His hands had moved faster. His eyes had lulled closed as his head had fallen back. He’d pictured her smirk, the way she talked back to him, how good it’d feel to have her wrapped around him instead. And that had done it. His cum had sputtered out of the tip of his cock, making a mess of the floor before him and the rest trailing down his hand.
He had fallen onto the bed with a deep sigh, feeling sated. He couldn’t help but wince, however, when his eyes had met her innocent ones on the poster above.
He wanted to blame that moment on not fucking a woman in a year, but he knew the truth. This wasn’t because of just needing a woman, it was because of needingonewoman.
Emily was the point of all his desires.
His celibacy had even started because of her.
Because he couldn’t sleep with another woman anymore without imagining it was her in their places.
Simply because he’d seen her at an event the evening of and while in bed with another, his mind had started its persistence in having her one way or the other. It had imagined her lips, her thighs, hereverything, breaching the zone of a fantasy he should have never entertained, but did so anyway.
Nicolas shook what he’d done away and adjusted himself. He didn’t need her to come out of the bathroom and see him with a boner.
Control yourself.
As he went to the corner, on cue, Emily stepped out, her hair damp and dressed in purple pajamas. The color suited her. Many colors did, but this one was his favorite on her, minus white if that counted.
That was what she’d been wearing the first time they’d met, and what she’d be wearing in their wedding ceremony.
Stop. Right. There.
This was all still very much contractual. Yes, he and Emily had blurred some lines, but it didn’t change that fact.
“I told you, you can sleep in the bed with me.”
“And I told you, I’m fine.”
She frowned, watching him try to get comfortable, knowing that was impossible on the hard floor.Then she went for the blow dryer from the corner of the room near her luggage. “Can you help me plug this in? My hands are still wet.”
He got up from the floor. “There’s one in the bathroom you know,” he referred to the device.
“I know, but this causes less heat damage.”
He looked at the brand and made a mental note to have the other one replaced.
She took a seat in front of the vanity and outstretched the device. “Do you mind?”
“You want me to dry your hair?”
She nodded. “My arms are still sore from all the gardening. Don’t know why it’s not already an Olympic sport.”
He chewed the inside of his mouth. “Alright, but it’d be best to do it inside there.” He pointed to the bathroom which had a seating area.
“Yeah, you’re right. There’ll be a bit of shedding.”
He took the hair dryer from her. “I wasn’t referring to that. The seat there is padded.”
She blinked once, then twice, before her feet finally carried her after him.
Emily sat in front of the mirror, hair cascading down her back in wet waves. Nicolas stood behind her, plugged the dryer in the socket on the wall, then worked her hair.
“You’re oddly good at this.”
He smirked. “I’ve had practice.”
She turned just enough to glance at him over her shoulder. “Practice?” There was an edge to her voice. “With who?”
