Page 15 of Skin
It feels balanced.
My eyes trail along the line at the top of the dress, pressing my breasts up, making my body feel hot beneath the sumptuous silk. Gabe looks at me, but he isn’t taking anything away from me. I feel like he isgivingme something.
But it’s not enough.
When he looks into my eyes, itburns.
I feel my pussy clench up, needy and hungry and wanting more. Wanting him.
His cock against my folds was so exquisite. Painful, almost.Almost. I was desperate for him to sink himself into me, slice me in two, break me and put me back together.
He gives and he takes. I feel in balance. Grounded.
Darkness and power swirl around us. The inky black night is punctuated with the bright colors of the lights and neon and incandescence of the shops on the street. We pull over to the curb and the limo stops. I peer out the window. It’s stopped snowing. We are in front of a nondescript, plain building. It looks like an old factory. The first floor is dotted with large schoolhouse windows. The building is about six or seven stories high. The front door is large and wooden, old - it looks hundreds of years old, maybe. And there are men outside guarding the door.
Gabe gets out of the car and punctuates the cold night with the slamming of the door behind him, coming around to the other side to help me out.
In my stiletto sandals, the tips of my toes meet the fresh, powdery snow on the sidewalk.
“Stop, Avery,” Gabe says. He bends down and puts one arm easily around my back and the other under my knees, lifting me easily. I’m weightless in his arms.
I never thought I’d like this. I never thought I’d feel good giving myself over like this.
But I do. I can’t help it.
But what if he drops me?
What if he doesn’t? What if I allow myself to fall into his arms over and over, allow him to kiss me and touch me?
Let him fuck me?
Let him see all of me, the way I’ve never let anyone see before?
Gabe. He disarms me. He strips me. He makes me feel like I am wearing a new skin.
And Ibarelyeven know him.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers, taking me in his arms. His broad chest anchors me. His features are perfection. His voice is like honey. And his scent makes me feel crazy. My pussy clenches, needy and hungry as he pushes a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
He deftly carries me across the sidewalk, just a few steps, but it feels like a serene, full lifetime passes in those few seconds. All time stands still.
And I feel weightless as he puts me down.
He says nothing, but on the inside I feel that he wants me. Just from his expression. Just from the way that he says nothing.
I’ve never been wanted like this. Not in this way. Not in the way that makes me feel the way I feel right now.
I feel that I’ve been infected with some brilliant and special elixir. It’s intoxicating. Like a drug. I feel in control and out of control, in equal measure, all at once.
And the door opens before us, and Gabe loops his arm through mine.
We pass the guards. These are the kinds of men they should have employed at the massage parlor. I wince when I think about how naive I was.
We should have had this kind of security at thewhore house.
A wave of shame sweeps through me, but just as quickly, my breath is taken away.
We step through the doors and enter a small vestibule. The air smells like fresh cotton, cinnamon and patchouli oil. Lush green curtains cover the perimeter of the space. I don’t know if there are walls behind the curtains, or something else. A vast room, a small room, an expanse of people dancing and drinking, throwing their heads back and laughing at a joke. Maybe a beautiful woman with sun-kissed tanned skin and a man with bulging muscles and a ten-inch...you know…
