Page 13 of Ditching the Dragon (Fated Dates)

In any other circumstance, with any other guy, I don’t think I’d have made it to the room at all.

I don’t usually like risks I can’t account for.

Perhaps I should be reckless more often.

Chapter Four

Sitting at the table, I finish the last of the chicken and sigh. The pan-seared breast smothered in a thick, savory sauce was the perfect choice to fill my belly without feeling stuffed.

Herby sourdough soaked up the last vestiges of the alcohol, and the rest energized my mind. I’ve ditched Wick’s jacket, but it smells like him, so I’ve left it wrapped around the dining chair’s back.

With nothing else to do, I wander into the adjacent rooms. I cross through the fanciest kitchenette I’ve ever seen, tucked into a pantry, and make my way into a large seating area.

Couches form a “U” shape around a large coffee table and a television lowered from the ceiling barking the news.

Wick is there, sitting on the damask striped couch and frowning at a laptop screen. His suspenders are off his shoulders, but the shirt hides very little of his broad chest. The outline of an undershirt peaks through. He rolled the sleeves up to the elbow, and platinum cufflinks rest on the coffee table.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

He glances up, and a slow smile spreads on his face.

“Better now. How was dinner?”

“Lonely.”

“I’m sorry. I got wrapped up in something.”

I take the laptop from his legs and set it on the coffee table. Standing in front of him, I bend a knee so the slit rides up to the junction of my thigh then nudge his shoulder so he’ll lean back.

With his knees so forward, he’s half-way reclined on the soft couch. Looking down at him, I tilt my head and give him a sly smile.

“Why, Mr. Barrett, are you in need of relaxation?”

He gives me this lazy smile that makes my muscles tighten in anticipation.

“What are you offering, gorgeous?”

The material of the dress is soft while I gather it from my legs. I straddle him on the couch, the dress bunched up and the slit now to my waist.

“Do you have any idea how stunning you are?” he hums.

“Yes, but tell me anyway.”

He chuckles while I unhook the halter clasp at the nape of my neck. I hold the fabric up with my hand to tease him.

“The way this dress hugs every inch of you is fucking divine,” he tells me.

Wick spreads wide palms over my thick thighs and hooks his fingers around my legs securely. He tugs, and it slides my knees far enough forward that my core meets the hard bulge in his pants.

Wickham squeezes my thighs then takes great handfuls of my backside.

“I love your ass. The things you make me want to do to you. I can’t wait to grip it while I fuck you from behind. Watch you shake while I take you deep.”

He uses his grip to grind me against him, and I reward him by dropping the top of my dress.

He focuses on my breasts, on the way my nipples peak under his attention and how I lean into him, and for a solid moment it seems like he never wants it to end.

My skin tingles and electric shocks pop between my legs. I arch my back to tease him a little more.

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