“Shouldn’t you be with your nephew?” I ask her.
The clicking of her boots echoes in the room. She comes in, being careful of the mess the kids made. “Looks like you’re going to be here all night,” she teases, a bit sinister if you ask me.
“You have two hands, you could put them to work,” I mock back.
I start to gather the art supplies and put them on one table, she comes around the corner, bumping chest to chest. Her purple hair tied up in a bun with little strands framing her face, her emerald eyes holding my attention. With both hands occupied with supplies, she blocks me.
“You’re right. I do have two hands that work,” she says seductively. Her presence alone makes my dick hard. But her voice and the way she looks at me pushes me over the edge, that would drive a man wild.
Her hands trail along my side, the lightest of touch sends my mind spiraling. Before I know it, she cups my dick.Shit.
She doesn’t squeeze hard, but enough pressure to beg for more. Her feathery touch continues as she caresses up and down my seam of my pants. Her hands drop lower, gravitating towards my balls. “I know exactly how to use them,” she says, standing on her toes to inch closer and closer.
I press against her hand, “Not very nice, angel.” I growl out. If she wants something, she knows how to get it. She may have hated me in the beginning but that’s what gives her an edge, the power.
She steps back and sashed away. I get a nice view of her plump ass, swaying back and forth. “Never said I was nice,” she says sensually.
“You’re just going to leave me here?” I yell out, slamming down the supplies, running after her.
“Oh, so you do know how it feels?” She says sarcastically. She jumps out of the way of me charging after her. “It sucks to be left wanting and in need,” she circles around the table, as I trail after her.
If. No,whenI get my hands on her, it’s over. As much as we annoy, pester, and even fluster each other, I will make hermine.
“Did you want something more?” I ask her, stepping closer and closer to her. She braces herself along a table. “Good girls use their words,” I say.
“It’s not polite to practically fuck someone in public, and not let her finish,” she growls.
The light bulb went off, she isn’t just upset about today, but she’s still on edge from the library.Oh little angelface. I think it’s time we cut the games.
She doesn't move as I continue to close the gap between us. She doesn’t run anymore.
“Charlotte,” I tease, “Do you want me to finish what we started?”
She gulps, her chest heaving, fighting to stabilize her heart racing. We’re inches away, I reach towards her blouse, slowly unbuttoning her top. “I would be happy to oblige,” I lean forward, pressing our bodies together. I don’t believe that people can fit into each other, but I’d make a liar out of myself.
Her body nestles in between the spaces of mine. I lightly ghost my lips above her, “Tell me what you want.”
Her breath smells like spearmint, simple, delicious. She jerks forward to try to kiss me, I pull back and chuckle. “Eager, little thing. You know what to say,” I taunt her.
There’s fury in her eyes and if you look close enough there’s blazing wings behind her. “Keola,” she whimpers out, “Finish what you fucking started.”
Our chests close together, she hasn’t said what I need her to say, her eyes soften with need.
“Please,” she whimpers out.
I brush whatever is on the table, the clattering of things falling to the floor and gasps fills the room. I lift her under her ass and lay her down on the messy table, guaranteeing that there is paint on her back. I pop the last button and push the shirt, tossing it across the room, she goes to reach for me.
I smack her hand away, “No.”
“But,” she starts to whisper out.
“Little angel, this is what you wanted,” I reminded her. She pouts like a little brat, tempting me to reach over and nibble on that bottom lip. I grind against her, already hard as a fucking rock, to the point of pain. She arches her back, I glide my hand down her smooth skin, looking at every tattoo that has been hidden from me. Every vine that traces her muscles. The night sky that is painted on her skin, with a bright star to the right, just above her breast.
“I’m not going to make it, if you don’t start,” she snarls out.
“Oh, but I think you can,” I bent over, capturing her lips with mine before she could say anything more. She’s not the one in charge here. She tastes as sweet as I remember from the library. I swallow every moan, every whine.
I reach between us and snap the button of her pants off, snaking my hand down her panties. Her hair brushes up against my hands, she’s not completely bare and that is perfect for me. Not even a centimeter down, Charlotte is soaking.
