-MATURE SUBJECT MATTER-
His large masculine hands slid over her smooth skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Lower and lower his hands traveled, learning and mesmerizing every curve of her lithe body, creeping closer to their destination: The mound between her legs. She instantly opened her legs in invitation, with a moan of approval.
"Are you sure?" He asked, hesitantly. His deep voice was gravelly and manly. She could hear the eagerness in his tone, yet he was willing to stop if she got uncomfortable or had second thoughts. What a sweetie. He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. If not more so.
"Yes, I'm sure, more sure than I have been about anything in my life." She rasped out. She could barely thinking clearly with the arousal coursing through her.
"There's no going back." He warned. "Would you go back on your word?" He asked curiously.
"I would never." She breathed.
Slowly, he removed her silky red panties, dragging them down her long legs and out of the way of his treasure. He ran a tentative finger down her wet folds. "Beautiful." He groaned, and for the first time in her life, she believed it. She believed that she was beautiful. It was all because of his constant worshipping. Carefully, he pushed a finger into her hole, stopping at the unexpected barrier.
"You're a virgin." He choked out.
She blushed with sudden embarrassment. "Is that a problem?" She whispered.
"No. I'm just surprised that someone as stunning as you has not been with anyone yet." He said, running his other hand through her brown hair.
"I haven't liked anyone enough to let them touch me so intimately." She was growing more and more tense with worry, maybe he wanted to sleep with someone who knew her way around the male body, someone who could take the lead and please him. She couldn't.
"I'm honored that you would allow me to be the first man to ever touch and taste you." He said, lovingly. He leaned down to plant a firm kiss on her full lips.
When a loud alarm clock beeped in the background, interrupting their 'almost' love making. He stepped back, eyes wide as though she had offended him in some way. "Come back." When he didn't and continued backing away, she started to get desperate. "Please don't leave. Please, we just started. I'm ready, I said I was ready." She begged, but he did. He left her alone, again.
Kimberly woke with a start. Her breath came in short pants, her skin was slick with sweat, her limbs trembled in recollection of the dream, and her center pulsed with arousal. It was strange how a simple dream had her all worked up and it all started with the sexy billionaire Henry Halliday. All day she was able to keep her mind off that handsome hunk of man, but when she closed her eyes, all bets were off. Henry was back in her head and ready to drag her mind into the gutter.
Kimberly pushed back the thick covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She turned off her alarm clock and looked around her room. The sun was still down and the room was still dark and dreary. With a weary sigh, she slipped out of bed and crossed her room to the bathroom. One scalding shower was what the doctor ordered, in a way. She reached into the shower and twisted the faucet all the way up, it wasn't long before steam began rising and filling the bathroom.
Next, she padded into her closet, picking out a hot pink button-up blouse and a simple black slim-fitting skirt. She didn't dress up for her job, even though she did work with the richest family in all of New York City. Just work casual would suffice. She stripped down to nothing and returned to the bathroom, slipping into the shower and letting out a throaty moan. Yep, this outrageously expensive condo was all worth it when she used the shower. She thoroughly washed, rinsed, shaved, and went back to wash again. Only when her stomach began growling did she hop out. When she used to live with her family, she would have to fight her way to the bathroom. It was great not having anyone to share with, but rather lonely. She grabbed a thick, fluffy white towel and moved on to the sink.
She quickly brushed her teeth and blow-dried her hair, combing it out and pulling it up into a high ponytail. Like most girls, she was very self-conscious about the smallest details of her appearance; the color of her hair, for example. It was plain brown. No golden, no chestnut, no platinum. It was just plain, bland, regular brown.
She left the bathroom and got dressed, slipping on a pair of black polka dot heels.
Her stomach had woken up, stretched out, and roared from the lack of food. "Time for breakfast. Time for food. Time to stuff my face." She chanted repeatedly. She opened her fridge only to find healthy foods. Protein, veggies, fruits, and other health foods adorned her shelves. "So..." She frowned. "My mom has visited." She went through a few cabinets, only finding tasteless snacks. "I see how it is, mom." She went back into her bedroom and rifled through her bedside table until she found her emergency stash of junk food. She knew her mother, she knew she was going to sneak attack her kitchen at some point.
That sly ninja, she hadn't even known her mother had visited. She was just that kind of mom, excessively involved in her daughter's life. Kim had given her mother a house key once, just for emergencies. Her mother had over used that key, forcing Kim to have to take it away. It wasn't until she took it away that she found out her mother had made several spares.
She pulled out a granola bar. "See, mum, compromise. It's a granola bar dipped in caramel and chocolate, but STILL a granola bar." She ripped it open and took a big bite out of it. Mm...
Now, it was time to leave. She grabbed her purse and phone, remembering her keys at the last minute. Cursing herself, she grabbed them and locked her front door. She practically ran down the flight of stairs, as much as you can run in a pair of six-inch pumps.
Sitting in its designated parking spot sat her black beauty, insanely expensive and bloody fast. She jumped in and pulled out of the parking lot faster than you could ask where she was going. As the personal assistant to Ms. Halliday, she was responsible for getting to work on time, even if that happened to be at five in the morning. Ms. Halliday was both the CEO and owner of Halliday Interior Design. As a former poor girl, she knew that people like her didn't need to spend a fortune on having a room match. However, there were people out there who would spend thousands on having a person come into their home and saying what color throw pillows will match the drapes.
Kimberly pulled into Ms. Halliday's driveway and swiftly climbed up the porch steps to Ms. Halliday's manor. The lights were off as though no one was home. That couldn't be right. The sound of her heels clicking along the wood planks was the only thing to hear. She knocked.
No one answered.
She knocked again, hoping for a different result.
Still, no one answered.
She knocked again, this time slightly harder.
The door yanked open, revealing a shirtless man clad in plaid pajama pants. "Yes?" He asked in a harsh gruff voice. Right when he saw her, his eyes softened. Only she made his eyes soften that way. She pretended not to notice the small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Henry. She rolled her eyes, of course her one temptation in life would open the door barely clothed. "It's seven thirty." She said, tapping her wristwatch.
He understood her words, gesturing inside. She walked inside, careful not to accidentally brush against him. The smallest of contacts would fuel wet dreams for at least a week.
"I'm sorry to say, but my mother has come down with something. She won't be coming to work." His voice sounded extra husky, as though he had just woken up. He probably had. Stupid her, she hadn't wanted to start her day off by waking Henry up.
