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Two Strangers at an English Villa [m20s/f30s] [cozy] [charming] [seduction]
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ilovereading555 is in seduction
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An excerpt from my story, "Once Upon a Windswept Sea"

The room was so small that it could only be called a room on the internet. The door slammed into the bed, then there was about a foot of space, and a desk. A desk that could hold a postcard. The window above it had been painted shut. 

Carina settled onto the bed. She patted the mattress next to her, a habit she had developed since joining an online dating site and venturing into rooms with men she didn’t really want to sleep with. She stopped the gesture when she realized this.  

George lit a candle. He wanted to know what her lips tasted like. Whether they tasted like chocolate, whether her tongue would be nutty. If he would find cream between her legs. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, coming to sit beside her on the bed. 

She was primed by his politeness, and took his cheek in her hand. It was rough. This was also in his contract.

She scratched her nails along the stubble, and brought her chin to his. 

“You can kiss me,” she whispered.

Almost before the words were out of her mouth, he lunged for her. He was like a wind-up toy that hadn’t been played with for ages. She was desperate for a touch that wasn’t failure or defeat. He fondled her breasts, raked his hands through her hair. She did taste like chocolate. He didn’t know that this was the truffle she had sneaked into her mouth while coming up the stairs; it was a habit she had, not to finish a meal without desert. 

“God,” he mumbled, drinking her in, and she knew that she wanted his young cock, the length of which she could feel straining against her thigh. She wanted him, hot and urgent. She wanted him to find relief. 

Her ex, Cameron, had been on antidepressants. He hadn’t been able to feel a thing.

George was enamored with her breasts.  

At her urging, he had taken them in his mouth, first one, then the other, and it was the succor with which she had wished people would enjoy her bread. As if their life depended on it. As if they had never tasted anything so delicious. 

George worshiped her breasts. They were lava-covered by the time he was done with them, soaked in his spit, which made her wet between the legs. 

She urged him there, taking his penis, which was still covered by his pants, in her hands, and directing it to her very warm oven. 

“Not yet,” he said, and lowered his head, so that she understood: he would feast. 

“Can I?” he asked, and in response, she spread further, so that a whiff of it reached his nose. He couldn’t imagine a more enticing smell.

“Perfect,” he said, when he has finished eating.

She had come, a small orgasm, as if her body was saving room for more. 

“You don’t know me,” she could not resist.

It was a taunt, like punching dough so it would double in size.

George hardened. 

He knew that she liked the sight of stars. He knew that she dreamed dreams long enough to see them through. He knew she had had her heart broken, and this he was set to remedy. He would prove to her that she was the most scrumptious treat.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” was his response.

Because he wasn’t afraid. 

He wasn’t afraid of her, or of himself. 

In seeing her, he had glimpsed himself, and in tasting her, he was satisfied.

Carina liked his dirty talk, this edge she had not guessed. She wished that he would bind her wrists and flip her onto her tummy, and fuck her the way she most liked: in repose.

As if reading her mind, George took her hands, from where they were grasping his hair, and raised them over her head, sucking on one of her breasts again before saying, “turn over,” in a kind of grumble she had always longed to hear.

“Are you ready?” he asked, kissing her cheek in a pert way that was unnecessary. 

“Yes,” she breathed. 

“Say you want me.” 

This was icing on the cake for him, a boost to his ego that he really did need. 

“I want--augh!” 

The noise she made, a strangled sound, was in response to his fingers circling her clit. 

“Say it,” he said again, and she worried that if she didn’t, she would explode.

“I want you.” 

Her voice came out small and mouse-like. It flattered him. He felt big, for once, a man who was used to hiding.

He pushed into her, entering the way a gentleman docks his boat: with great care for the waves. With awareness of the water, which was wet. Like her.

He whispered this into her ear, about how wet she was, and Carina came almost without realizing it. She came without meaning to, without strain. It was all him. He was giving this to her, this orgasm, and she couldn’t have avoided it if she tried. 

She cried out, and he kissed her tenderly on her neck, loving her hips, the meat of them, the way he could anchor there without fear of retribution. He fucked her as if there were a right and wrong, and she was very right. 

He fucked her and she opened for him and she came, again and again. He frosted her with when the time came, and she licked it from her fingers, scraping the bowl of her body as if with a spoon. 

<3 <3 Thanks for reading! You can load me up with cheap red wine by subscribing to my Substack or checking out my e-book! <3 <3 XO, Sadie

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