awful.” I spit it out into my napkin.
“Oh thank fuck.” He giggles.
“Do you not miss it… food?”
He takes a sip of his wine. “No. It was strange at first, not eating, but it’s one less thing to worry about.”
“What about everything else?” I lean over the table. “Like the clothes and the music. You seem relatively up to date with everything.”
“I definitely do not miss the clothes: itchy, smelly, damp, and dirty,” he frowns. “And the music, well, I’ll listen to anything, and whatever year it is, that just seems to flow with the present time. Can we please change the subject?” He gazes under his brow, annoyed. “It’s a lost period for me. I’m with you now, and I really don’t wish to discuss it.”
Oh crap, I thought it was a good conversation topic. When I was living at Cates and stayed with him, what did we talk about then? Hmm, that’s right Liz, you didn’t talk of much, you were too busy, getting busy .
“All I’m saying is, this is our time.” He takes my hand and stands up from the table. “This is all I want to think of… Dance with me.” He pulls me up to my feet and coils me into his arms, fast like a yoyo.
I rest my head on his chest. Goose-pimples travel down my spine as we sway body to body to the sound of Justin Timberlake’s, Mirrors. Each beat he leads perfectly. His back slinks in time, and I can’t help but caress his supple firm curves with my fingertips.
“It never occurred to me,” he breathes in my ear. “When I came here to take over, that what I am would become irrelevant.” I brush my cheek against his chest, thinking how sublime this all is.
Suddenly, he lifts me high, spinning me around playfully before carefully placing me back down onto the floor.
“Now.” He fingers my fringe aside, and like always I swiftly sweep it back. “I still have that very difficult issue to deal with.” His lips press, deviously. “The one I messaged you about earlier.”
Oh my, I shouldn’t be looking, but my view has fallen down to his crotch. It’s extremely bad of me, especially when I’m trying to be the demure dance partner. I redden and heat, gradually gazing up to his eyes. He seems to like the fact my view was drawn to his downstairs area. His jaw is doing that sexy tense grind, which tells me he’s horny as hell.
“The hard problem?” I say, daringly.
“Yes,” he almost growls.
He lifts me aggressively so my legs lock and link tight above his hipbone. He’s kissing me ferociously. Animal like. Primal. God, I freaking love how strong he is. He cradles my ass and carries me, while avidly devouring the sensitive skin on my neck. I sigh high with delight.
My arms are wrapped behind his head. He’s looking intensely into my needy frantic eyes. I swallow to try and rid the hard knot in my throat, but it doesn’t work. I’m like a wound-up toy in his arms, and I need unwinding. I want to be twisted, turned, and manipulated for pleasure. I want to be unravelled from deep within, and feel his power inside of me.
He bends and lies me on the white couch, standing over me as I grip the cushions above my head, gasping for him. He stoops over the arm and I splay my legs wide for him. His knees slowly land between my thighs, and his presence makes me leak painfully in my panties. His eyes, oh they’re so hungry, more ravenous than usual. I let out a moan as his fingers brush over my sex.
“So Elizabeth, are you prepared to make this home; you know what we must do don’t you?” Wow, he’s so unyielding tonight.
“The room christening?” I utter, all squirmy and hot.
He lowers, wetting my lips with his, then presses his head upon mine, firm.
“And do you have the stamina?”
“Yes,” I say, nearly choking.
He’s kissing me again, greedily, and I am too turned on right now to wait. He pulls at my waistline and my desperate fingers help him to release me. His index finger runs firm under my shirt. Fuck, he’s just ripped it apart
“Oh thank fuck.” He giggles.
“Do you not miss it… food?”
He takes a sip of his wine. “No. It was strange at first, not eating, but it’s one less thing to worry about.”
“What about everything else?” I lean over the table. “Like the clothes and the music. You seem relatively up to date with everything.”
“I definitely do not miss the clothes: itchy, smelly, damp, and dirty,” he frowns. “And the music, well, I’ll listen to anything, and whatever year it is, that just seems to flow with the present time. Can we please change the subject?” He gazes under his brow, annoyed. “It’s a lost period for me. I’m with you now, and I really don’t wish to discuss it.”
Oh crap, I thought it was a good conversation topic. When I was living at Cates and stayed with him, what did we talk about then? Hmm, that’s right Liz, you didn’t talk of much, you were too busy, getting busy .
“All I’m saying is, this is our time.” He takes my hand and stands up from the table. “This is all I want to think of… Dance with me.” He pulls me up to my feet and coils me into his arms, fast like a yoyo.
I rest my head on his chest. Goose-pimples travel down my spine as we sway body to body to the sound of Justin Timberlake’s, Mirrors. Each beat he leads perfectly. His back slinks in time, and I can’t help but caress his supple firm curves with my fingertips.
“It never occurred to me,” he breathes in my ear. “When I came here to take over, that what I am would become irrelevant.” I brush my cheek against his chest, thinking how sublime this all is.
Suddenly, he lifts me high, spinning me around playfully before carefully placing me back down onto the floor.
“Now.” He fingers my fringe aside, and like always I swiftly sweep it back. “I still have that very difficult issue to deal with.” His lips press, deviously. “The one I messaged you about earlier.”
Oh my, I shouldn’t be looking, but my view has fallen down to his crotch. It’s extremely bad of me, especially when I’m trying to be the demure dance partner. I redden and heat, gradually gazing up to his eyes. He seems to like the fact my view was drawn to his downstairs area. His jaw is doing that sexy tense grind, which tells me he’s horny as hell.
“The hard problem?” I say, daringly.
“Yes,” he almost growls.
He lifts me aggressively so my legs lock and link tight above his hipbone. He’s kissing me ferociously. Animal like. Primal. God, I freaking love how strong he is. He cradles my ass and carries me, while avidly devouring the sensitive skin on my neck. I sigh high with delight.
My arms are wrapped behind his head. He’s looking intensely into my needy frantic eyes. I swallow to try and rid the hard knot in my throat, but it doesn’t work. I’m like a wound-up toy in his arms, and I need unwinding. I want to be twisted, turned, and manipulated for pleasure. I want to be unravelled from deep within, and feel his power inside of me.
He bends and lies me on the white couch, standing over me as I grip the cushions above my head, gasping for him. He stoops over the arm and I splay my legs wide for him. His knees slowly land between my thighs, and his presence makes me leak painfully in my panties. His eyes, oh they’re so hungry, more ravenous than usual. I let out a moan as his fingers brush over my sex.
“So Elizabeth, are you prepared to make this home; you know what we must do don’t you?” Wow, he’s so unyielding tonight.
“The room christening?” I utter, all squirmy and hot.
He lowers, wetting my lips with his, then presses his head upon mine, firm.
“And do you have the stamina?”
“Yes,” I say, nearly choking.
He’s kissing me again, greedily, and I am too turned on right now to wait. He pulls at my waistline and my desperate fingers help him to release me. His index finger runs firm under my shirt. Fuck, he’s just ripped it apart
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