Page 95 of Hawthorne

“My mother isn’t enough reason?”

I wish I could say it isn’t, but obviously it is. Hopefully, I can steer clear of her as much as possible, which won’t be much.

“It’ll be alright tonight. I’ll be out of your way, and I did stick to the menu she demanded. Today it’s yourfavourite food,” I tease him playfully.

“I don’t think having you naked and sprawled in the middle of the dining table is wise tonight, love.”

I giggle like a schoolgirl, at his crude words.

After what happened in that storage room, I decided never to see him again. That was, of course, until he showed up in my hotel room, begging for forgiveness. It changed everything that night.

We may not have confessed feelings for each other, and I am not certain we ever will, but our bodies have shown it. All the things he said he liked about me and how I deserve everything, the way he held me and cherished me.

We’ve been closer ever since.

His hand trails my blouse at first, playing with the hem for a few seconds before sliding underneath. His pads caress my skin and slowly raise until they reach my bra.

“You wish,” I answer. “Meatloaf’s the main dish tonight.”

“Oh, no,” he groans, even though it sounds more like a moan than anything else. His fingers dig underneath my bra as well, cupping my breast. My breath hitches, and a tightness grows in my core.

Every graze and touch this man provides is enough to affect me, to alter my brain with all these hormones that threaten my judgement with a good time.

“And here I was excited about the marvellous dishes you were going to serve us tonight.” He snickers against my skin, but I can feel the stretch of his lips in what I imagine to be a wicked smile.

“Vincent,” I warn him. “Someone could knock.” He hums in agreement, but his hand starts to wander, going back down.

“I can hide in the closet,” he finally answers, disregarding my warning.

“Your mother will be here at any moment,” I try again. My voice has a shaky edge to it, but I don’t attempt to stop him. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

He reaches the hem of my pants and proceeds to do the same as he did with my blouse. A gasp escapes me the moment he reaches my core.

“Then we’ll have to be quick and quiet.”

It’s euphoric.Nothing like I’ve ever felt before.

It’s like Vincent can cripple me with a single kiss, a single touch or a breath. As his fingers slowly start to work my clit, I can’t help but let my body fall even further into him. It makes my legs weak, but Vincent’s hold is strong enough to keep me upright.

“Oh, god,” I moan.

“It’s my name I want to hear,little Milla, not god’s.”

“I...thought...you wanted...me to...be quiet.” Vincent’s chuckle only adds to the arousal and excitement of the moment.

“I always want you to scream my name,” he groans against my neck, nipping at it. “But you said so yourself; someone could knock and listen.”

His momentum speeds, making my legs tremble. While one is working relentlessly on my pussy, the other opens my blouse, baring me to him. Through the mirror, he watches me, devouring me with his hands and gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. Through my back, I can feel his heartbeat beating, just like mine, fast-paced. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever set my eyes on. Every time we’re in the same room, I feel all my attention being drawn to you.”

My eyes roll back. His hands are unforgiving, torturing me. The one buried in me is alternating between slower and faster rhythms while the other is paying thorough attention to my breasts.

“It’s like I am completely consumed by you,” he groans, his hips flexing against my ass.

He’s awake, alright.

“Vincent.” My moan comes out more like a broken whisper than anything.

---