The effect he had on me felt obscene.
So did my thoughts.
I knew that I needed him like I needed air. I had to have his arms around me, his lips on my lips, his fingers trailing down, igniting pleasure.
The room spun with me as I imagined things inappropriate for that gathering and the position I was in, yet nothing could stop me.
I knew even back then that he had to trace my neck with his lips and make a go for my chest, swirl his tongue around a nipple, and show me how it’s done.
How men like him make a woman go wild.
The idea of his teeth grazing my skin made me dissipate like a plume of smoke.
My mind was filthy.
It still is, but what can you expect?
I’m sure my mother delighted herself with her own dark fantasy as she contemplated spending time with husband number three in the future.
Many things have changed since then, but my obsession with him isn’t one of them.
The man didn’t play hard to get.Hewashard to get.
My mother learned that, too.
One thing changed, though. Throughout this time, I morphed into a vicious, out-of-control mafia princess, and the more he ignores me, the more vengeful I get.
I need to have him grunt and groan on top of me more than ever. I need to hear him say my name with that unmistakable nasal rasp in his voice as he pins me under him and makes me sweat.
I need to have his hips rocking and feel him slide deep into me with every thrust, until he loses himself and fully claims me.
I want him to make me feel the pain of having him and not having him at the same time.
How many times have I thought about this?
I want to get him to the point of ripping my clothes off, handling me roughly, and driving his hard-on into me like it was a hit job, the last thing he needed to do in this life.
One time.
That’s all I need.
One single time with him.
If he takes me one time…If he spreads my legs and feels the fire howling in my blood, he’ll never need another woman ever again.
Never. Ever. Period.
One time.
That’s all I need.
Having my legs locked around him, with his eyes feeding on the fire in my soul, he’ll never know anything besides me.
Panting, I enjoy the pleasure soaring through my body, and the wet arousal trickling down my legs.
Another wasted day.
Another missed opportunity.
