reaches out his hand and grabs mine. My eyes rest on his, full of questions I can’t answer.
“Are you the solution to my problems?” he whispers as he gets closer and grabs me by the hip, drawing me to himself.
I put my hand on his chest and get lost in the crazy hammering of his heart. “No, Evan. I can’t solve your problems. You have to be the one to do it.” My voice comes out in a whisper too.
Evan rests his forehead on mine, and my eyes close to savor this moment. It’s the thrill I never noticed while we were working together, but is shaking every single part of me. A thrill I struggle to ignore. Once I’ve experienced what it is to be possessed by this man, I’m like a junkie looking for another fix. Having sex with Evan is wrong because it taints an already precarious relationship, and could break it irreparably, ruining what little we have left.
But when his lips rest on mine, all the good intentions, the reasons why what we’re doing is wrong, slip away, giving way to pure desire. We are in the middle of Aaron’s living room, but it’s like we’re light years away, in a world of our own where our bodies belong to each other, where all that matters is an attraction that almost hurts.
“Take off your clothes,” he whispers as soon as he interrupts a kiss that tastes of desire and frustration.
I look up hesitantly at him. The determination in his eyes sets my body on fire.
“Take off your clothes,” he repeats more decisively, and this time I obey, unzipping the back and letting my dress slide to the floor. I stand in front of him with just my underwear and high heels. He devours every inch of my skin with his eyes, every curve of my body.
“Take the rest off, but keep your shoes on.” Another order, and the adrenaline pumping in my veins makes me tremble.
I undress slowly, enjoying his expression and dreamy gaze on my bare skin. Evan looks at me with barely a hint of a smile on his lips, hands in his pockets, his gaze resting on every inch of my skin. He takes as much time as he wants and makes me quiver waiting for his next order.
Because if there’s one thing I know about him it’s that he always likes to be in charge. He enjoys having control even in the most intimate part of his life.
“Take offmyclothes.”
The new order surprises me. The calm of those words and the impact of his deep voice on my arousal makes me hesitantly move toward him. I pull off his jacket while I look straight into his eyes. He knows he has power over me at this moment, and this awareness makes me breathless.
Evan understands that as much as I’m an independent and determined woman in everyday life, in the bedroom, I like a man who takes what he wants without fear. I don’t want tenderness or sweet caresses. I want to feel the vivid emotions on my skin. I want determination in the hands that possess me. And Evan knows it. He understood it the moment he first laid his lips on mine and tasted the power he has over me. And I can only beg for more.
In the past, I’ve tried pursuing my pleasure every time I was in bed with a man. I used fantasy to give myself what men couldn’t. I don’t need it with him because my every fantasy becomes a reality.
The tie and the shirt slide on the floor along with the jacket. I observe his sculpted body, the defined pecs, and the abs that seem to be painted on a perfect canvas. I brush against his skin with my lips, the tip of my nose, but I don’t touch it. I kneel before him, bend to take off his shoes and socks, and climb back to his belt. My hands shake with excitement as I unfasten the buckle, button, and zipper and slide the light fabric onto the floor. I stare at the erection the boxers can’t hide.
I shiver with excitement before sliding a couple of fingers under the boxer band and freeing him of the last garment that separates us. Here, the object of my indecent desire is in front of me. I look up at him and find the smirk so different from the everyday Evan. I’m breathless.
“Hands behind your back,” he orders me.
I carry out his command with trepidation, waiting for what he’ll do. When he sticks his hands behind my head and grabs my hair in a grip, I almost groan with pleasure. He slowly sinks his erection between my lips, and I enjoy the choked breath that comes out of his chest. He is handsome from down here, and when his eyes return to mine, the grin that appears on his lips makes me almost reach the peak of my pleasure.
I close my eyes, unable to hold back a moan. I want to put my hand between my thighs and unleash my orgasm, but his order to put my hands behind my back causes me more pleasure than having them between my legs.
“Look at me,” he orders, sinking into my throat, and my eyes open wide in search of his.
Thrust after thrust, I watch him struggling to maintain control over his body and his pleasure until his restraint reaches the point of no return, and with a decisive gesture, he pulls me up. His tongue makes its way between my lips in a dirty, frantic kiss that makes me breathless.
He pushes me onto the couch, on my knees, with my hands on the backrest. He climbs behind me, leaning his chest on my back, his arm just below my breast, then sinks in, tearing a moan of pleasure from me. His lips, his tongue, his teeth taste my shoulder, my neck, while with the other hand, he grabs my breast and squeezes it in a grip of pleasure and pain that makes me reach the climax and tremble.
He holds me tight against himself as he continues his assault with thrusts that make me short of breath, and when he, too, reaches his pleasure, the embrace is so tight that our bodies seem to merge. Panting, we collapse on the back of the sofa, trying to catch our breath.
“That’s the second time we’ve had sex without a condom,” he whispers, holding me tightly. I turn to him and a shadow crosses his face, as though he feels guilty.
