INFAMOUS TEMPTATION

LOLA

"What if Eddy walked in on us?"

I had asked, trying my best to keep a light expression and not give off the fact that I was actually worried about it, and I wouldn't know what to do if my worries suddenly became reality.

My emotions built up rapidly, somewhere between shameless satisfaction and a fear that stiffened my ears.

"I don't think he will. Right?" he replied, like he too was not even sure.

Slowly, the energy dampened into a harsh reminder slammed into our faces — I was still Eddison Langford's wife, and Connor was still his best friend.

"I think we should..."

"Maybe we should..."

We spoke at the same time.

I swallowed, nodding my head at him to continue, but he shook his head, and the ring of sweat initially trapped in his brows escaped, dropping cold on the swell of my left bre*st.

I flinched hard, but his eyes had moved from my face.

He was staring down hard at the bare of my chest, like he had seen something else I couldn't see.

"F*ck!" I cussed breathlessly.

My n*pples were beginning to form into balled rocks, and heat gathered slowly between my legs.

Connor was still hanging over me, and the door was still unlocked.

But none of those mattered at the moment.

I needed to stop whatever was forming against my thoughts, but he wasn't making it easy for me. It didn't look like he wanted to.

My fingers trembled against the sheets, forcing me to grab a portion of the thick material tightly, hoping it helps me calm down.

As if Connor knew how much I was struggling to keep myself from aching my waist towards his, and forcing him to go down on me again, maybe even harder than before, he sucked in a long breath, and exhaled sharply, warm air spreading across the bare of my stomach.

My breathing ceased for a second.

Then, my hands flung off the sheets, landing on his back with the precision of someone who had it all planned out.

Caressing the muscles built strategically against the cages of his shoulders, and slowly rubbing it down to his waist, I pushed myself up to meet the warmth of his own, allowing him to press a deep kiss against my lips.

His hands came on my shoulders again — firm, determined, but this time, his body didn't follow mine down.

Pinning me against the bed, my entire body aching for his attention, he just stared steadily into my eyes, like he was searching for a reason to let me go.

The air suddenly became cold, and my body tingled under his influence.

"Alright," he breathed out, spranging up with a sudden urgency.

"I will leave you be, until I can come inside you again," his voice rumbled against the words, giving the overall outcome the effect of a sedative.

My heart was beating very fast, and before I could even stop myself, I had silently started hoping that he changed his mind.

That somehow, he would come on the bed again, his eyes ravishing my body even before his hands got to.

But it didn't happen.

I watched him pull his trousers up, adjust his leather jacket and diligently walk through the door like the moment from a while ago never happened.

The door slamming back into its frame awakened a harsh reality in me — Connor is gone. I could only imagine he had stayed longer.

As I groaned to the fullness of my developed orgasm, my throat felt parched and painful.

I wasn't going to give myself a handjob, because I was sure that wouldn't work as much, especially with how good Connor had been.

Thinking against any form of self satisfaction, I decided to go down to the reception for room temperature water.

As I descended the stairs, my thoughts still lingered on the thoughts of how good Connor had proven to be.

I found myself wishing for a time like that with him again.

I was so deep in my own shameless thoughts that I didn't realize my father-in-law was leaning on the wall by the foot of the stairs.

I had already walked past him when he cleared his throat loudly, calling my attention back to his presence.

I froze, turning sharply to see him dressed in soft silky dark pajamas, his hair parted slightly in front, and then the ends brushed back neatly, looking too put together for that time of the night.

"I heard there was a situation. I was on my way to check if you were okay," he spoke, his face trapped in a tight expression.

My heart beat doubled, my fingers trembling beside me at the thought of being together in a room alone again.

"I'm... I'm fine. I'm not hurt," I replied, more out of necessity than commitment to the conversation.

I watched his eyes glower against my body, but his expression gave away his thoughts.

He swallowed, his throat bulging against the pressure. Then, his gaze softened into familiarity.

I adjusted in my stance, and waited for him to make another move.

"Are you sure? You can tell me, you know."

I nodded my head to his last question, and managed a smile in an effort to convince him that everything was fine.

Staring into my eyes like he was making a decision between tea and coffee for morning breakfast, he took a step towards me. Then, another and another, until he couldn't take the next one without completely ramming into my face.

I didn't move. I just watched, my heart almost splitting out of my chest.

I swallowed the large lump hanging over my throat as a whiff of his perfume that smelled like sandalwood and oranges sipped through my nostrils.

The rhythm of his breathing doubled, and it only made me more anxious.

I was hanging in the moment, just like someone certain they'd fall off a very high cliff, yet still clinging onto the hop of landing on an air bed.

I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to hold me down tightly no matter how much I struggled to free myself.

I wanted him to...

My mind skipped a couple of beats, my body stiffening to the soft coldness of his lips against mine.

I trembled under my own defenselessness, but he grabbed my shoulders and held them down in the gentlest way to communicate that I was safe with him.

His lips didn't leave mine. 

His tongue found the tip of mine and he nibbled on it lightly before taking my lower lip again — ravishing like it was another form of oxygen.

I didn't come to my senses immediately, but when I did, my hands moved.

Pushing him with every energy I could pull, I watched him stagger back, his expression neutral like he already knew this would happen.

Breathing heavily, I wiped across my mouth with the back of my palm, regret leaving an after taste at the back of my throat.

Regret?

Maybe fear. The fear of wanting what I shouldn't even be looking at. The fear of that same thing falling easily into my hands.

"Lola...," he called out, his voice devoid of any warmth.

I blinked rapidly, swallowing again to loosen the tension that had my stomach in a firm knot.

"I'm sorry sir," I stuttered, unable to even look at his face.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw his figure shift, out of the way, like he was quietly asking me out of his sight.

Adrenaline ran down my spine, forcing my legs to move, and before I knew it, I was behind the closed door of my room again, sticking my fingers down my p*ssy to ease my overflowing emotions.