I finally appraise myself in the mirror, smoky eyed make-up, and full red lips flawless. Killer blush on my
perfectly made up face. My see-through under dress over black lace lingerie which has pushed and
perked everything up. High cut lines and seductive contouring making my body look awesome. I topped
it all off with lace edge top black stockings, suspenders, and a look on my face of pure unadulterated
lust.
I slide my feet into the black stilettos I take everywhere, like a security blanket; and spritz perfume on
across my bulging cleavage. This underwear does me wonders so I spill seductively, straining breasts
above the low cut of the dress and I bronze between them to enhance them some more.
Can always use a little extra help.
The panties are a thong that shows clearly under the shimmering dress, everything made for seduction
and I’m mighty pleased with myself.
Look at you go, girl.
I pick up my phone with a smile. I’ve been up here for about an hour and a half now, there isn’t much
time before dinner tonight. Most of the company get changed into formal attire to eat, according to
Sylvana. So, if I ask him to come zip me up then he will just assume I’m dressing for dinner. I text him
and wait, standing in the center of the room, my blonde hair extra wild and falling over one eye, one
hand on my hip as I pose.
I need your assistance in zipping up my dress for dinner, and your opinion as to whether I’m
underdressed. xxx
My dress for dinner is laid across the bed and if I fail at my before dinner seduction then it will easily
pull over what I’m wearing, leaving him a clear image throughout the meal. The dress for dinner is one
of his favorites, classy, black, and tight. I’m betting on succeeding and skipping dinner altogether
though.
He walks in after a few minutes, adjusting a cufflink and pauses, faced with me standing sexily, legs
apart and hands on hips, jutting out my bust toward him with a look of ‘fuck me’ on my face. He regards
me up and down, slowly, and physically changes into immediate apprehension as I see the confidence
waver in his eye. I’ve at least thrown him, so I give myself brownie points for that. He moves past me,
his eyes unable to tear free, saying nothing but goes and picks my dress off the bed and holds it out to
me at a distance. His face is such a picture of confusion it makes me inwardly smile.
“Maybe I need help putting it on.” I bite my lip seductively and his mouth parts in response, he sighs
heavily. Those green eyes are dark and heavy, he can’t conceal his longing from me.
Casanova Carrero where have you gone?
He looks almost nervous, like a tongue-tied teen. I’m waiting on him, starting to fumble with the dress,
he looks ready to combust. He’s never met overly sexual and forward Emma. I’m kind of liking her.
Was it really only five minutes ago that all sex abhorred me, and I kept everyone at a firm distance?
Look at me now.
“Sure.” He swallows hard and opens up the dress to find the shoulders, he holds it up, looking how to
drape it on me. He’s already changed into a dark shirt and pants, looking devastating as always with
freshly styled hair and I wonder when he came in here to get a change of clothes. Possibly when I was
showering.
He walks forward, lowering the dress so he can hold it open for me to step into, his eyes skimming me
achingly as he pulls it up my body and over the tight mesh dress, keeping his hands away from
touching me.
He doesn’t trust himself to touch me. Strike two.
It’s only being this close that I can hear his breathing is a lot shallower than normal, his eyes fully
dilated and almost ripping my clothes off mentally. I give myself a little internal applause. Leaning
forward smoothly as he gets to face height, I open my lips mere millimeters from him, seeing him stop.
He doesn’t move just waits, anticipating my kiss. Eyes heavily focused on my mouth, every muscle in
his face pausing and waiting and that overwhelming lust radiating from his expression. I tilt my head,
breathe on his soft mouth gently and linger achingly close, inhaling him and heating up with his
closeness. It makes me ache so badly and my fingers are almost itching to touch him. I swear he holds
his breath for a moment, his head moving forward a touch as his desire to kiss me grows. I pull away
with a smile.
“Don’t want to ruin my lipstick.” I feign innocence, basking in the furrow of his brow as he pulls the
dress the rest of the way up with attitude. His eyes narrow and he spins me, zipping me up a little
forcefully and smacking me hard on my ass.
“Ouch.” I yelp and move away from him quickly. The storm starts brewing in the delicious face and I
can see his body stiffening, muscles tensing.
“Dinner is going to be interesting.” He growls huskily, and I can tell I have more than thrown him, he’s
possibly about to self-implode. “Sure, you don’t just want to sign the contract, and admit defeat,
bambino?” He moves close to me this time, his mouth even closer than I dared. I shake my head as I
watch him, eyes locking with mine, his hand trails up my leg lazily, skimming the tight dress until he
grazes my breast and ignites the usual sizzling response in me. His hand, feather light, makes its way
to my jaw until I’m almost breathless with its journey. He pulls me forward for the softest kiss of my life,
his lips barely brushing mine, moving into me further, teasing and grazing. His hand grazes along my
jaw softly as his other comes to cup the other side. Soft and sensual kissing that’s so in contrast to
every signal he’s sending off right now.
Moving deeper into my mouth, he teases my lips open with the sheer strength of seduction, he kisses
me gently, easing in slowly to a more passionate motion. His tongue slipping across my bottom lip and
tentatively touching mine. As kisses go, he’s never hit me with the expertise of this make out session.
This is a different kind of assault, a new tactic with sheer softness. Within minutes he has me fully
wrapped around him, dragging his arms to me to try and push the kiss further, completely panting at
how much he’s turned me on in a matter of seconds. Still locked together, tongues still caressing, and
lips molded together. I am so close to surrender. If he had a pen, I would sign the contract while still
being kissed this way. Jake knows exactly how to weaken me, he doesn’t even need words or his body,
he could always do it with a kiss.
Realizing that is exactly his plan, I pull away sharply, heaving in air and trying to steady myself against
him. He sucks in his bottom lip seductively, eyeing me with satisfaction, tasting me and smiles upon
releasing it. His mouth stained with my red color.
“Your lipstick tastes good … Pity it now looks pretty fucked-up.” He lets go of me the way you would
drop a piece of trash and smirks before walking off toward the door. That look of strike two on his face
and I internally rage. Turning to the mirror faced the mess of my mouth and grit my teeth. This is
because I refused to kiss him on grounds of my lipstick and now it’s so smeared and smudged, I have
no alternative but to wipe it off and start again, or just go without. He’s made a mess of all of my make-
up around my mouth. He grabs for tissues as he leaves, wiping off the berry shade evidence of his
assault, with a whistle and a slight bounce to his walk. I just played right into his hands for the second
time.
Asshole! He’s just too damned good at this!
My inner strength kicks in, aware he had me so close to giving in and he didn’t even know it. Well, that
was my one weak moment and from now on, I am going to strengthen my resolve. If he’s playing dirty,
then I have every intention of playing dirty too. Fight fire with fire.
* * *
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