RED

                                  RED

 “Sit cross legged.” He demanded in that calm voice that is absolutely maddening.

My legs immediately comply with his order, my spine straightened and my body hummed with expectation. Until him, I didn't even know I found dominance attractive. 

 His eyes darken after seeing me in the position. And I could feel it, the tension that tightened it's claws around both of us, threatening to snap and make us run crazy from all the want.

  I don't dare look away from his freakishly handsome face. Remembering the first time I noticed him. I swore up and down that I was going to skip all of my classes and focus solely on surfing, and being away from my family. Until I looked up from my phone to see the owner if the creamy, soft and calm voice that had the entire class listening attentively. I remember vividly the ripple of pleasure that shot through my spine, straightening it as our eyes met. His grey eyes had a way of making you feel like the only one in the universe. I felt all of my senses come alive that day, and i can't count the number of times I touched myself to that look he gave me. Slowly looking at me from under those thick lashes. 

 His arm muscles bulged as he gripped the pencil tenderly and made strokes on the paper. My eyes follow his arms up to where his white T shirt was folded right around his elbows. I swallowed as I imagined the tracing the veins that jumped on his thick arms. He must work out a lot, unless those veins came about from pumping himself.

 My mouth watered at the mental image of his hand stroking his hardness, his eyes shut, and his head thrown backwards as his groans spilled from his luscious lips in rhythm with his hands pumping up and down. My tongue sticks out just as the mental image of his seed sprays out in front of him.

 To my disappointment, my mouth is empty and he is fully clothed, in front of his canvas, his eyes on the work in front of him.

 I swallow, feeling embarrassed like I had been caught doing something I was not supposed to do. Even if he had no knowledge of what I was thinking about. To distract myself, I think of Jessica who was on the floor above me. Unlike me and my permanent client, she had randoms, so according to her, it was not fun.

  Also she advised i watched how he acted around me today, and report back to her, she will decide if he was my permanent client because he too wanted to do very nasty things to my body or because he didn't like seeing different faces every time. I really hope the verdict is in my favour. 

 “Your fingers.” He says startling me.

I blink in confusion. The way his voice turned me into something else needed to be studied. I heard the voice but not the words, it was like it washed over me, briefly passing over my nerve endings, tuning them to respond to his voice.

  “Your fingers. You keep playing with them. It is distracting.” 

I look down at my interlocked fingers, and immediately unlocking them, placing my hands at my sides limply. Anne had told me before that once I was anticipating something, my fingers get impatient and start locking and unlocking themselves. 

 “Place them both palm facing down on the bench.” 

I automatically do as I am told and he seems satisfied because he goes back to drawing me. 

 His eyes flicker to me and our eyes meet again. And thus time I hold onto those grey eyes, I feel the electric current between us pass again. He swallows, his eyes not leaving mine. He must feel it too. 

 Suddenly I am underneath him, my hands tied above my head, his grey eyes hovers above me and they promise me things untold.

 His mouth dips to my midriff, I whimper as his soft mouth make contact with my skin. He leaves tiny butterfly kisses all over my bare skin, hisses of pleasure escape my lips as we make eye contact from over the mould of my breasts.

 His hands work Slowly, tracing an invisible line on the outer sides of both my legs, his hands and mouth move simultaneously, as they both teased me by playing on the side-lines. 

 Suddenly moving up my body, up to my neck, he plants a kiss between my neck and collar bone, whispering in a husky voice;

 “You are so beautiful.”

My breaths come out short and i am unable to form a response to that. I am a mess of moans as his kisses move from my neck to my jawline. My hands struggle in their hold to do something, run my fingers through his hair or something like that. I start to beg him to untie my hands but what comes out of my mouth are unintelligible and scattered words punctuated by sharp breaths.

 “I can't untie you Red... you were playing with your hands. Distracting me, I had to do something about them.” He says in between kissing my jawline.

Nothing he says makes sense. But a word stands out to me.

 “Red?” I gasp out.

His kisses trailed to my ear, I shiver in pleasure underneath him.

 “Hmm... you're always in a red thong. Tempting me.” 

He punctuates this with a dart of his tongue snaking behind my ear.

 I whimper and my legs squeezed shut. Wet was an understatement of the century right now, I was flooding the entire place.

 “You are so pretty.” He mumbles again as his lips grazed my earlobe. I felt myself shiver against his hard body. 

My moans were unintelligible at this point, I was way past caring about it too. I just wanted him to slam himself inside me at this point.

 I felt something against my lips. I blink, and everything came back into focus. I was day dreaming about him again. He was not doing any of that, I was imagining all of it as per usual.

 I'm about to sigh in disappointment when I see that he is standing above me, I blink to clear it, but it is real and not my imagination. And I know this because his fingers are on my lips.

 I look up at him, his grey eyes are dark with desire. Taking a bold step, I bring his fingers into my mouth, keeping eye contact, and i suck on them. I dig his fingers deeper into my mouth, and my tongue hair is around the fingers, dancing on each digit whilst our eyes hold each other.

 “I can't do this.” He says in an apologetic whisper before dashing out of the room. Leaving me to stare at his retreating back, wondering what exactly went wrong.