Fatal Attraction | D.M. (Soft Rewrite)

Chapter Forty - Candlelight

Draco sympathetically led his fingertips across Ophelia's inner thigh. Ghosting a serpent-like pattern on repeat, which elicited no response from her lips - but brought forth goosebumps over her flushed skin.

He knew it felt good. It was just inconsequential after the ecstasy she'd earnt on his tongue.

Trying not to overwhelm her senses but too selfish to stop. He didn't want to be forgotten, while she left her high. However, he was careful to avoid all the over-worked areas. Settling for an innocent portion of exposed skin - he decided to check her grasp on reality, by cautiously tracing his hand higher.

Yet her reluctance to respond, proved she needed more time. So, he stayed on his knees. Patiently waiting, without a reason to rush. Since his intention to fuck her into oblivion would only be possible if she was fully prepared.

Dwelling on it all - he couldn't comprehend how beautiful she looked. How magnificently she broke at his touch. Every whimper and moan of his name felt divine. His eyes unable to fathom her heavenly form, resting only inches away.

Draco didn't usually pat himself on the back for giving someone what they deserved. Since she certainly was owed every second of that climax... But he felt a little proud. A little smug with himself.

He couldn't be certain because he couldn't ask. And my ego wouldn't survive if she said no... But he thought he saw Ophelia resurface - her body ease back to reality. Before she was dragged into another, belated wave of pleasure - which only hit once she opened her eyes. And maybe that was all from my touch but...but it felt like it was a direct response to seeing me...

And that suspicion sent him wild.

One of her legs was still balanced over his shoulder, the other had dropped to the floor. Leaving him with an unadulterated view of her body. Her legs deliciously spread apart - waiting to be studied.

Waiting to be filled... Fuck! Patience is a virtue and all that – but I'd much rather indulge in Ophelia.

My vice.

My weakness.

The summit of all my desires.

It was the most intimate vision he could ever capture of the woman he adored. Her core glistening in his saliva - proved his wet kisses had reached the softest part of her body.

From the bliss on her face - to the trace of his tongue - he never wanted anyone else to delight in her.

Taste her.

Touch her.

She's mine... And there's no debate. I definitely beat her last experience on this sofa... And we're far from finished... Although that sort of depends on how easily she recovers... I don't want to push her limits but holy fuck - I want to learn where they live.

I want to know everything.

Every fantasy. Every idea that goes through that pretty little head concerning my cock.

She took me restraining her hands fine...and the spanking...but I know there's other things she wants to explore... There must be. She just doesn't have the right words – or the confidence to admit it.

Ophelia noticed the heat radiating around her limbs. Her body stuck in its comfortable stupor. Her energy stolen by the entrancing man between her thighs. So, she was currently recharging. But grateful to feel her senses flooding back.

She felt herself sink deeper into the sofa cushions, like weights had been fastened to the four corners of her body. A sensation that was enhanced by the green light filtering through the windows, which opened onto the Black Lake.