‘Mine’…?

Am I his…?

I think I am….

He waits, saying nothing.

Waiting for my reaction?

Yes, I think so.

Biting my lower lip, I cup my breasts in my hands, lifting them, thumbing my nipples, pressing them together to exhibit my cleavage.

His eyes follow my movements. He’s keeping his cool, but I think I see the press of his erection showing. As I circle the darker halos of the areolae, the skin crinkles tighter and his pupils, widening, turn his already shadowed eyes all but black.

“Enough,” he says. My hands freeze in mid-movement.

His eyes lock with mine, then indicate down.

“You want me to….?”

“Show me.”

the top of my panties, his eyes tracking the movement. “Take

and my panties are hideously uncomfortable. I strip them away to reveal my dark curls, glistening wet. Uncertainly, I run my fingers through the moist hair. I can scent my

course, so can

his glass from the side table, tasting the wine, a deep velvet crimson in the dim

he says. “I want more than that. Lie back. Open your legs. Show me all

My breath catches again.

covers but laid out so flat, I’m

head and shoulders,” he says. “I want you to be able to move. And I want to see your face as

to the coarse words. They should offend me, but instead, I

the eye again. Perspiration runs down my face and I’m sure that my mascara

“Show me what you want me to do to you;

hand. He sips at it, watching me

want to know you. I want to see you.”

parted, but he nudges at first one, then the other with the glass, easing them wider. “Show me,”

me, but instead, he sits beside me on the bed, close enough that I scent him. He smells of musk and

am able. His lips don’t move, but his eyes smile as they travel from my face to my pink and parted

says. “Show me, and I’ll give you everything

my swollen, almost melting folds

spot. Show me what you

thumb away the hood of my

you are, aroused like that. I can see that you’re embarrassed, but please don’t

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