Tempting The Forbidden

(Elara's POV) I gulped as he walked slowly toward me. His eyes were locked on me, and I could see the intense hunger it held—for me. He was like a predator circling his prey and I loved it. I rubbed my thighs together in an attempt to cool the heat rising between my legs as I lay on my back, sprawled on his desk, waiting for his touch. That single act made me yearn for him more. The heat didn't fade. It pulsed, sharp and low, demanding attention. My dress clung to my skin like it had melted onto me, sheer and useless. I might as well have been bare. He stopped right in front of me, so close that I could feel the warmth radiating off of him. He had always been a source of comfort for me but this time, it was different. My heart thumped at the thought of what he was going to do to me as he looked down on my half-clad form with lust in his eyes. His hand came up slowly to my face as he hovered over me, brushing away the strands of hair from my face as I trembled. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" His voice was low and soothing. A whisper meant only for my ears. It slipped down my spine causing shivers on my skin as it settled low in my belly. My lips parted in a bid to reply but no words came. What could I possibly say? I could barely think, let alone speak. He leaned closer, his breath hot against my cheek, his fingers tracing the strap of my dress. "This is so wrong," he murmured, as his lips grazed my ear. I shivered as his hand moved down my arm, then lower, gripping my hip like he owned it. "So wrong," he repeated, dragging his mouth down the side of my neck, letting his teeth scrape gently over the skin. "But I can't stop." My hands reached up, clutching the fabric of his shirt. Slowly unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers trembled as I realized that I was about to have what I have always wanted. Him. Only Him. "You have no idea how long I have waited for this," I whispered as his gaze softened. He kissed me then, sudden and deep, slamming his lips onto mine with a need that stole my breath. I gasped as out tongues wrestled against each other, exploring every corner of our mouths. His hands were on my skin as he pulled my hips toward him exploring every single curve as though he wanted them memorized onto his palm. He groaned as I buried my hands in his hair, tugging each time his fingers made contact with my skin. My father's best friend. The man I'd known all my life. The man I should not, could not, ever want. But I did. Desperately. He broke our kiss and I whimpered at the loss of contact. Smiling mischievously, he slid his hand beneath my gown. "You don't know what you do to me, Elara," I swallowed hard. "Then show me." That broke him. His eyes darkened to black as he spread my legs with his knee. His fingers were on me again, brushing against my core through the thin lace that barely separated me from his touch. I moaned shamelessly, I couldn't help it. The sound escaped me, raw and needy. He rubbed slowly, teasing me as he watched me with a smirk as I fell apart. "You're so wet," he whispered, dragging the fabric to the side. "So ready for me." I shook as my entire body was overwhelmed with pleasure. This was too much for my body to handle but still, I wanted more. He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, his breath ragged. "Say it. Say you want me." "I want you," I struggled to make out. He kissed me again, deeper and rougher. One hand gripping my hip. The other slid under my dress, between my thighs, finding that aching, desperate place. I cried out against his mouth. He rubbed in slow, maddening circles, his breath catching at the sound of my moans. "That's it. Let me hear you," I moaned deeply as I felt my body quiver. I was so close to coming undone. "This is so wrong," he said, but his hands didn't stop. "God, it's so wrong." Those words made me more hotter, wetter and more desperate. My hips moved on their own, chasing the rhythm of his hand, chasing that unbearable edge. I was close, so close it hurt. "I'm going to..” "Elara," he murmured against my neck, kissing the sensitive spot below my ear. "Let go. I've got you." His fingers moved faster, deeper, driving me to the edge. I was right there. Seconds away from falling apart in his arms. So close… BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The sound of my ever annoying alarm clock shattered everything. I shot up from my bed, breathless and confused. My heart was racing and my skin damp was with sweat. I blinked, trying to focus, but all I could feel was the pulse between my legs and the unbearable ache that still lingered. My body was still on fire. I looked down. My nightdress was twisted around my waist, my panties soaked. My thighs were clenched tight, chasing a release that had been cruelly stolen from me by my stupid clock once again. I ran a hand through my hair, breathing hard. It was just a dream. Another dream where he was doing sinful things to me. And it felt real. Too real. His voice, his touch, the way he made me fall apart with nothing but his fingers. It was all still fresh in my mind. I could still feel the way he looked at me… like he was going to devour me. I swallowed hard, wiping my palm over my face. Damon. I shouldn’t be dreaming about him. He was my father’s best friend. A man I had known all my life. But that didn’t stop my body from reacting to him like he was made for me. I stood up, letting out a shaky breath as I walked to the bathroom. I splashed some water in my face as I thought about how I have been having the same dream for over a year. I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if I saw him tonight at my birthday dinner. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on my door. I wiped my hands on my nightdress and crossed the room, heart still beating too fast, body still tingling from the dream I hadn’t fully recovered from. I opened the door. And froze. Standing just outside my room were my parents and Damon with a lit birthday cake in their hands. “Happy birthday to you…” they sang in unison, grinning like it was the most normal thing in the world. But nothing about this was normal. Not with him here. Not after that dream. My eyes locked with Damon’s over the candlelight. His gaze was steady, unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at me that made my stomach flip. He was holding the cake with my dad as he grinned widely. I swallowed hard and forced a smile onto my face. “Make a wish,” Mom beamed. I nodded and pryed my eyes away from Damon. My heart pounded in my ears as I leaned in and blew out the candles. “How does it feel to be twenty?” Dad asked, stepping into the room with the cake. “Still feels like nineteen,” I muttered, managing a small laugh as my mom hugged me. Damon stood at the door, still watching me. He looked calm, relaxed but his eyes didn’t move from mine. “Happy birthday, Elara.” His voice was deep. Smooth. Exactly like it sounded in my dream. “Thanks,” I said, barely above a whisper. He handed me a small gift box. “Thought I’d stop by early before work. I’ll see you tonight at dinner. Seems like just yesterday that your dad fainted in the labour room” “Okay don’t start,” my dad scolded jokingly as we burst into laughter. Our fingers brushed again as I took the box. The contact was brief, innocent but it set off fireworks in me. He gave me a small, unreadable smile… then turned and walked away down the hall, his footsteps fading with every second. I shut the door, leaned back against it, and exhaled slowly. The same man who had me moaning his name in my sleep just showed up with a birthday cake and I had to pretend like everything was fine. God help me tonight.