*First time sharing an erotica story, so I'm a bit nervous(and curious)! Any feedback much appreciated :D*
After the fifth time that my eyes drifted from the screen of my laptop to the rain ripping down the dark window, I gave up getting any work done for the evening. Standing from my desk with a stretch, I ran a hand over my forehead, finding it sticky with the oppressive humidity. It had been raining for two days straight now. But what did I expect? I'd chosen to stay through monsoon season.
I flopped onto the couch in my panties and singlet, reaching to pick up my book. At least now that the sun had gone down the temperature would cool off a little, and I liked falling asleep to the pounding rain.
Invariably my mind drifted back to that night. Of him. Adam. If that was even his name. I didn't know. Shaking my head, I tried to focus on the words on the page. I would not obsess over someone I'd probably never see again. Someone I hadn't even had sex with, in the bare hour we'd been together. But his mouth, his hands... No. I would not think about that. Not about his hard, lean body, his possessive mouth...
There was a creak. I frowned, looking away from my book to peer over the back of the couch. The glass sliding door to my balcony was open. Water splashed in as the fat droplets hit the wood outside. Had I opened it? I stood up, padding to it in my bare feet to pull it closed. Then I flopped down on the couch again. Started reading, determined to focus on that instead of daydreaming.
My light flicked out. It wasn't total darkness, but it was certainly too dim for my book. I threw it on the coffee table, moving to sit up while I muttered about monsoon power outages.
That's when I noticed the shape. Standing at the foot of the couch. I gasped, almost screamed, before I recognized his pale torso, rippled with abs and slightly damp, like he'd come in from the rain and left his shirt behind.
Before I could comprehend, Adam was closer, almost diving on top of me, pushing me back flat on the couch. He yanked me down by my legs so that I lay flat on the seat. In shock I pushed against his bare chest before my wrists were caught by his big hands and pinned either side of my head.
"What the- Get off me!" I gasped, suddenly caught under his weight. Adam's damp pant leg pushed between mine, his hot skin clammy against my waist where my singlet had ridden up in the struggle. I could feel his breath, smelling of rain, low on my cheek. Droplets of water, single points of coldness against the heat between us, traveled down his dark locks and plopped onto my chin and jaw.
"No," he said, almost a laugh. Like I was suggesting the most ridiculous thing in the world. Dipping his head lower, his hair tickled my neck.
"Adam..." I warned. I knew that probably wasn't his name, but it was the only one I had to call him by.
Hot breath against my ear sent shivers creeping down my spine. "Did you think I would just go away? Just forget you and your sweet submissive little pussy?"
The hard bulge on the front of his pants pressed against the thin, flimsy material of my panties. My breath caught. I wriggled to free myself, but he pressed down harder, and I whimpered, though I silenced myself quickly. Pleasure radiated out from my clit, the heat of him impossible to ignore as he held the blunt pressure against that point.
"I like it when you struggle, don't you remember?" That voice I remembered, so deep, and now spoken in an intimate, knowing whisper.
My heart was hammering, breath coming fast. I was both aroused and afraid, and the latter seemed to be intensifying the heat between my legs rather than overshadowing it. "Adam you can't just break in and..."
But he didn't want to hear what he couldn't do. Lips, so soft, so kissable, came over mine, his tongue pushing inside my mouth to jolt me with awareness. My body tensed against the sudden excitement, the unexpected touch, and for a few stupid moments I kissed him back.
That was all the encouragement he needed, pulling my wrists together to catch with one of his hands, Adam brought his free hand down to circle my throat. Breaking off the kiss to lightly feather his lips over my open mouth, his whisper was husky, "Will you be good?"
I wasn't going to answer that. I couldn't answer that. Regardless of what my body might think I was not about to have sex with the man who'd just broken into my house.
Then he released my wrists, but from the way his other hand tightened suggestively on my throat, I kept them where they were, pressed into the arm of the couch above my head.
By his movements, lifting his hips briefly off me, and the soft hum of a zipper, I knew his pants were undone.