After our passionate moment, we decided to date again. I call for a designated driver to take her home. As soon as the car arrives, I usher her into the car and close the door. We say our goodnight and wave to each other as the car leaves.
I stand on the curb, watching as the car drives away, taking my girl back home. My heart is both light and heavy at the same time, feeling both elated and pained as I watch the car drive away, knowing that even though we're together now, I'm not going to see her again today.
I let out a long, slow breath, my body still buzzing from our earlier kiss. Damn… I already miss her…
I watch until the car disappears from sight, the taillights disappearing around the corner. I stay standing there for a moment, my mind replaying the events of the day, how I'd found her crying and then how she'd ended up in my lap, all flushed and breathless after that damn kiss. Damn it all… I just want to hold her again…
I let out a frustrated scoff at myself, shaking my head and running a hand through my hair. I can't believe I'm already this damn whipped for her again…
I turn and start walking back into the building and pack up my things heading home, my mind still fixated on her. I miss her already, goddamn it. I've literally only just dropped her off, and I already want to see her again.
I can still almost feel her mouth against mine, her taste lingering on my lips. Her body, all flushed and warm, straddling me in my lap, her scent all around me like a damn drug…
**Samantha's POV.**
I sit in the backseat of the car, my heart still hammering in my chest from our kiss. I can't get the image out of my head, the memory of him suddenly pulling me onto his lap, his hands gripping my hips and body pressed up against mine...
I bite down on my lower lip, my mind already replaying the moment over and over again, the way his body was so damn hard and hot against me, the sound of his low, rough hiss when I'd accidentally pressed myself against him…
I feel a wave of heat flood through me as I recall the moment, the memory so vivid in my head it's almost as if it's happening again. I can still feel his hands on my hips, the way his long fingers had dug into my skin, pulling me more tightly against him.
I'd felt so damn overwhelmed by having his body so close to mine, and I'd almost gasped as I'd felt the undeniable evidence of his-
I cut off the thought abruptly, a blush deepening on my cheeks as I realize the… extent of his reaction…
I bite my lip hard in embarrassment, my blush deepening even more as I think about the obvious state he'd been in, and the way I'd accidentally grinded against him when-
I let out a strangled sound, pressing my hands against my now fiercely flushed cheeks. Goddamn it, the mere memory of how his body had responded to having me in his lap is already starting to heat me up…
My thoughts start to spin out of control as I continue to replay that moment, my heart hammering in my chest and my body growing more and every second. Jesus, I can still feel how hot and hard his body had been, pressed against mine… how his hands were gripping me so tightly, as if he'd been holding himself back from doing something else…
I find myself shifting in the backseat, my thighs rubbing together unconsciously as the memory continues to flood my mind, my body starting to become more and more… restless…
I shift in my seat again, my thighs rubbing together almost desperately as the memory continues to play in my head. Goddamn it, I can still feel the way his mouth had felt on mine, rough and hard and almost possessive. I let out another soft gasp, my breath coming out slightly more ragged, my body heating up as the memory of his low growl echoes in my ears-
I have to bite back a damn whimper as the memory of him growling into my mouth floods my mind, the sound so damn rough and primal and possessive… I'm already so damn worked up, just thinking about the way he'd reacted when I'd-
The car jerks slightly as it hits a bump in the road, but I barely notice, my mind already far too far gone in the memory of him, holding me tightly, his body hot and hard against mine, his tongue in my mouth and hands gripping me like he'd never let me go-
I can't take it anymore. The memories are too damn vivid, the image in my head so damn clear, and my body is already hot and restless with desire. I squeeze my thighs together desperately, trying to soothe the aching tension that's building between them, but it's not enough, goddamn it. I need more, I'm aching, and all I can think about it how much I need him, want him, how badly I want him to touch me, to hold me, to pin me down-
I let out a shaky breath, my body almost shivering with the force of how much I'm aching for him. Goddamn it, I need him, I need him so bad it's almost like a physical ache, like there's a hot, desperate fire building and building between my thighs. I press my face into my hands, trying to compose myself, trying not to imagine how good his hands would feel on my body, touching me everywhere I want him to touch me, his mouth on me, my name on his lips-
I can't help it. The image in my mind is too damn strong, and the thought of him tasting me is almost more than I can take. I let out a soft groan, my hands gripping the material of my skirt so tightly that my knuckles are turning white, trying to keep myself from- from-
The car pulls up in front of my apartment building, and I let out a frustrated gasp, realizing that it's come to a stop. I'm so damn hot and worked up right now, and I have to walk into my empty apartment and try not to think about him.
