"Vincent..."
The moan escaped from her throat as her body arched off the bed. Two large hands slid up her legs, lightly squeezing her thighs. Light and almost featherlike kisses were planted on her outer thigh, moving into her inner thigh.
Her eyes fluttered shut as Vincent grabbed her legs, his nails digging into the skin. The slight pinch felt good.
"Vincent please." She breathed, her breaths becoming shallower as his perfect mouth neared the one place she wanted him the most.
"Patience, amore mio." He rasped, smirking against her skin. With a lick of his lips, he reached for her the lace material that seperated him from her treasure. Dragging them down with an achingly slow pace that was driving Imani crazy, he inwardly groaned as she lay before him completely bared.
Vincent threw the panties to the side, not caring much about where they landed. "You smell amazing." He complimented after inhaling lightly. Imani couldn't help but blush. "I wonder whether you taste the same." The moment he dipped his head, she fisted the bedsheets, holding on for dear life.
"Mom!"
Imani's eyes snapped open at the sound that had dragged her out of her erotic dream. It took her a while to realise that she was panting and that her back had arched off the bed. She turned towards her son, who was standing at the door with a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?"
With the bedsheets still tight in her hands, Imani tried to get her breath back. "Yes, honey, I'm fine. I, uh, are you okay?"
Luke Junior nodded. "The loud bell went off so I could go to school." He said rubbing his eyes.
"O-Okay sweetie, uh, give mommy a minute and I'll come and get you washed up and ready to go." The little boy nodded again, shutting her door and she let out a deep sigh. Her legs were tightly closed, so as to try and control the tingle she felt inbetween her thighs.
The dream had seemed so lifelike. As if Vincent was there with her doing those things to her and making her feel that way.
She still flt hot and bothered because of the heated kiss that they had shared. The feeling of his hands all over whilst his tongue worked its way into her mouth, coaxing out moans from her at every stroke.
Imani closed her eyes, trying to shake away the thoughts from her mind. At the end of the day - he was her boss.
Her boss who knew how to use his tongue extremely well.
She pushed the covers away from her body and ran a hand through her dishevelled hair.
As much as she had enjoyed every second of their encounter, it was unethical. Since when did unethical feel so good? She thought, huffing in frustration.
On the other side of the spacious house, Vincent lay in bed. His hands were behind his head as his mind wandered.
Wandered towards the woman whose body he had had trapped underneath his, the sounds she elicited hardening him instantly.
He remembered when he told her that he 'doubted she would be able to make him breathless' and yet he also remembered how hard he had been panting after their kiss was broken. What was it about her that had made his reaction so... intense?
Maybe it was the way her tongue fit around his. The way that not only their mouths but their bodies molded together perfectly - it was almost as if they had been crafted for each other.
Or maybe it was the way she had responded. She didn't back away or hesitate. She had instead enticed him with those dainty fingers of hers, leaving a blazing trail at every area of flesh that she touched.
As the scene replayed in Vincent's mind, felt that familiar tightening in his pyjama bottoms.
One thing however was certain: he had to have another taste of his little assistant.
Imani shook her umbrella violently outside before she stepped back into the house, Marco stepping in after her. The two had met up after he had texted her to come and pick him up from Starbucks.
Marco ran a hand through his damp unruly curls as Imani hung up her coat. "This weather is no joke." He expressed. She nodded in agreement, grimacing at how her shoes were fairly wet and muddy.
"You can say that again."
"Where's my dearest cousin? I'm surprised you haven't ripped his head off yet." He joked. "I'm guessing you're at each other's throats all the time so far?"
She gulped and laughed nervously. "Y-yep!" Imani led the two into the living room where Marco jumped on the sofa, making himself comfortable as he stretched his long limbs. "Marco you're going to get everything wet with your hair!" She exclaimed, making him shoot up. "Hold on, let me get you a towel. Do you know where they're kept?"
Marco shrugged, whipping his phone out from the back of his dark blue jeans. "Ask Vincent."
Imani hesitated as she ascended the stairs. How would she communicate with him following what happened between them the previous day?
Their employer-employee relationship was quite skewed now.
Now that she knew what he tasted like, what his body felt like and how he felt against her - it wouldn't be the same.
Bracing herself on the wall beside his slightly open door, she counted to ten, willing herself to go in there and get out quickly. She was preparing to enter when she heard what sounded like a gruff pant.
