My throat grew dry and slowly, I leaned forward. I knew as soon as I did, he would see my ass cheeks and the plain white panties I was wearing. He’d see the wet spot between my legs.
“I don’t have any fancy undergarments,” I said, mortified that he’d see me in plain underwear.
“I don’t care about your clothes, sweetheart; I care about what’s underneath them,” he said, his voice full of confidence that made me even wetter.
He didn’t move for a moment, but I heard him humming to himself.
“You’re wet for me, Juliette, and I haven’t even touched you,” he whispered and I jerked when I felt his pant legs brush against the back of mine. Too close. I groaned, twisting my head to try and catch his expression. “Don’t move.”
I froze, gritting my teeth.
“Did you get aroused by us talking? By kneeling for me?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my thighs wanting to shut and stop the throb between them.
“Juliette,” he whispered. His body shifted closer and I felt a large, warm hand travel from the back of my neck, down the expanse of my back, over my skirt, and to my bare legs. “Answer the question.”
“Yes,” I gasped out.
His palm ran up along my bare leg, fingertips caressing me over my panties for a brief second before he flipped up my skirt. I bit my lip, stopping a moan before it could escape.
“You always wore skirts when you worked at the library. Flimsy, black skirts that danced around your thighs. Such a tease, always such a tease,” he tsked, his voice low and rumbling in his chest as his fingers edged closer to my aching core once more. When they traced along my underwear line, I arched back against him, feeling his large erection against my ass.
“They weren’t racy,” I fought back. “Just black skirts.”
“Simple. Elegant. Nothing that should’ve turned me on, but they did. Seeing the fabric dance around your thighs, threatening to expose you at any moment…” His free hand crept around my hip and held it, his fingers digging into the hip bone. “And when you bent down to search the lowest shelves for books…your long, toned legs bare, I wanted to bite your thighs.”
I heard the rustle of fabric behind me, the warmth of his legs disappearing. Then, I felt a sharp bite on my inner thigh accompanied by a deep growl, seconds before a tongue came out to soothe the bite away.
I moaned against the couch, the erotic touch of his tongue making me damp and needy and all his.
But as much as I hated to admit it, it wasn’t just Nathaniel’s touch that turned me on, in fact, he’d barely touched me. His words, his words alone had the power to ignite me.
His golden words.
His mind had aroused mine even before his body had.
Another thing I hated to admit: I loved his voice. I loved and hated the way he spoke so calmly, his voice suave and seductive, never wavering. There was always a glint in his eyes as he used words to strip his opponent down to nothing.
His warm breath teased me over my panties and then disappeared just as quickly.
Nathaniel hooked his fingers around my panties and began to slide them down my thighs, my arousal now fully exposed to him.
He hummed appreciatively and I jerked when a finger teased me. Caressing each lip, but never quite touching where I needed it most. Within seconds of his merciless teasing, I was breathy and agitated and too aroused to function, rolling my head back and forth.
“Stop teasing me,” I hissed into the pristine cushions.
“Tell me why I should,” he said and his own voice betrayed him for a moment, showing how aroused he was. Dark and low and husky.
His hand palmed me but applied no pressure and I growled. “I’m not arguing with you now.”
“Tell me why I should fill you with my cock,” he continued and I rolled my head back, moaning when one of his fingers finally edged in my opening.
“Because…” I paused, trying to catch my breath and my dignity. But my dignity was long gone now. “You know fucking me will make you come harder than ever before.”
His breathing grew heavy and he twisted his finger deeper. “Tell me more.”
“I’ll let you do whatever you want. I’ll let you be in control,” I whispered.
He added another finger and I winced. “Good?”
I nodded, biting my bottom lip as he worked his fingers in deeper.
He was knuckle-deep inside of me now and I rocked shamelessly against his strokes. The sound of my own wetness, so blatantly obvious and dirty, didn’t even faze me. I was passed the point of caring.
I heard his zipper and when his breathing turned husky, I knew he was stroking himself.
A long, strong finger appeared at my lips, and he growled huskily, “Open.”
I did, and his finger slid in, the salty taste of his precum on my tongue.
“Close,” he rasped. My lips closed and I sucked hard, tongue swirling around his finger to catch every drop of his taste. His thumb pressed down on my clit in reward, and my hips bucked.
“You’re being such a good girl, Juliette. So pliant to my desires and demands.”
He took his wet finger out of my mouth, thumb lightly caressing along my jaw before his hand disappeared behind me once more.
“You know, I used to imagine cornering you against a bookshelf in the library and taking you…like this, exposed and raw and with no restraint,” he hissed through his teeth. “Do you want me to take you, Juliette? Do you want to know what I feel like inside of you?”
He flicked my clit and a breathy moan ripped through me.
He was already inside of me.
Consuming me.
Burning me.
He had been for years and now I was laid out in front of him to feast on.
“Yes,” I breathed out.
I heard the tear of foil and him shuffling, but then he paused. “I’m clean. Are you on the pill?”
I nodded, my chest rising up and down rapidly.
“Raw then. Nothing but our skin,” he whispered.
I didn’t want to tell him that I had never had anyone bare inside of me. It would just go to his head and further his ego.
Then I felt his blunt head at my entrance and my nails dug deep into the cushions.
One hand gripped my hip while the other one held his length, slowly pressing deeper and deeper inside of me.
When he bottomed out at my cervix, I gasped and I heard him grit his teeth.
“It’s been a long time coming, Juliette. Us, this, my cock filling you up so good. Finally, we’re dealing with this energy between us,” he said as his cock slid out slowly before slamming back in, holding nothing back. My body rocked forward against the couch, hips digging into the fabric.
Then, he started slow, measured strokes and I wished I could see his ass, flexing as he took me.
“You’re so wet, so close,” he whispered and he was right. “All I had to do was arouse you with my words and you became undone.”
I arched my back, fighting against him. I wasn’t going to just let him use me; I was going to earn my own climax myself.
I glanced back at him, seeing his eyes narrowed and dark and heated, sweat beading on his thick brows wrinkled into a scowl.
He let a smirk kiss his mouth when I looked back at him. Cocky as ever.
But he must have caught my own fierce expression because he quickened his strokes, his hand sliding down my stomach and finding my core, strumming me.
I felt it approaching, the hot, dizzy spell taking over me and I dug my nails into his arms, hoping to draw blood. Because this was a battle. A war between sworn enemies.
I came first, the energy filling every limb of my body. On a war cry, he pulled out, spraying his cum across my ass and down my legs, jerking ruthlessly against me.
He stroked my quivering slit one last time, mixing his cum with my own wetness. “No more—I can’t.”
He laughed darkly behind me and when I almost collapsed on the couch, his arm held me up, turning me around so we finally faced each other. I was trapped against his sweaty torso.
Both our heaving chests warred against the other and I caught my breath.
In the darkness, I saw Nathaniel Radcliffe’s rare smile. His white teeth bright and straight. The smile of a winner, someone who got exactly what they wanted.
I hated to admit it, but that had been the best sex of my life.
After another two rounds, I collapsed against the white sheets of his bed and told myself I’d get up in a minute.