Advent Calendar for Grown-ups by Alexandra Iff
#1 Bestseller in Romantic Erotica
As we drive along, I feel the silence creeping in, slowly becoming palpable and all my excitement drains. Sooner or later the veiled dark lord will emerge and my demise will be clearly visible to all. He glances at me as much as the driving allows, perhaps waiting on me to say something. But I don’t. I just stare in front of me, surreptitiously enjoying the ride.
“Amelia.” Finally he speaks, his grave voice sending forewarning down my spine, the tone, promptly reminding me of the reason why I am there.
I do nothing but sit still. My heart starts beating like I’m running twenty miles an hour and my breathing is noticeably catching pace.
“Amelia.” His voice again, reverberates through me.
That’s it. I will beg for my dignity, I will bargain, do anything but this. Because feeling what I do, it won’t be hard to come for him. I look at him and scrutinize his every move. I want to hate him. I need to hate him. To detest him. Only that will prompt me to scream for help.
His arms extend straight to the steering wheel, his legs, slightly spread and playing with the clutch, the gas and the brake pedal. His face is fixed on the road. Occasionally he throws a glance in my direction looking at my legs while raking his fingers through his wild hair and wetting his luscious lips, undressing me with his eyes. In fact, in his eyes, I am already naked…saying that, I might as well be. I am hot and my body is yearning for something… Ah, his composed appearance makes me uneasy, like he knows what’s going on in my head. I am ready to beg, but my voice is deserting me again, making me barely audible.
“Don’t make me….please…” I end on a whisper.
“Open your legs.” His domineering voice ignores my pleas and sends tremors all over my body. My soul takes over and… I close my eyes. Quietly enduring the flutter in my stomach, my legs slowly open, leaving me incapable to think. I recline in the seat and tilt my head back, my movements in slow motion, creating havoc inside my body.
“Yes…like that…” His voice is not insulting anymore. It feels good…pleasing him.
“Open them wider.”
My fitted skirt is limiting my movements and I can’t…when I feel his hand on my thighs, pulling it up, hardly touching me. Rippled waves race along my legs, making my insides, for the second time today, throb with longing for his touch. I am hot and moist, I’ve been wet all day today.
“Mm…Yes….There you are….”
I think that’s all I needed from him; to see me, to see my agonizing need. I reach up and lightly run my fingers across my panties, rubbing gently, rotating over my nub, shivering in pleasure.
I gain access by hooking my middle and index fingers on the side of my panties and gently run them up and down my folds. I slide them inside of me, dipping into my juices, soaking them, and I slowly glide them out, smearing and rubbing my crux, prompting my hips to start their gyrating dance in the seat. I remember this afternoon and it’s all coming back to me. I feel the influx of my juices; I’ve wanted this all day. I pull my skirt further up with my other hand, reaching my panties from above and slide them down, directly inserting my middle and index fingers inside me, feeling the warmth of my folds. I like this. I open my legs as much as I can and, leaning on the seat, I tilt my head to look at him while I hump my fingers. Glancing in my direction but mainly looking at the road, he is holding the wheel firmly with a hooded glint in his eyes. I am hot, in a need of a good fuck and my cognitive thought process is nonexistent. I’m not sure what prompts me but I reach out and start rubbing the engorged bulge in his jeans.
Not losing his composure even for a second, he removes my hand slowly, shaking his head at me.
“Only you, Amelia.”