Hot Ink

Chapter 7

Relief flooded through her, along with excitement, as she realized that he'd risen to turn off the lights. Her clit was still throbbing, aching and swollen, and though she could only make out his outline as he crossed the waiting area, she could hear his footsteps clearly. Her head swam as her imagination went wild, speculating over what he planned to do to her in the dark. When he stopped behind the couch and placed his hands on her shoulders, she leaned back into him, letting her head rest against his firm belly.

"Mina." He slowly pushed his hands downward, caressing the curves of her shoulders before cupping her breasts below, his thumbs trailing over their peaks, causing her nipples to harden, even beneath the cover of her clothing.

An anticipatory shiver raced down her spine as she imagined his palms and fingertips against her bare flesh, holding the weight of her breasts and teasing her nipples just as he was now. Below, her clit throbbed harder than ever. She'd never wanted anyone this badly.

In what seemed half a second he withdrew his touch and rounded the couch, settling close beside her again. Her heart skipped a beat as the cushion shifted beneath her in response to his weight, forcing her to lean against him - not that she didn't want to. She rested her head on his shoulder and pressed her lips against his neck, kissing a trail from his lightly stubbled jaw to his collarbone. Meanwhile, butterflies erupted into flight inside her belly as he unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down the zipper. Before she knew it her lips met empty air as he slid off the couch, dropping to his knees in front of her.

"Eric, I..." Nervousness struck her as he began to ease her jeans down over her hips.

He paused, the denim still caught firmly in his fists. "What?" His warm breath hit her belly, causing her nipples to shrink to aching points and the skin on her arms and the back of her neck to pebble.

She blinked, straining to meet his eyes in the darkness. She couldn't -- it was too absolute. Streetlight filtered in through the windows, but the new posters blocked much of it and none of it reached the alcove where the couch was situated. If she couldn't see his brilliant eyes, then he  see much of her either. The knots of tension in her stomach eased a little. "Nothing." When he tugged on her jeans again she arched her hips, allowing him to slide them down to her knees. Her flats fell to the floor one by one as he pulled her pants over her ankles.

The plush couch cushions were sinfully soft against her thighs and bottom, and for a split second, all she could think about was that she was so wet that she'd soon dampen them. Eric increased her worry by peeling off her panties, pulling them down and over the lengths of her bare legs as smoothly as he had her jeans. Her folds were slick, her clit tingling. The couch cushions didn't stand a chance, and the thought mortified her. This was her place of work, and if she sat naked below the waist on the couch much longer, it was going to be as wet as her.

Eric put a stop to her fretting by reaching around her hips to grasp the round curves of her ass and pull her to him, so that she was balanced on the edge of the couch, her pussy touching nothing but air that was warmed by his breath instead of the plush couch cushion. 

He put his hands between her thighs and flattened his palms against the insides, willing her to open them as he exerted a gentle pressure. 

She let them unfold,exposing herself to him and trembling when his breath hit her slick skin, streaming over her clit. A part of her consciousness was detached, as if she could hardly believe what was happening, while the rest of her sparked and hummed with anticipatory delight, reveling in every little sensation. When Eric pressed his mouth flush against her pussy, he demanded every bit of her attention,forcing awareness into every corner of her mind. He gripped her thighs firmly as she shook, shocked by the feel of his tongue against her clit.