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To be Cinderella.
As Jamsheed kissed her again, Brenda realized how pleased she was with her choice.
***
Now, while she was dedicated to being bold, Brenda also wasn’t going to rush a relationship. The last thing she wanted to do was set the wrong tempo for the attraction building between them. Jamsheed had always been a one-night man with almost any other woman, and definitely with any woman she’d seen him with. Besides, her mother’s old saying was that “men never take home the whole cow when they get free milk.” As she opened her apartment door, Brenda crinkled up her nose at that thought. It made her feel like she was supposed to have four stomachs and udders or something as ridiculous. Still, there was that fear that part of what Jamsheed liked about her was her novelty. There was no need to rush things, to tempt him to chew her up and spit her out quickly in case he wasn’t that far gone from his playboy ways after all.
It meant that after quite the delicious make-out session on the Eye, she asked politely to be dropped off at her apartment. If Jamsheed had been disappointed, then he didn’t show it. She managed, or so she hoped, to explain him that she needed the extra time to pack. He dropped her off, but only after another hot and heavy session on his lap. It killed her to leave him, but this was the best way, the only method to build a lasting relationship. Whatever was happening between them was more than lust, and they needed to let it blossom over time.
Besides, on top of everything else, he was still reeling from his father’s stroke. He needed to think through things. They would have plenty of time to explore everything in Zomelia, and even then she hoped her newfound boldness wouldn’t bite her in the ass.
She had hope. It was a dangerous thing, but also one of the most exhilarating forces on Earth.
Moving to her bedroom, Brenda slipped off her borrowed dress and hung it up, then placed it gently on the top of her bathroom doorway. She’d keep it safe and protected until she could return it to Anne the next day. After all, she owed her friend all the details of her night and a massive thank you for giving her the perfect ensemble to woo her Sheikh Charming. Similarly, she made sure the to-die-for emerald necklace was placed carefully on her dresser.
It wasn’t long before she was lying on top of her sheets in her night shirt and unable to calm herself or, her libido. Her body was still flushed with heat and beads of sweat were pooling over her skin, even though it was still fairly chilly in London. She was so desperate to cool things off that she turned on the air conditioning in her apartment, full blast. By all rights, she should have frost crystalizing in her bangs. Yet all she could feel was the roaring heat flaring through her belly and up her torso and the pounding need in her most sensitive bundle of nerves.
Trying to take things slow and be smart about all of this was easier said than done.
A fire burned through her for him, for the very feel of Jamsheed in her bed, for the scent of him, that musk mixed with that hint of turmeric and other spices. She needed him; Brenda just needed to be more sure he truly needed her back. Until then, she had other ways to slake her lust, at least for tonight. Sitting up in the bed, she pulled her shirt up over her arms and threw it halfway across her bedroom. Moonlight streamed in through the window, tracing patterns over her pale skin.
Alabaster, he called it.
That made her feel so much more beautiful than she actually was. He made her feel that way. More desirable and more amazing than she could ever be on her own. She reached out with her left hand and caressed one of her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, rolling the peaked flesh there. All the while, Brenda imagined big hands, surprisingly calloused, gripping her nipple with more forceful pressure. As she worked at her nipple, Brenda moved her right hand down to the apex of her thighs. First, she brushed over the soft thatch of hair there, something she kept well-groomed, wondering what would it feel like to have hisfingers tracing over her.
She shivered and dug her heels into the mattress. Even the thought of Jamsheed touching her left goosebumps rippling over her flesh in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with her blasting AC. Her right hand moved lower, as if guided by its own accord and mind, until it found her hidden lips. Gently, Brenda parted her folds and pressed her forefinger against her pleasure button. Her movements were slow at first, small caresses and the slightest pressure against her pearl. As she did it, the first rose over her skin, as if dancing flames licked every inch of her limbs. It was beginning to consume her.
Brenda could only keep the tempo long and languid for a bit, then her right hand met the fevered pitch of her left as she pressed more fiercely against her rose bud. But it wasn’t her hands pleasuring her, drawing her close to climax. No. It was Jamsheed’s rough fingers she felt against her, the force of him as sensitive bundle of nerves pulsed in her grasp. It wasn’t the same, of course, but it would have to do. Her own fingers could only pale in comparison to the real thing, but it was all she had for now.
Her heels dug more deeply into the mattress as she rolled back her head.
She came like a freight train, with the heat over taking her body in a swift punch of power that made her scream out her relief. Brenda shook under the onslaught and the novelty of it. She hadn’t orgasmed like that in years. The very thought of Jamsheed, the anticipation of him,made it the best climax she ever had.
It could have been hours or days until she finished. Time held little meaning when she was caught up in that much ecstasy. Still, Brenda let her boneless limbs lie heavily on the bed beneath her as she drifted off into an arousing sleep filled with amber eyes and a devilish goatee.
