Evie
evie
T he rest of dinner goes better than I expect it to. Nate chases away the awkwardness with stories of his YouTube channel, where he recounts true crime tales, and even asks if I want to get dessert to take home when it comes time to wrap things up.
He still pays for dinner, joking about giving me a bigger tip than the waiter, before telling me, “If you like the guy, just tell him. Because from the way he was watching you all night, it seems like he’s pretty into you. I don’t know if it’s because you’re not looking for anything serious, or what, but just remember, anything casual always has the potential to turn into lifelong.”
“That’s oddly…profound, Nate. Thank you,” I tell him as he walks me to my car.
“Hey, I’m like an onion. I have layers.” He pulls me into a hug like we’ve been friends for years. “ Take it easy, . And if you end up not hooking up with him, give me a call.” He winks before strolling away and getting into a Tesla a few rows down.
As soon as I turn out of the parking lot, a text comes through from Eric, and I have my phone read it through the car's speakers.
You know, you said you weren’t ready, so I didn’t want to push you. But if you wanted to date around, you could have just been honest and not strung me along.
Irrational anger ignites from the tips of my fingers down to my toes. Using speech to text I reply.
I’m not stringing you along! You’re the one who’s never here, Eric. You’ve been gone longer than you’ve been here in town. We’ve spent more time on the phone than in person.
Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who kissed me on New Years? I told you I was a patient man, , but excuse me if I won’t wait on the sidelines while another guy ‘will enjoy peeling your dress off later’.
My job is demanding, and I do apologize for that. But again, sometimes you seem like you want more, and other times you seem like you’re content with being friends .
“Arrghhhh!” I scream into the air in frustration.
I’m well aware that arguing over text when it has to be read by a robotic woman’s voice drains some of the seriousness from the tone of the fight. Still, I continue to parry his statements with jabs of my own.
Yeah, I took second place to a job once, I won’t do it again. No, thank you.
And yes, I did kiss you, and then I panicked, okay? And yes, you’ve been a perfect gentleman, until the night where you insinuated you wanted to eat my pussy for dessert, commanded me to finger bang myself, and then pretended like it didn’t happen.
But you’re right. I’m the one who’s being confusing.
Pulling into my complex’s parking lot, I swing my car into its space with enough skid to make a drifter proud. I huff past the concierge, jamming my finger into the button for the elevator. My muscles strain with anger and pent-up sexual exasperation so thick it coats my skin like a layer of perspiration.
Is arguing with him really turning me on right now?
God, this is why I needed to get laid.
Bagel greets me at the door enthusiastically. I haven’t even been gone for two hours, but I attach his collar and leash, intending to walk off the heady sensation crawling down my limbs.
I don’t even get halfway to my room to change before there’s a knock at my door. Bagel goes ballistic as I turn to answer it, thinking it’s probably Phil, the concierge, with a package and I was in too pissy of a mood to realize he was trying to get my attention when I stormed through the lobby.
Yanking open the door, my heart stutters when I realize it’s not the concierge at all.
It’s Eric.
Blinking rapidly, I realize he had to have gotten in the other elevator before I even arrived on my floor. Which means…
Was he waiting for me?
Everything about him seems darker than usual—like the Mr. Hyde side of him is in full control as he storms in without an invitation, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck, while slamming the door with the other. I drop the leash as he crushes his soft lips to mine in a kiss that has my insides turning to lava. His hands are warm as they cradle the sides of my face, and he kisses me with fervent passion, as though he’s trying to consume my soul for his very own.
I whimper against his lips, hands flying up to encircle his wrists. Bagel continues to bark at us, unsure if the man he’s only met a few times means harm. When he finally pulls his lips from mine, I tell my pup to hush before returning my attention to him .
“Since you’re obviously confused about my intentions. Are they clear now?” Eric speaks harshly against my lips, nipping at them as he demands an answer to his question.
With a gulp, I nod, sliding my hands up his arms to his shoulders. “Crystal.”
Bending, he slides my skirt up to wrap his hands around my thighs, lifting me effortlessly before saying, “Good,” against my lips.
Without breaking eye contact, he sets me on my kitchen table after swiping off most of the supplies I spent hours organizing. Tangling my hands in his hair, I can’t even find it in me to be upset about it. I try to pull him back in for another kiss, but he resists.
His lips hover over mine, sparks of electricity creating delicious friction between them as he speaks. “I told you I’m a patient man, Evelyn. But if your plan is to go out there and see other guys, I might as well stake my claim now because the thought of another man with his hands on you drives me crazy.”
The words are a purr and a growl all rolled into one as they vibrate against my lips. He slides his hands under my skirt, hooking his fingers into my simple black panties and peeling them off, pressing me down onto the table as he cups my hip and urges me to lift them. I’m so fucking turned on as he slides the material down my legs that I’ll probably come the second he lays his sex-filled eyes on the most intimate part of me.
With a mind of their own, my hips undulate against the air, searching for any sort of relief as my breaths leave my chest in labored pants. Eric bends over me, fingers trailing lightly up the underside of my arms as he gathers them together and pins my wrists to the table with one hand.
