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My townhouse is three stories along with a completely finished basement. The backyard is miniature, but It's fine for me. My neighbors were wonderful people and the neighborhood is absolutely breathtaking.
"No, I did this all by myself. It took me a while, but I'm happy with it. You're free to look around if you like." I tell her and when she turns back to give me a bright smile I nearly return the gesture.
She walks through my dining room, commenting on the dining room table and the upright Steinway piano I have by the side wall. She looks into one of the guest bedrooms, but doesn't stay in there long enough for me to comment on anything. Finally, she ends up back in the main room where her attention lands on one of my prize possessions. Probably the only thing I have left of my father.
"That's so cool. Is it a Katana?" She asks without looking at me. She is already walking towards the display case.
"Close, but actually, it's a Jingum." I corrected her.
Her hand reaches up, but she pulls away at the last second. "A what?" She asks.
"A jingum. It's in the same family, but they have a few differences from the katana." I take a step closer to her and the mounted sword. "Do you want to hold it?" I ask, and I'm glad I made the suggestion when her cheeks drain of color and she takes a step back.
"Oh no, I couldn't. I wouldn't know how to handle that. I'd chop my hand off or something." She laughs nervously, but still doesn't take her eyes off the weapon.
The jingum belonged to my great-great-grandfather, and it's been passed down for generations. The white and tan twine handle is slightly frayed, but the steel is still in pristine shape.
"Nah, it'll be fine. I promise. Go on, grab it, I'll help you." My eyes focus on her as she squares her shoulders and reaches out for the weapon. Her hands tremble, and I hear a slight gasp as her fingers touch it.
I move in behind her and wait for her to pull the jingum down. She puts it out in front of her, but has the blade facing sideways.
"My great grandfather used this sword while he was at war. He said it was the reason he made it home at all. Of course there was some bullshit legend that went along with it, but I never paid much attention to it. Instead, all I cared about was the way it felt in my hands." I step closer behind her until her bottom barely grazes my center and I can wrap my arms around her to place my hands over hers.
I adjust the sword in both of our hands and raise it so it's in the proper position.
"I was always fascinated with the feel of calmness within the steel. This small slab of metal is full of power and deadly capability yet only through my will does it rise to its full potential." I say closer to her ear. I'd not intended for this to be sexual, but the more I talk the closer to me she gets until her back is pressed firmly against my front.
I have to bite my cheek to stifle the groan that wants to rise out of my throat. I'd had plenty of women in my lifetime but I've never felt a need as strong as I did with Marcella, for whatever reason. As I twist my hands to guides hers, I can feel her body heat against my own and it's pure fucking torture. She's so close and all I want to do is touch her more. In a move even surprising to myself, I spread my legs to get into a better position and I feel her tense, but she bends her knees so she's pressed up even tighter against me. She's so responsive, I know if I make the first move she wouldn't hesitate to follow.
The tension between us is electric and I have to fight to keep my hands firmly on hers and not wandering over her lush body. I lean my head down slightly and take a small whiff of her thick long hair. It smelled like sweet cherries, the kind you find in a warm pie. The scent is intoxicating, and it makes me just want to bury my face in her hair and breathe her in deeply.
Fuck, what is it about her.
"Have you… have you ever used it?" She asked on a stuttered whisper.
"Me? No, only for practice. My family might have enjoyed using weapons, but I'm a man who likes to use my hands. I need to have a feel of a situation, control every part of it, I don't like to leave anything to chance." I respond as she slowly began to sway her hips against mine, delivering a delicious friction against my hard cock. I'm torn between wanting to keep things on the right side of the ethical line and wanting to throw her down and take her right here on my floor.
"Kai…" She whispers haughtily and I can feel the tether on my will power starting to fray.
She's so fucking sexy.
"Marcella." I respond.
"Take it." She says, and it takes me a few seconds to figure out that she's talking about the weapon in her hand. I softly pull it from her grasp and push her forward as I return it to its display. My body towers over hers as I stretch upwards. Instead of moving away once it's in place, I stay there.
The surprised gasp that leaves her mouth when she turns around pulls a smirk to my mouth. "Tell me the truth." I say and put my hand up, so it's braced against the wall near the side of her head.
"Okay." She's gazing deep into my eyes and it takes everything in me not to say fuck it all and just kiss her.
"Did you have anything to do with those men attacking me today?"
Her eyebrows furrow and she blinks a few times, clearly not prepared for that question, "What? No. Of course not. I wouldn't ever do something like that."
"People do things they would never do all the time." I rebuff.
"Tell me about it." Her light eyes are dazed, and she focuses on my mouth.
I was fully prepared to make the first move, but Marcella has other plans. She rises on her tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine.
