He saw the way she couldn’t stop staring, and Acheron’s lips curved ever so slightly. “Who would’ve thought…the prim and proper Miss Pippilotta Jones—” Her name, uttered in a sensual purr, had her shuddering, and his eyes gleamed. “Would have a fetish for men in uniform…”
She gasped. “I d-do not!” But the blush that swept over her cheeks gave her away, and Acheron smirked.
“You’re a surprisingly bad girl, Ms. Jones.”
“I’m n-not.” And yet her toes actually curled at the accusation, and she could only wonder dazedly if maybe it was what he had said, and she was a bad girl.
She watched him slowly come towards her, and her breath hitched.
“I’m afraid I can’t take your word for it, Ms. Jones.”
“I’ll need to give you a thorough inspection, make sure you don’t have anything dangerous on you.”
Her eyes widened as the meaning of his words became clear. She started to protest, but by then he had already closed the distance between them, and the next thing she knew, it was truly happening, and Acheron Simonides was frisking her like she was America’s #1 Most Wanted.
Her body buckled as his fingers came into contact with her skin, and desire-darkened eyes held hers captive as strong hands ran down her sides ever so slowly.
Her body sagged against the wall.
Who knew frisking could ever be so shamefully pleasurable?
She bit her lip hard, her gaze helplessly clinging to Acheron’s uniformed figure as he crouched down while his hands continued its damnably leisurely pace, tracing the curve of her hips and all the way down to her ankles.
And then he started back up again, and she bit back a whimper at the thought of having to endure another whole cycle of his touch. It was maddening and addictive, and by the time he had risen to his full height, his fingers had paused at the undersides of her breasts, and it was all she could do not to scream.
“I’ll need to check if you’ve hidden anything inside your bra, Ms. Jones.”
For the love of—
His hands moved up, his palms more than enough to cover the full globes of her breasts, and the sensations that instantly assaulted her body were the most achingly sweet feeling.
So, so good.
And then he began to knead, and the ache became an unbearable agony, her breasts swelling under the mastery of his touch.
Too, too good.
His fingers closed over her flesh, moving to the peak until they were pinching her nipples – hard. Agony sharpened into acute need, unbearable and impossible to ignore, and her lips parted in a silent, helpless plea.
Acheron saw this, heard this, and he knew at that moment he would never forget this picture of Pippi, mindless with pleasure as she begged for his touch.
His control slipped anew, and his own actions became equally mindless. His head dipped down, his mouth roughly taking her nipple in. He didn’t waste time on foreplay and started sucking outright. It turned out to be exactly what they both needed, with Pippi’s body arching up against his in a voiceless demand for him to suck harder.
The feel of Acheron’s mouth on her nipple was nothing she could ever imagine, and with every tug of her sensitive flesh, she could feel her body swelling and swelling until she seemed fit to burst. She so badly wanted to grip his head and hold it to her breast, but she couldn’t. Her wrists could only shake powerlessly against its restraints, but even this only served to heighten her pleasure, so, so much so until she couldn’t think of anything but him.
God, it was so good.
Her thoughts became a hopeless jumble.
Please make this end.
Please don’t make this end.
Oh God, please.
She had a second’s respite when his head lifted, but just as she tried to breathe normally instead of gasping like she had been doing the past minute, his head lowered again, his mouth closing over her other nipple, and oh God, it started all over again.
Her head tossed from side to side, her body only capable of buckling against his as over and over he worshipped her tightly wound bud with his tongue and teeth. A part of her was convinced that nothing else could feel any better than what he was currently doing, but then she felt his lips move down, Acheron kneeling on the floor as his fingers expertly unbuttoned her pants.
As soon as the soft fabric fell to the floor, his mouth latched to her lace-covered pussy, and it was that moment she realized how wrong she was.
Her head fell back. Tears fell from her face. But still, it continued.
His mouth eating her pussy –
The tremors racking her body –
And finally, finally, it happened, and she shattered.
Acheron’s hand settled possessively on the small of Pippi’s back as they descended the stairs. Glancing at her, he saw the palest blush still coloring her cheeks. It was a good thing, he summarily reflected, that her household was an all-women’s domain. That lovely flush of hers was an erotic sight, one bound to have any healthy man’s imagination run rampant.