Very rarely is he innocent, no matter how much he turns up that boyish charm of his.
The man is pure filth.
As are the words that come pouring out of his mouth next.
“I just want to let you know the feeling is very much mutual, Giselle.” I feel his semi-hard length graze the curve of my arse. “I wanna see you naked and dripping on my bed. Those bendy legs of yours spread wide, your sweet pussy split in half, creaming around my cock… but I’m trying to be a gentleman here. To show you there’s more to me than just fucking. To show you I want more of you than just your body. I want your sense of humour and your wicked competitive streak. I want your personality and the soft side of you that you hide away. I want it all Giselle and you’re going to give it to me before we fuck, so you know what we have between us is true. So, you know I’m not messing around.”
I’m left breathless, the apples of my cheeks warm with a blush, as Hudson steps away, pressing our drinks into my clammy palms and taking his turn on the golf course.
Shifting on my heels, I take another sip of my cocktail, the warmth of the alcohol only adding to the giddy, weightless feeling dancing through my body, from my fingertips down to my toes.
Just when I thought Hudson Millen couldn’t get anymore attractive, he goes and says things like that. It makes my heart thrum a little bit faster in my chest to know he’s been listening; taking on board the things that are important to me.
I only hope that I can do the same for him.
Hudson’s ball flies through the air, landing with a small thump onto the fake turf and rolling until it’s nestled behind my golf ball.
“Unlucky,” I quip, not even attempting to hold back my grin.
“I don’t know what you’re smiling about, Gee,” Hudson taunts, stepping up toe to toe with me until my breasts are brushing up against his chest and he can peer down his nose at me. “I’m a Millen and Millen’s don’t lose.”
I wrinkle up my nose in faux annoyance. “Sure, they don’t.”
“You’ll learn soon enough… after I’ve eaten you alive.”
Chapter 23
Hudson
“Are we still talking about the game?” Giselle asks so sweetly, making the back of my teeth ache.
I smile, showing her my pearly white teeth. If I try hard enough, I can recall the phantom taste of her on my tongue. It’s enough to satiate me.
For now.
“Obviously,” I answer, ignoring the kick of my cock in my trousers. “Get your head out of the gutter, Giselle.”
The narrowing of her eyes, paired with the grin on her lips, is nothing short of feral.
I’ve started something here and I’m more than intrigued to see what Giselle will do next.
I wait for a barbed insult, maybe even something a little tongue in cheek, but when she stays silent, eyes firmly on me, her throat bobbing delicately with a swallow of her coffee flavoured cocktail, I feel my blood rise even further to the surface.
My balls ache, the base of my cock throbbing in protest, practically begging me to fit inside of her. To feel the tight, wet squeeze of her around me, milking me dry
This competitive foreplay we have going on between us – this push and pull and push again, that’s been sparking between us since day one – only serving to turn me on until I can barely think straight.
Giselle has me snared hook, line and sinker.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“What, no come back?” I can’t help but push, relishing in the way her spine straightens even further.
I watch as Giselle’s slim fingers tighten around the circumference of her golf club, before she tips forward, pressing her chest into mine until I have to grab onto her waist to stop us both from toppling over.
“You want to be careful I don’t eatyoualive first,” she whispers in my ear, leaving behind a smear of the gloss which coats her lips enticingly, marking me, and then stepping away to take her second shot as if nothing is out of the ordinary.
As if she hasn’t just sent a fresh rush of blood to my already hard cock, as if she hasn’t wound me up tight like a drum.
