As I watch, he lifts it to his nose and inhales deeply, eyes closing like he’s smelling the best damn thing in the world. Then he tucks the lace into his pocket and winks before disappearing out of the gym. The whole thing takes seconds, and I feel like I’m spinning.
“We need to get to the office early this morning,” Meynard says. “Get ready.”
There’s no room for argument, and there’s no point in telling him that I didn’t actually get a chance to work out. At least not in the way that he’s thinking. So I gather my mat and everything else, and I follow him back to the apartment.
I’m not at all thinking about my missing panties or what he might do with them.
Nope.
Not at all.
6
Kris
I make it to my apartment before they appear in the hall. They’re probably only seconds behind me, but I don’t want to be seen at the moment. I’m barely holding on as it is.
The fact that Meynard dislikes me enough not to look too closely is a good thing. Because one glance and he would have been able to tell exactly just how much I want his niece. I’m so fucking hard that I can’t breathe.
Damn it to hell, I’m not going to make it all the way to the shower. I don’t even make it past the entryway before I’m dragging my shorts down around my thighs and grabbing my cock.
But not before grabbing that fucking piece of lace that’s driving me absolutely crazy. Chianna is turning all of my self-control into dust. When I saw this thong on her, I nearly came in my pants. There’s nothing that I love more than a wet woman in lace. The way you can see the glistening arousal through it, like a perfect gift waiting to be unwrapped—holy fuck, it’s making me want to go to her door and drag her here to ravish her again, Meynard be damned.
Oh fuck.
The images are spiraling through my head. I can’t stop them. And the way that Chianna looked at me when I told her that I took my pleasure from her, tells me that she doesn’t want me to.
I force myself to slow down. Strokes that are good enough to make me go over the edge, but I’m going to hold it as long as I possibly can. I want to savor this. The rough edges of the lace scrape along my cock with just enough sensation to make it that much better. And man, I cannot wait to take her further.
But even just tasting her again would be enough. Chianna tastes almost fruity. Frankly, better than any wine that I’ve tasted. If I tell her that, she’ll blush that shade of red that I’ve already learned is her tell for arousal. All the more reason to tell her.
I love her when she’s flushed and panting just for me.
A virgin.
Brand new pleasure spikes through me, all the way from my balls to my skull. A virgin. I’m going to make sure that I’m her first everything. No matter what. Every fantasy of hers and mine. It doesn’t matter what she wants, I’ll give it to her.
I’ll paint a picture for her, giving her ideas about all the things we could do together.
In my mind I see her in my bed, hands and feet tied to the posts, writhing as I make her come over and over again. I imagine what I told her I wanted—fucking her breasts and teasing her mouth with my cock until I come across that sweet tongue. And make her swallow it.
Fuck.
I pull my orgasm right back from the edge. No. Not yet. I need more of this, and her.
Chianna’s on her knees in front of me, bright red lipstick on that gorgeous mouth. She’s grinning up at me like that’s the only place that she wants to be. I groan in my mind and in real life when I envision her taking me deep and drawing back, painting my dick red with her lips. And then deeper still, until there’s none of my cock left. It’s all in her throat.
Virgin.
She won’t be able to do that yet. But if she has any interest at all, I’ll gladly help her learn. Chianna’s body is a blank canvas and I cannot wait to help her paint it with brand new experiences.
And that’s when I see her as she was today. Sexy and sweating. Sprawled on the floor. I imagine her just like that, but in my bed. Slowly, I undress her. This time I don’t leave anything on her skin. She’s bare before me and looking up with those fucking gorgeous green eyes, and she’s all mine.
Her breath is short. She’s nervous for this, but ready. I can see how wet she is. Feel is with my fingers first, and then my tongue. I make her come twice before I even think about taking her—wait until she’s a fucking puddle on the sheets.
And then I push in. Will she be as tight as I imagine? Will she give me that little gasp that I crave?
Curses fly out of me, and I come. I can’t hold it any longer, lightning blazing down my spine and through my cock. It’s blindingly bright and so damn good I can barely keep stroking my cock through the pleasure. But I know that this won’t be a sliver of what I feel when I do actually take her.
I spill everything I have onto that damn thong between my fingers. It feels like I’m claiming her. Marking her as mine even though she’s not here. And hell, I like that thought. I want to claim her as mine. Only a day and I already want to make sure that she never touches anyone else.
Down deep, where that animal instinct lies, I know that she’s mine. The sooner I see her again, the better. Because I have a feeling that she knows that she’s mine too. She just has to tell me.
I would never force her. But when she says yes? It’ll be a whole new world for both of us. A world where I taste that exquisite pussy every day. I’ll become a connoisseur of the way she tastes and make her blush in the process. I’ll memorize her body so that I know exactly how to make her come whenever she wants—and whenever I want.
Suddenly I realize that I’m still leaning against my closed front door, heaving breath with my cock in my hand. I need to get ready for work. I don’t care if it’s early—the sooner I get to the office, the sooner I can see Chianna.
There is work I have to do today, but I already know that she’s the thing that’s really going to be dominating my thoughts. My proposal is excellent. And it’s already mostly done. It’s just down to the details now.
I’m going to win. It’s just a feeling in my gut, but I’m rarely wrong. Just like I have the feeling about a young woman who’s dancing through my thoughts.
It takes everything in my power not to jerk off again once I finally make it to the shower. God, I want to. But another orgasm right now and I might have to go back to fucking bed after getting so little sleep.
Everything that I do to get ready, I do for her. I pick clothes I know look good, and make sure everything is perfect. To me, it doesn’t matter if we’re at the office. I want her fucking drooling over me.
As I gather my briefcase and other things, I hear voices in the hall. It sounds like Meynard, the bastard. I wish that Chianna wasn’t his niece. It would make things easier. And it would also explain how they seem so different. Meynard is a scheming snake. Chianna seems like anything but. Her face is so easy to read that it might as well be an open book.
I step out into the hallway, and it is him. With Chianna. Just like last night, she’s loaded down with office supplies. Two boxes stacked perilously on top of each other, and the bulletin board tucked beneath her arm—though it looks like that might drop at any moment.