Page 81 of Nemesync
Honestly, men in our world should find other pastimes other than sex and orgies.
A guard is in front of the room, leaving part of the door slightly ajar to make sure everything was okay inside. Zanae was already removing her skirt and part of her corset when I entered.
My fucking Zanae, almost naked for me.
She’s only in lingerie now—a black top and black panties.
She is stunning and she’s pretending so well. She knows a man is checking if everything is okay, and she continues the act. And I have to play along in this dangerous game.
That’s the smart ass I love hating.
Alone in a room where she’s supposed to give me a lap dance and a striptease? I never thought this mission would turn toward this kind of activity, but I’m not complaining.
I sit on the large red armchair. And she just sits on my lap. Music is blasting in this room. The lights are reddish, and she’s on top of me.
Fuck me.
“I’ve never done this, so just pretend to enjoy it,” she whispers, hesitant.
If only she only knew how much even her gaze turns me on. Her eyes widen as she feels what this friction has caused to my body, having a fucking hard-on.
“I guess you don’t have to pretend to enjoy it. I thought you couldn’t stand the thought of being drawn to sell one like me?” She says smirking.
I love seeing that fire in her eyes.
Unconsciously, she inches closer, and I feel her grinding against me. I lean in, holding her by the nape of her neck.
“I suppose the fact that I can feel you rubbing against my dick proves you don’t have to pretend to enjoy it either?”
She winks at me and whispers, “It’s only for the show, Elijah.” And starts her dance.
I spread my arms on either side of the chair, grinning.
Let the show begin, I guess.
She grabs onto my neck and sways her hips from side to side, making circles on me. Her head falls backward, and her hair brushes against my thighs. She exposes her neck, long and pale, ready for me to bruise it with my tongue and teeth.
The only thing I want to do is mark it, just to remind her who she has always belonged to, even without knowing it.
She lifts her head and our eyes lock. Her beautiful black hair covers her shoulders, her eyes sparkle, and her mouth is slightly open.
“Why did you kill him?” She asks, curious.
“I hate disrespect, and I saw your eyes Zanae, you would’ve done it if you could.”
“Since when do you care about my feelings Elijah?”
“Since a long time ago, Miss Dellé, but even more since we started working together on this stupid project, and I find myself here, making you come without doing anything of my own.”
She looks at me intensely, understanding that ever since she started, she has been unconsciously rubbing herself against me. And it kills me to resist the urge to fuck her mindlessly in the dirtiest way possible right now.
I draw her closer and press her forehead against mine as she continues to rub against me more and more vigorously, “Do you know what I want to do to you when you look at me like that? I want to fuck all this insolence out of you. I want to ruin you and show you what I feel through this. I want to make you cry and hear you scream. To see your legs tremble and bruises and marks form on your flesh because of what I’ll do to you. I need you to crave me as much as I do, more than anything.” I plant her harder on me, because my body needs her as much as I do.
“Do it, Elijah,” she says before coming all over my pants. I can feel her thighs tightening around mine, her head dropping onto my shoulder as she releases a long breath.
Damn her.
She moves closer to my ear, holding my neck tightly and gradually caressing the back of my nape and the base of my hair with her fingertips. “Do it because I’m tired of having to do everything alone,” she says with a fucking smile, digging her nails into my skin. “And if you hate me so much, try not to have an erection when I’m on top of you. I interpret it differently.”