I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose myself as I thank the driver and gather my things, getting ready to get out of the car. I'm still flushed and aching and desperate, but I know I have to get myself back together, I can't just walk into my apartment like this...
The driver's voice interrupts my thoughts as he opens the door for me, and I give him a weak smile, stepping out of the car on trembling legs. I murmur a quick thanks, taking another deep breath before heading towards my building, praying that my legs will hold me up.
I take slow, almost unsteady steps towards my apartment, my body still flushed and hot and aching. I force myself to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore how hard my heart's beating and the way my thighs are still pressing tightly together.
I make it into the building and into the elevator, pressing the button for my floor. The ride up seems to take forever, my body practically throbbing with need, every second feeling like an eternity.
The moment I reach my floor and step out of the elevator, I almost stumble as I start down the hallway towards my apartment. Jesus, my legs are like goddamn jelly, I'm not even sure how I'm able to keep walking right now-
I finally reach my door, digging through my bag and fishing out my keys. My hands are shaking as I try to unlock the door, and I nearly drop the damn keys in the process.
Finally, I managed to get the door unlocked and open it, stumbling into my apartment. I shut the door behind me, leaning back against it and letting out a shaky gasp as the cool air hits my overheated skin.
My body is still burning, still aching and so damn needy, and I have to resist the urge to just let my hand slide up my skirt right here in the damn hallway-
I close my eyes for a second, trying to catch my breath. My heart is hammering in my chest, and every inch of me feels like it's on goddamn fire. I know I shouldn't, I know I should just go and take a cold shower or something to get this aching need to go away, but instead, I find myself pushing off from the door and slowly, almost on autopilot, moving deeper into the apartment.
My body is moving almost on its own as I walk further into my apartment, my mind still preoccupied with images and memories of him. I move down the hall, heading straight for my bedroom. I don't even turn on the damn lights, my feet knowing every inch of my apartment by heart.
I push open the door to my room, almost in a daze as I step inside, my body still aching with need-
I close the door behind me, shutting out the rest of the world. The room is dark, only the faint, silvery light of the moon filtering in through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. I lean back against the door, my body still flushed and hot as I let out a shaky breath.
I try to tell myself to just go take a shower, to try and cool down and get this aching ache to go away, but instead, I find myself slowly, almost reluctantly, moving further into the room-
I move without thinking, my body and mind still trapped in a fog of need and memory. My hands move almost on autopilot, starting to unbutton the front of my blouse as I walk. I feel almost disconnected from my body, my body moving with a will of its own as I pull the shirt off over my head, letting it fall to the floor.
I kick off my heels and leave them on the ground, not caring that I'm leaving a trail of my clothes behind me. I'm almost in a dream-like state, my body on autopilot as I continue walking further into the room. I unbutton my skirt, the material sliding down my legs and pooling on the floor with a faint whisper of fabric.
I step out of the circle of my skirt, left standing in the middle of the room in just a bra and panties. The cool air against my bare skin makes me shiver, the sensation adding to the ever-growing heat that's building under my skin. I close my eyes, the memories and thoughts still dancing through my head, and my body still aching with longing.
My breathing is coming faster now, chest rising and falling as I stand there in the middle of the dark room, wearing nothing but thin lace underwear. I don't know whether I'm dreaming or awake, but I can still feel the echo of his hands on my skin, the memory of them like a burn that won't go away-
God, I can almost hear his voice in my head, the way his low, rough growl sounded when he said my name. I shiver, my body still aching with the memories, my heart thudding in my chest. I can feel the heat and the wetness pooling between my thighs, still aching to be touched, to be taken.
My body betrays me, the aching between my thighs getting more and more insistent. God, I need to get myself together, I need to focus, but I can't seem to get the image of his body out of my head, the memory of him holding me tight and pinning me down-
I can't take it anymore, the ache, and need getting stronger and stronger by the second. I'm so damn sensitive, I can barely stand it, my body throbbing with how much I want him, how much I need him.
