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We’re in a dark room, unlike the others I’ve visited in my dreams before, yet the dangerous edge lingers. Surrounds me. The sole source of light is coming from a fireplace, the roaring fire contrasting—casting a hedonistic glow that dances across the dark walls in an array of orange and red, the tones alight with teasing.
It’s warm in here. A comforting difference to other times when fear consumed my every limb. Instead, I’m being held against my will by his lips. By the reverence in which they skim my skin. Taste me.
“Please?” A plea—a truth that exposes my desperate need, and I cry out when a large hand grips my asscheek, squeezing to the point of pain. The feeling reverberates through my senses like a tsunami, and I beg for more. For anything he can do. “I need you.”
My hips undulate, seeking that which is being denied, and I sigh when a lone finger parts my labia, stroking through my wetness until slipping into my clenching little hole. “It hurts when you don’t touch me.”
“I’ll always be here, Gabriella.” Fingertips dance across my neck, a light touch, and my eyes snap open at the sudden change. Theodore is gazing at me from our position on the couch—we’re lying pressed against the other with my core clenching each time he roughly exhales. I can’t stop it. I can’t ignore this need burning me from the inside while his stare is heated—hungry. I’m still feeling the last dredges of my dream flow through, but now they merge with the desire pooling for this man. It’s confusing. Overwhelming. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Heat floods my cheeks, my mouth dry while I can’t help but look from his rich amber orbs to his lips and back again. “Sorry.”
“Don’t.” His gravelly tone settles across my sensitive skin and instinctively, I arch against his hold, those strong arms tightening. We’re fully lying down now in the darkened room, the TV app’s are you still there question the only lighting source, and yet it’s as if the room was bathed in pure white light. There’s a heavy current traveling between us, maybe a carry-over from my dream as I look at him, my stare unable to hide my want.
I’m also unable to avoid the raw desire in his.
Theodore’s eyes are hooded, his pink tongue swiping across his bottom lip while he does the same thing I do. Watch. Wait. However, it’s the flex of his length against my core that breaks me.
He’s big. Thick. And the feel of him right there makes me whimper, my mouth immediately searching out his.
“Gabriella.” It’s a heavy grunt, a warning. “Sweetheart, are you sure?”
“Please.”
“Please what?” Fingertips dig into my hips, holding me in place while I peck his lips between unnecessary words. “Tell me what you need.”
“Touch me.”
“Fuck.” It’s a rough exhale, his own truth and need coming clear across the one-word response. With the hand not on my hip, Theodore lifts my chin a little more. I’m breathing in his every exhale. “Say it again. I need to hear it.”
“I need you to touch me.” The last word hasn’t passed through my lips when his mouth crashes down on mine. His kiss is almost punishing, and I feel the same. Reckless. Wild. Home. I’m clinging to him, tongue intertwining as my nails rake down his scalp, fisting the soft strands at the nape. “Please, Theo. Give me what I need.”
“My beautiful girl.” And then I’m under him, my body pinned beneath his muscled form. I’m the softness to his harsher planes, a complete opposite, and yet my curves mold to him. I’m pliant and needy and spread my thighs to accommodate his hips.
They flex against mine, his cock rubbing along the sensitive flesh trembling for him.
Lust is a powerful emotion and I’m drowning, overcome with a need so overwhelming that he shivers. His hands tremble as he cups my cheek with one hand and the other tugs my shorts off. They’re tossed somewhere behind me with my tank following a few seconds after, the sound of a picture frame falling only serving to heighten my excitement.
Theodore looks down my body in adoration. “Motherfucking perfect,” he hisses out, sitting back on his knees so he can palm himself through his jeans. The way he squeezes is rough, almost brutal, while I lay panting in nothing but a nude mesh bra and panty set. Nipples hard. Pussy wet. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long. At my mercy.”
“How long?”
“Since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” No elaboration, and I don’t know if he means my picture or the cafe, but at this moment it doesn’t change the palpable heat between us. “You’re all I think about, Gabriella.” Leaning forward, he holds himself up by one arm, careful not to crush me even though all I want is to feel him. All of him. “You’re all I want in this life.”
“Isn’t it soon?” The question slips without conscious thought and I bite my lip, hoping I didn’t ruin the moment.
“Never.” Those amber orbs traverse my body, lingering on my breasts and pebbled little tips before straying to the juncture of my thighs. There, he exhales roughly—nose flaring while taking my hips in his grasp, holding tight. Blunt fingernails dig in, a slight tinge of pain running through me, but I find myself attracted to the feeling.
To the way it settles in my core, causing me to clench with need.
And he sees this. All of me.
Neither of us talks. Words aren’t needed, but I do give him a nod. My permission to take and own. It’s my surrender, and with a growled fuck Theodore tugs at the two small strings holding my panties in place, tearing the flimsy fabric clean off.
They dig in, marking my skin in the most delicious way, and I can’t help the whimper that escapes nor the rise of my hips in offering. An offering he caresses with the tips of two fingers, spreading my wetness around while lowering his face to my chest.
He’s not removing my bra, rather flicking his tongue over the sheer material that hides nothing from him, earning a hiss from me. “Something wrong, Miss Moore?”
“No,” I whimper, voice shaky. “Just feeling very needy.”
