Page 62 of Risks of Temptation
11
Emilia
Something is shifting in me.My sudden interest in putting myself in a dangerous position surprises me, but life courses through my veins instead of the usual anxiety I feel.
Maybe it's Malin's fault. As I've sat on his erection, trying not to squirm as it hardens, inhaling limes and leather, the need to experience things I haven't before creates a throbbing in parts of me I didn't know were still alive.
My past experience made me believe Zaka stole everything from me regarding relationships and sex.
I had a good friend once. I was in my early twenties. He was a sweet guy and wanted me, faults and all. We became good friends, and I trusted him enough to try and have sex.
I couldn't do it. Even he made my skin crawl. I kept pushing through it, but I freaked out on him, and he had to stop when he was only halfway in me.
Our friendship ended soon after. I was embarrassed. He took it personally. I attempted to date a few times after that but could never get past kissing anyone. No one could touch me in any intimate way without me hating it.
The craving I have to be like other women and have a relationship full of passion and intimacy hasn't diminished. But I've trained myself to be realistic. It's just not in the cards for me.
Now, with Malin, I wonder if it's possible.
Something about his underworld sounds dangerously sexy. I know it's wrong for me to think that, but what if I could help him? Then my life would be worth something.
Surely women play some role in this evil organization?
He leans into my ear and says something in French. His tongue flicks against my lobe, and I inhale sharply as zings ricochet down my spine. Every time he speaks French, my lower region pulses and my nipples tingle.
I want to be a sexy woman whom he can't resist, not this naive woman.
Be brave.
I push my chin out and, in Spanish, say, "I want to have sex with you."
He freezes. His hot breath hits my neck. It's an inferno compared to the night air. "I don't know Spanish, ma belle. But sexo sounds like sex to me."
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.
I move my face in front of his and attempt a sexy expression. "It does."
The gray in his eyes turns light blue. His cock twitches beneath me, and I grind against it. His chest rises and falls faster, and he laces his fingers in my hair, palming my head. "How many men have you been with, ma belle?"
My cheeks singe. I bite my lip.
"I want to know," he quietly says.
Be a woman, not a little girl.
My insides quiver, and I stop moving my lower body on him. "Zaka and one other guy in my twenties. But I had to stop."
His face hardens. "Zaka doesn't count. It wasn't your choice, and you were a child."
I turn away, but he forces me back. "This other guy...he was your age?"
I nod.
"Then you've not been with a real man?"
"No," I whisper.
His erection pulses against my clit that's dying to feel what he gave me earlier in the river.
