“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks softly as his rough fingertips caress the skin on my arm.
I lean against his chest, my breath quickening. He runs the same hand over my breast and belly, right there in the middle of the room where anyone can walk in, tugging me against his erection. I grind against him, and he turns me so we’re face to face. We’re too close, each breath mingling into the others until we’re one entity. My brain tells me this is all wrong, but when his lips touch mine, firm but soft, I reach up and wrap a hand around his neck, lacing it through his hair, and deepening the kiss.
He breaks the kiss, only to lead me to an opening at the back of the tent. He pushes me until the cool wall of the gallery presses against my back. I gasp, and his lips are on mine again, kissing, sucking, biting. He’s ferocious and demanding and I’m on fire, tugging onto his shirt to ground myself and pull him closer. The thrill of being here, in a room full of people while nobody knows what we’re doing, makes my stomach clench. He’s groaning, and his hands slip under my dress, gripping my ass so hard, I know it’ll leave a mark.
He slips his hand into my panties, forcing me to spread my legs.
“Shh,” he whispers at my moan then slips a finger inside me, circling my clit until I’m panting.
“Eliana? I thought I saw her come in here.” Marsha’s voice makes my eyes wide. He grins down at me pinching against my clit until I’m writhing in an orgasm biting his shoulder to keep from screaming. He removes his hands from my underwear, licking his fingers. “Tasty,” he whispers against my earlobe, causing goosebumps to spread over my flesh. He steps away winking. “You fuck with my reasoning, Eliana.”
I want to fuck with more than that, I think to myself.
I straighten my dress, and he takes my hand, leading me back. My face is on fire when I locate the ladies, to thank them for the evening, and tell them we’re leaving.
* * *
Sleep evades me when I climb into bed. The cold shower I had when I got home did nothing to satiate me. With the exception of an abrupt goodnight, Braxton hasn’t said a word to me since we got back from the gallery. When the desire becomes too much to bear, I slip my hands into my underwear and circle my clit with a finger, fantasizing about fucking Braxton Hayes, until I orgasm, calling his name.