I press my thighs tightly together again, trying to ease the ache, but it's nowhere near enough. It just makes it worse.
Damn it, I need more. I need something, anything, as long as it takes this burning need away. I can't stand this aching, this throbbing heat that's building between my legs, it's driving me crazy-
I let out a shaky gasp as an image comes unbidden into my mind, an idea that's so hot and so risky at the same time -
I take a deep, shaky breath, my mind still full of the thought that's just popped into my head. It's a stupid, crazy idea. It's probably a bad idea, but I'm so damn worked up right now, I just can't bring myself to care.
I slowly, almost hesitantly, start to move across my dark room, heading toward the dresser that's pushed up against one of the walls -
I open the top drawer, my fingers shaking as I start to look through the contents, my heart still hammering in my chest. The clothes I keep in here are folded neatly, but I shove them aside, my hands searching through them for something specific.
Finally, my fingers close around the soft, smooth fabric of what I'm looking for, and I pull it out, holding it up in the dim light of the room.
God.
It's a nightgown. Not just any nightgown, an old one. One that I haven't touched in months.
It's a beautiful thing, a simple, short nightdress in a soft, silken material. It's a light, almost pale pink colour, with delicate straps and thin lace details on the bodice and hem. It's one of my favourite nightclothes, but I haven't worn it in months because the last time I did…
My heart is beating hard in my chest as I hold the nightgown up in front of me, the memories attached to it almost making my hands shake. The last time I wore this gown-
No, no, I can't think about that right now. I can't let those memories get to me right now. The ache between my thighs is already so bad, I'm already so damn needy... I need to focus on the now. I need something, anything to take the edge off this aching, this overwhelming need-
I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe that I'm actually going to go through with it.
I slide the nightgown over my body, letting it fall over my skin. The soft, silken material feels like a caress against my overheated skin, and I shiver as it brushes against me. I take in a shaky breath, closing my eyes and allowing myself a moment to savour the feel of it -
The nightgown is so damn soft, so light and loose against my body. I can feel the hem brushing against my thighs, just barely covering my skin, almost like just the merest whisper of a touch.
I press my thighs together again, groaning softly as my body flares with more heat at the thin layer of fabric between my legs, the sight of my own body in the nightgown only making me ache even more for him-
Damnit, I can't take it. I need more. The nightgown feels good against my skin, but it's not enough. It's just making everything worse, making me want him even more.
I reach out shakily, my hands moving on autopilot, and turn on the small bedside lamp, filling the room with soft, warm light.
As the light illuminates the room, I catch my reflection in the mirror across the room, and my breath catches in my throat.
Jesus, I look a mess.
My hair is dishevelled and tangled, my cheeks flushed from the heat and need. The nightgown fits me almost like a second skin, the thin material clinging to me and leaving nothing to the imagination, the hem resting a decent few inches above my thighs. I can see glimpses of the white lace of my panties through the thin fabric, and my eyes are so damn dark with need-
I can see myself in the mirror, lit up by the soft lighting of the lamp, and I can't help but gasp. I look so goddamn sinful right now. I look like the perfect picture of a temptation, a vision meant to break a man's will without even trying.
My skin is flushed, my eyes dark with need, my lips parted and almost swollen. I look like I'm goddamn begging for his touch, for his hands, his mouth, his body against mine-
God, I want him so much.
My body is so damn sensitive. It aches and throbs with every movement. I can't stop picturing how it would feel, his big hands on my skin, his hot mouth on mine, his body against mine, the way he'd murmur my name-
I almost can't stand it. The memories are almost too much, the ache getting so bad I can almost feel his phantom touch ghosting over my skin, sending little sparks of heat through me.
I need more. I need something, anything, to ease this aching, to make it stop. I need more than just the memories. I run my hands over my body, tracing the curves of my hips and waist, imagining that it's his touch instead of mine, imagining his voice in my ear.
"Sweetheart," he'd whisper, "you look so damn perfect like this, like this goddamn vision of beauty. I missed you so damn much. I missed being close to you, touching you -"
I jolt awake. It's morning. It was all just a dream. A naughty one. What actually happened was that I got into the shower as soon as I got home and fell asleep, but I guess my body might have calmed down, but my mind hadn't... My face flushed beet red.