Temptations 4

They came in the door, both seeming to take a deep breath as they dropped their things in the entryway. He flicked the kitchen light on as she sat down and pulled off her sopping wet shoes.

She barely noticed the cold of the house, though she could tell she was trembling due to lack of heating in the place. The drink alone was making her warmer. Her cheeks were flushed as she watched him get into the freezer and pull out a half a bottle of whiskey.

"Would you like?" he asked, holding the bottle out to her after unscrewing the cap. She grimaced and shook her head, already resting on the line between buzzed and actually drunk.

"I don't particularly like whiskey."

He chuckled and took a long swig from the bottle, grinning at her as she watched him. For a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to have him inside of her. She could tell by looking at him that he was a rough and demanding lover. His arms and legs were strong and his body lean enough to get and hold a woman in any position he dared, and judging from the screams and moans of the ones he brought home, it seems he did just that.

She blushed an even deeper shade of red when he caught her eye. His lips paused on the bottle for a brief instant as her mind involuntarily projected her desire deep into his. A wave of lust bolted between them. He lowered the bottle and set it down on the table, then rubbed his hands together and slowly lowered his jacket from his shoulders. Their gaze broke and she swallowed hard.

She tried to convince herself it was the drink that made her want him.

The blood swirled in her body as she felt her muscles tighten with eagerness. She had to get away before she acted on the growing craving for him. All she could picture was being controlled by his arms, pinned down as she was fucked out of her mind.

She stood up.

"I'm going to take a shower—warm up a bit," she said quickly, avoiding his eyes. They drilled like holes into her mind. He reached forward to remove her coat for her—a move more dangerous than he expected. Or did he know how badly she needed him? He seemed the type to tease, to play innocent until a woman broke down and begged him to do his best, or worst. He cracked his knuckles behind her and she sighed deeply. It was time to get away.

She hurried down the hall and into the small bathroom, stripping herself of her wet clothing and turning the water on. She climbed in after shutting the door, letting the warm water run over her body. The heat of it aroused her further, as did the massage of the water pummeling her sensitive skin. Her hand slid down her body and pushed two of her fingers inside herself. She worked them in and out, moaning loudly as she imagined him pounding her. She felt horrible for picturing him rather than her husband, but her mind never could control itself when at such a state of arousal. It went where it wanted, to what it wanted, and there was practically no reeling it in.

Her fingers began to thrust more furiously, and she moaned harder. She didn't care that he could hear her anywhere in the house at this point. Nor did she care when the bathroom door opened. A few seconds later, an arm wrapped around her waist and held her hand still, then pulled it away.

She wasn't surprised in the least bit. He knew what a woman wanted. She had known they'd fuck this night the moment his eyes met hers, despite her attempts to resist. One of his hands replaced hers in pleasuring her as his other held her wrist, pulling her hand up and sliding the fingers into his mouth to taste her juice.

He fucked her hard and long, and she reciprocated just as much. When the water from the faucet began to run cold on their naked bodies, they moved back into the kitchen, then into her room to continue on the creaky old daybed. He pounded her hard, not stopping until the sun began to watch them go at it through the green blinds on the window. He pulled out of her tenderly, letting her leg down from his shoulder, then kissed her forehead and smiled meekly at her before departing to his room. No words were exchanged between them. Words were unnecessary.

She couldn't help but wonder if she had really been so drunk in the first place. Only one thing was for certain, according to her worn out body.

He was all her imagination had made him out to be.