we leave the city.
A quick glance around tells me the nearest passengers are several rows away. “I thought about you at work today. It’s a wonder I didn’t take my cock in my hand as I pictured you,” I say, throwing down the fucking gauntlet.
Her eyes widen; her breath hitches. “Did you think about what you would do to me on the train?”
Hello, fantasy.
“There are so many things I want to do to you on this train,” I rasp out, wrapping my hand tighter around her thigh.
Her chest rises and falls.
Her shoulders shudder.
Her cheeks flush.
And we’re pretending.
But we’re not pretending at all.
Not one bit.
9
Scarlett
I imagine this is who we are. We are newlyweds escaping from Paris, getting away for a week. A week where we won’t even leave the bedroom. Satin sheets will be tangled, hands and bodies will collide, and fantasies will play out over and over again in a hotel room.
There is no question that right now I am this woman. This woman who’s incredibly turned on by her new husband.
So turned on she can’t even wait.
I don’t want to wait.
I want to indulge in every single second with him.
With my pretend lover on the train in the dark.
I invite him to continue traveling. Continue taking that sensual journey up my thigh. I spread my legs a little more, giving him more room to roam, but mostly giving him the signal to keep going.
That’s exactly what he does. His hand glides up my thigh, the fabric of my dress sliding along with it, revealing more of my skin.
His fingers are on a slow, tantalizing course for my hot, wet center.
He’s mere inches away. I push my back against the seat, my head pressing into the cushion, my chest arching.
We’re doing this. Oh dear God, we’re doing this.
A noise climbs up my throat, dances across my lips. It falls across them. But it’s louder than I would like.
He leans closer, his nose against my neck. “Darling, can you be quiet if I take you there right now? If I take you there right here on the train, can you be quiet? I don’t want anyone else to hear you.”
Can I be quiet?
The question means so much more. The question is about so much more than silence and skills.
What he’s really asking is . . . Can I touch you?
Can I get you off?
Can I make you come on the train when we’re ten minutes away from our stop?
I have no plans to say no.
I turn toward him, my cheek against his stubbled jaw. Then I pull back the slightest bit, my lips nearly grazing his. “Quiet me with your lips,” I tell him, uttering a seductive command.
One that gives him all the permission he could ever seek.
But I don’t stop there. I’m playing my part. And it feels so good to be this woman.
It’s freeing.
I shed my daytime self, sliding into a woman I no longer let myself be. A naughty, hungry woman. “Remember what you did to me at the restaurant the other night? I was too noisy. And you kept me quiet by kissing me ferociously. The only thing that kept me quiet enough was your lips,” I say, inventing a story.
“Dear God,” he rumbles, sounding filthy, sounding aroused. “I remember that perfectly. I was like iron in my trousers the whole time. I wanted to fuck you.” He picks up the narrative, telling the tale of our lust so seamlessly. “Wanted to take you out of that restaurant, steal around the corner to that little passage, push you up against the wall, put your leg around my waist, and fuck you hard right there.”
My body is on fire. My brain is electric. I ache for him. “I wanted that too. I wanted that raw roughness, and I loved everything you gave me. How you made me be quiet.” I lick my lips. “With your mouth.”
He slides his nose along my neck again, reaching my ear, licking the shell. “I’m going to do that again right now, love.”
All my fantasies of my business partner, of us together, are coming true as he kisses me for the first time. On the train. After dark. In between here and there.
He’s sweet at first, his lips brushing over mine, his tongue flicking open the seam of my lips.
It’s tender and lush.
It’s passionate and lingering.
I want to groan and moan and cry out. I want to let him know what he’s doing to my body.
Nerve endings are sparking. Electricity is flowing.
Hot,