Intrigued, she decided to peek inside. Her eyes bulged open and her fingers stilled as she saw Vincent with his hand firmly on his hard length, stroking himself to completion. His eyes were shut and his mouth slightly parted. She couldn't help but gape at the size.
Imani put a hand to her heart. She couldn't tear herself away from the door. The sight was not only exciting her but it was making her extremely hot. Her cheeks were burning and her toes were curled as if it was her reaching her climax.
His pants quickly turned into groans. Groans that had Imani edging closer and closer to the room. She wanted to storm in there and beg him to turn her dream into reality but she held herself back. As she gripped her shirt tightly, one hand gently trailing lower and lower.
Vincent's hand moved faster along his engorged member, Imani's breath shortening.
"Imani... shit."
Hearing her name tumble from his mouth in such a moment, her breath caught in her throat and she stumbled away from the door, backing into something hard and warm. Imani gasped as Marco held onto her shoulders. She whirled around and he looked at her in concern. "Did you ask him about the towels?"
Hesitating and fumbling for words, Imani couldn't think. "Imani? The towels - did you ask him?"
The door to Vincent's room suddenly opened, revealing Vincent with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips as if he had swung it on quickly.
She couldn't look at him. Not after what she had seen. Not with the heat and wetness she was now dealing with in her jeans.
"Is there a problem?" He asked, his voice still quite raspy. Imani noticed a small bead of sweat on his forehead and her eyes travelled lower, zoning in on the area that his hand was grabbing onto earlier. "Marco?"
"Yeah, where do you keep your towels? My beautiful mane is wet."
Vincent stepped out, opened a nearby door with shelves of towels and threw one at him. "I didn't realise it was raining."
"Uh-huh. It's a wonder how I got so wet and Imani didn't. She's completely dry." She couldn't lift her eyes up to meet Vincent's. She was the furthest thing from dry. "That's all I wanted. You coming down anytime soon?"
"When I'm ready to come down, I will Marco." He said sharply, making his cousin raise his hands innocently as he backed away and left.
Not wanting to be left on her own with him and needing to get herself cleaned up, Imani moved to leave when she felt an iron grip on her arm.
Vincent took a step towards her as she turned to look at him, not quite meeting his eyes. He bent down towards her ear. "The next time you want to spy on me, do try and be a bit quieter." Her mouth dropped and she tried to rack her brain for a reply.
"I wasn't spying." She answered, squaring her back and lifting her chin.
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Oh? Then what do you call what you were doing?"
She shrugged out of his hold, willing her eyes not to go any lower and hoping and praying that the towel stayed exactly where it was. "I needed to ask you where the towels were and when I noticed that you were... busy, I decided to wait."
"Right in front of the door where you could see everything?" She blushed, running out of words to say. "I think you need to go and freshen up." He said abruptly and Imani's face twisted.
"Do I stink or something?"
She tried to slyly smell her armpits when he turned to return to his bedroom. "No but judging by the way you were breathing by the door - I'm sure you're not as dry as my cousin thinks you are." He quipped as he shut the door in her face.
In complete and utter embarrassment, she groaned. "Cocky little asshole." She muttered under her breath as she stomped into the bathroom.
"Ooh! Imani Forde, you nasty ass-." Imani hurried to cover Melisa's mouth that was pulled into a grin. After a few moments, she removed her hand, sighing in the process of doing so. Melisa stared at her, her eyes dancing with amusement. She bit her lip, trying to hold in everything she wanted to say.
Imani rolled her eyes and gestured with her hand. "Go on, then."
"So you saw him naked?! Doing that? Saying your name? How long did you look for? Was it anything impressive?" Melisa fired question after question after question as Imani ate her lunch. Once she had freshened up, she felt as if she needed to get out of the house. She couldn't stay in there with images of her naked boss stuck in her mind.
So she had called Melisa and asked to meet for an early lunch, spilling her guts about everything that had happened within the past few days. "I'm not answering any of that. That's my boss, Melisa."
"Exactly, that's your boss. So what are you going to do?"
She tapped her fingers against the table, lifting one shoulder. "I know what I want to do but what I want to do isn't what I should do." She admitted. After a long silence, she spoke up. "Should I quit?"
"What? No. No, no and no. You can't quit just because it got a little hot and heavy between you and your Italian stallion boss."
"But it's unprofessional. It's unethical. What will people think?"
Melisa chewed casually on her deli. "No one has to know if you want to bang your boss - that's your business, sweetheart."
"I didn't say I wanted to-."
"Believe me, you didn't have to."