“Tell me to stop, and I will. However, if you don’t, I’ll take that as you want this just as badly as I do,” he caresses the words against my lips.
An embarrassing mewl of desperation claws its way up my throat, and his mouth curves into a smile, brushing against mine ever so slightly. “Say it, Evelyn.”
My legs cage against his hips, knees parting shamelessly to accommodate him as he wraps his free hand around the crease where my hip and thigh meet to pull me flush against the hard bulge in his pants.
“I want it!” I cry out, voice raspier than I’ve ever heard it before. I hook my heels against his backside, trying to draw him against me—to do anything to ease the ache between my legs as my pussy cries its own form of tears.
I’m bare and making a mess all over the new ribbons I got earlier this week. But I don’t care as I thrash wantonly against the hard wooden surface. “Please, Eric. Please.”
“That’s it. I want to hear you beg for it.” An odd feeling skates underneath my butt, and it takes me a second to realize that Eric is pulling a ribbon out from beneath me. He removes it methodically, pulling the silken fabric up against my pussy, tilting his hand inward as he watches it slide between my lips, coating them in my arousal.
My head tips back in pleasure, my eyes screwing shut as the ribbon brushes against my clit.
This is what I need.
The thought floods my brain in a warm wave.
I need a man to take complete control of me. Make me feel safe, while making me feel dirty at the same time.
“Please, Eric.” He hasn’t even touched me yet—not really—and I already feel like I’m seconds away from coming. “I need you. I need you to touch me.”
“What else do you need, baby?” I feel him step away—hear him walk around the table, but I don’t open my eyes.
Not until I feel the ribbon wrap around my wrists.
Eric ties me swiftly and expertly, looping the other end around the part where the top of the table meets the corner leg and securing it tightly enough that my upper body jerks sideways.
I’m spread over the table like his personal feast. He returns between my legs, eyes glued to my pussy that’s pulsing, begging to be touched, licked, fucked, anything.
“Please, Eric,” I beg, whimper, and whine all at once. “Touch me. Taste me. Take me. Whatever you want, I’m yours.”
Baby blues snap to my face as his eyes widen slightly. “Say it again.”
His hands feel rough as they slide up my thighs, parting my legs before he leans his elbows on the table on either side of my hips. My dress hitches all the way up to my waist, the tightness of the fabric getting caught on my breasts as he tries to push it higher.
“I’m yours,” I pant, tugging at my restraints with the need to bury my fingers in his hair.
I can feel his hot breath at my entrance, his fingers curling into my ribs as we lock eyes just before he seals his lips over me. My head knocks back against the table, eyes screwing shut once more as my mouth falls open.
“Fuck,” I whisper to the ceiling.
Eric starts slow, gently running his tongue through my slick center to part me, before flicking his way to the tight bundle of nerves swelling at the apex of my thighs. He uses the tip to swirl around my clit, gently dragging it back down to dip inside me.
His moan vibrates into me. “Fuck, baby, you taste so fucking sweet.”
My toes curl as he maneuvers my legs over his shoulders before diving back in and yanking the top of my dress down, freeing my breasts. He pinches a nipple, rolling it between his fingers and tugging at the other while he licks and sucks me.
I flex my fingers, rotating my wrists to try to escape the ribbon because I want nothing more than to wrap my fingers in his hair and hold him to me while I ride his face. Eric seems to listen to every sound I make, abandoning teasing me in favor of going to town on my clit just how I like it.
“Just like that, don’t fucking stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop,” I moan, undulating my hips against his face.
And he doesn’t.
Fuck me, he doesn’t.
Not when he pulls the first orgasm from me. Or the second.
It's only after stars are exploding behind my eyes, my legs convulsing around his neck while I turn my face into my arm, biting down as I scream through my third climax, that he finally pulls back.
“I could keep this up all night. You’re so fucking pretty when you’re coming all over my mouth, Evelyn.” Eric bends over me, kissing me lightly and letting me taste myself on his lips as he cradles my throat. “This will have to hold you over for now. As for your comment about coming second to a job, I put in for some time off starting next weekend. I have to go back to New York to wrap things up, but as soon as I get back, let's go on that hiking trip.”
No, don’t leave me again.
I want to say the words, but my brain is still foggy, and metaphorical stars are still sparkling at the edges of my vision. My eyebrows draw together in confusion as the post-orgasm bliss begins to wane.
Next weekend is Valentine’s Day.
A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Out there, there will be absolutely no mistaking how good I make you feel, Evelyn. In the woods, you can scream as loud as you want.”
My pussy clenches, evidence of my multiple orgasms slipping from it and sliding in a wet trail down to my rear. Eric looks between my legs, his eyes darkening as he licks his lips like he’s thinking about going back for fourths.
His thumb strokes a rough patch down my neck. “And if someone tries to come to your rescue,” his gaze drifts to mine again, pure hunger etched into features, “they’ll never be able to find us.”