The Tangled Web of Desire

Chapter3

Onna:

The crisp night air caressed my flushed cheeks as I stumbled out of Martha's apartment building and into the quiet street. My head was still swimming from our...intense conversation, though I couldn't say if it was due to the lingering tension or just my own damnable overactive imagination.

"Get it together, Onna," I muttered, raking my fingers through my tousled purple locks. The last thing I needed was to unpack the confusing jumble of feelings those heated moments with Martha always seemed to stir up.

A mischievous smirk played across my glossed lips as I remembered her scandalized reactions to the racy excerpts from her writing. Classic prim and proper Martha - flustered yet undeniably intrigued by the erotic possibilities her fantasies conjured.

"One of these days, sis, you're gonna finally embrace that gorgeous inner freak I know lurks beneath that chaste facade..."

My thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ping of an incoming text from an unfamiliar number:

Unknown: Hey there, beautiful. Don't remember swapping digits but you looked so fine, I had to take a chance. This is Xavier from Derschel's earlier - the guy you were eye-f*****g all night? Wanna meet up for another drink sometime soon?

I barked out a laugh at the cringeworthy message, barely resisting the urge to hurl my phone into the nearest trash bin. Of course some bargain bin f*ckboi was shooting his pathetic shot into the ether, hoping to get lucky.

With a deft swipe, I blocked the number and dropped my phone back into my crossbody bag, rolling my eyes. As if I'd ever entertain such a flagrant...

My steps faltered as a pair of sleek black town cars glided past, seeming to move in eerie slow motion. From the tinted rear window, piercing blue eyes locked onto me from beneath a casual driped of tousled chestnut hair. My breath hitched as liquid butterscotch orbs drank in every curve, every homswinging detail.

It was him.

The mysterious, devastatingly handsome stranger who'd instantly commanded the entire room's attention the moment he arrived at Derschel's earlier that night...

George:

I'd spent the better part of the evening holed up at Derschel's, a discreet upscale lounge in the heart of downtown. Meticulously nursing glass after glass of Lagavulin in a vain attempt to drown out the incessant buzzing between my ears.

Another failed business maneuver, another few million quid flushed down the proverbial toilet. At this point, the continual litany of rejection and disappointment was as involuntary as breathing. No amount of liquid therapy could dull the incessant ache much longer.

Which is why the instant she sauntered through those heavy oak doors, radiant and unaware, it was as if the universe fractured around her presence.

From across the dimly lit bar, I watched transfixed as the leggy stunner with vibrant purple tresses claimed a seat, those lithe limbs casually crossing to put her assets on flagrant display. A smattering of raucous laughter and flirtatious banter soon followed as she held court over the slobbering sect of knuckle-dragging Neanderthals.

Yet my gaze remained unwaveringly locked on the siren, groaning inwardly as she toyed with the ridiculous garnish in her cocktail using full, pillowed lips practically designed to inspire lascivious thoughts. Of their own volition, my eyes traced the slender curvature of her throat, down the taunting sweep of decolletage just begging to be lavished with attention.

Get a grip, Smith. You're behaving like a bloody schoolboy with his first stiffy.

Gritting my teeth, I deliberately pivoted in my seat, forcing my gaze in the opposite direction. Only to feel it slowly, inexorably dragged back to the irresistible vortex of her raw, unfettered radiance moments later. From the tawny fusioned depth of her heavy-lidded bedroom eyes to the wildly purple locks that begged to be twisted around one's fist as she was properly, thoroughly ravaged.

Christ...when was the last time I'd felt such unrelenting visceral thirst for a woman? Not mere lust for the act itself, but a primal ache to possess, to conquer that tantalizing creature from the inside out?

Too bloody long, that's for certain.

Before I could really process my body's traitorous reaction, I was signaling for the check and throwing back the dregs of my scotch. Something feral, something ravenous had awoken within me that refused to be sated until I'd drank my fill of this intoxicating siren.

The raucous din and smoky haze of the lounge seemed to part before me like the Red Sea as I stalked towards her with undisguised purpose. Upon closer inspection, her tawny complexion and striking features held unmistakable traces of mixed ethnicity - perhaps a dash of Mediterranean blended with something More free western air...

"Well hello there, gorgeous."

The lilting words slipped past my lips before any further consideration, brilliant blue eyes gliding over the succulent swell of her cleavage shamelessly. A delicious current of awareness passed between us as her kohl-rimmed gaze leisurely traced the contours of my face.

"Fancy seeing you here," she purred, plush lips quirking. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I could ask you the same question, love." I greeted her playful smirk with one of my own, allowing my voice to dip into a low, sinful register. "Though I get the distinct impression you're the sort who's accustomed to stopping men dead in their tracks."

Rather than be cowed, those ever-changing eyes fairly danced with delight as she slowly uncrossed and recrossed those interminable legs. "Well, well...isn't someone rather deliciously brazen this evening? Tell me, gorgeous - do all your obnoxiously transparent lines actually work on women? Or am I simply being graced with the pitiful musings of a deeply thirsty man utterly bereft of game?"

A low chuckle rumbled up from my chest at her blatant derision, alcoholic bravado and intrigue fusing into a potent aphrodisiac. "Fair point, you've rather deftly seen through my feeble attempts at seduction. Though I should mention, I seldom put much effort into the art of verbal foreplay..."

Before she could protest further, I clasped her soft hand and tugged her to her feet - relishing the momentary flutter of surprise before our bodies collided front to front. Searing heat coiled low in my belly as I angled my hips, allowing the impressive swell of my arousal to grind against her pelvis in a blatant declaration of intent.

"You see, I've never had much need for pretty words and hollow flatteries," I rasped against the swell of her lips, tasting the tang of her strawberry gloss. "My interests tend to be...far more corporeal in nature."

To her credit, the vixen didn't so much as flinch at my overt dominance display. If anything, those eyes shone darker with a mixture of challenge and undisguised hunger as she rolled her body against mine in delicious friction.

"Is that so?" she breathed, teeth grazing my jawline as she staked her own claim with a series of rapidly shallowing breaths. "Well then...I certainly can't fault your penchant for cutting straight to the chase, baby. Though I do have one rule about entertaining such...corporeal pursuits."

Onna:

Somehow, against all conceivable logic and reason, I'd allowed this man - this brooding Adonis with the piercing gaze and aura of coiled menace - to manhandle me right there in the open lounge. To bend and dominate me before either of us had so much as exchanged pleasantries.

Yet as his thick, denim-sheathed length rutted against my slick heat through the thin lace of my thong, I found myself unable to muster even a speck of protest. There was something dangerously intoxicating, something electric about the way his stormy blue depths seemed to devour every detail with silent intensity.

No, not devour...consume. Possess. Fuckkkk...

"This creature's quite eager to ingest your particular...application, lover," I all but purred against the thrumming pulse at his throat. "But only if you can follow the one simple rule..."

My tongue darted out to tease the sensitive hollow with measured, featherlight swipes, relishing the way his chiseled features tightened ever so slightly.

"And what rule might that be?" His graveled baritone was filled with the promise of my full imminent lavish - a stark counterpoint to the iron restraint he displayed. "Do tell, kitten..."

Again, that sweltering endearment containing the barest wisp of scorn. Of the assertion that no matter my demands, this man would eventually subjugate me to his will completely. The thought caused those first dizzying tendrils of arousal to unfurl between my legs in earnest.

Euphoric glow I guides...Estrus deliciously.

***