“What colours do you need?”
“Oh…” She checks something on her agenda and nods towards one of the aisles of the huge art store in the centre of Brisbane. “Grey and white. These are the colour codes” she points at the numbers on her agenda. “They’re predominant colours and I need them for mixing.”
I follow her while she walks at ease among the shelves looking to the right and left, up and down, studying every colour and can carefully. Something in my trousers shakes and gets really hard while I look at her soft and delicious curves. I could take her here, on the shelves, making them wobble dangerously, make her scream from surprise, pleasure and the fear of being discovered. It’s quite an isolated area of the shop, I could really do what I want and take her soul. But not now, not here, I’ll take my pleasure and agony in a more appropriate place and time.
She stops in front of a shelf full of light colours and smiles, satisfied. Her eyes shine, she’s in her “habitat” and feels good, at ease. “Found it!”
Eleonor stretches towards the upper shelf towards the cans of white paint. I’m behind her and my eyes fall on her legs as her grey dress crawls a bit up her thighs covered by black tights and I realize that she’s wearing stay-ups? Oh, damn, this is quite a cruel blow under the belt.
I clench my fists and my jaw, I should move away or something… surely, I should look elsewhere, but there’s no space and I’m blocked because I don’t want to leave her.
“Excuse me…” A shop assistant with a trolley full of who-knows-what nods to me to get out of his away.
Instinctively, with a fever and excitement that’s growing inside me, I move and put my hand on the shelf near Eleonor’s head. She immediately turns around and lets out a choked sound of surprise. The shop assistant passes by and Eleonor loses her balance, but I catch her by the hips before she and the cans fall. I pull her to me, now we’re alone again and the lights seem weaker and the noises muffled. She looks at my muscled arm around her hips. To provoke and surprise her more, I pull her even closer to my chest and grab the shelf impatiently.
Under my touch, her dress seems to burn and beg me to be torn away. Eleonor continues to look down, her cheeks blush delicately while her body stretches towards mine. It shakes from fear and the rush of adrenaline, the desire of discovering more.
Eleonor is frightened, I can feel it, but deep down I attract her, I’m sure, she’s curious, sensually curious.
Something hard hits my feet and rolls on the floor. I look at the fallen can of acrylic, it didn’t hurt, I didn’t feel anything, I only feel the magnetic power that pulls me towards her. Our eyes meet and for a moment there’s an uneven fight, because I know I’m stronger, I know I can dominate and trap her.
“Ouch” I say with my soothing and warm voice. A low tone that puzzles her, makes her shiver from head to toe.
I must continue to excite her, provoke her.
My hand moves, slowly going down from her hip moving on her dress. She stiffens and opens her eyes wide when my fingers touch her bottom and go back up to her hip, towards the hem of her skirt that slips through my fingers in a sexy and light caress. I close my eyes, I’m in a delightful pleasure bubble of pure need and I’m afraid I can’t stop myself easily, not if Eleonor continues to look at me with her big eyes, red cheeks, slightly half-closed lips, and her shivering body. I want to savour every moment of this game, every single look, every single pulsion of our lower parts that touch, desiring each other inexorably.
She lets out another chocked sigh while my fingers leave her body to pick up the can from the floor. I slowly get back up, looking at her body, lingering on her knees, her thighs, her flat belly and her rounded hips that turn up towards delicate, firm breasts. These would fit perfectly in my big rough hands while I lick her pink neck. I hold back my hands, my lips and my body, but it’s so difficult that soon I surrender. I get closer to her again and smile satisfied, because she’s here and she’s mine now.
I look her half-closed lips with desire and caress them with my breath. “Luckily, it’s made of plastic” I say in a low tone, putting the can on the shelf behind her, getting even closer. I hold on to the shelf, touch her hair with my arms and look at her while she bites her lower lip. I feel a sharp pain in my heart and a throb in my swollen dick.
I moan painfully because she’s here and her uncertainty stops me. Why am I stopping? Why am I not pushing her against the shelf, burning her lips with my kisses?
I can’t move away without taking something of hers, so I get closer and the perfume of her hair lures me where her jaw meets her neck and her earlobe calls to me. I’m a selfish bastard, I want her, I want to leave a mark.
My face and my lips touch her hair, I inhale eagerly, intoxicated by her perfume, I’m addicted. I slowly move away and let her soft hair caress me, then I hide my face in her neck. I don’t kiss her, I don’t touch her skin. No, I breathe with my eyes closed enjoying her smell and her reaction as she jumps and moans under her breath. A sound that hits me directly in my trousers and almost makes me lose control.
I’m done, this sweet torture is killing me, I run my hand through her hair delicately, I don’t want to hurt her, I just want to pull her face back and put my lips on her jaw. My lips touch her soft, smooth skin, I taste it: it tastes good, like something of the past, an old memory that I thought was lost, but that I re-discover. A perfume that tastes of home, a safe place, stuck in my mind and in my heart.
It’s a memory that beats with my heart, and it’s there, uncontrolled…
I’m condemned to hurt her.
And I realize how much I really want to do it.
I’m aware that from now on, any woman I will take to bed, I will imagine her to be Eleonor Meier.
Eleonor melts, grabs my shoulders and pushes, digs her fingers into my muscles and raises her head towards the sky, enjoying my lips and my tormenting touch. She can’t resist my charm and our desire, our adrenaline forces us to make extreme, imprudent, overwhelming gestures.
My thumb draws invisible forms on her cheek, then on her neck and on her breasts, that are there, pushed against my chest, I feel her nipples stiffen against the material, desiring to be touched.
“Asher, don’t…”
“What, Eleonor?”
She shakes her head but can’t speak.
My hands touch the skin of her neckline, her breasts and…
Something vibrates in my back pocket and I jump, like Eleonor, who pulls herself together and moves away putting a certain distance between us. “What the hell!” I say, taking my phone furiously and looking at the display: it’s my boss. “I have to get this.”
Eleonor nods, breathless. Before answering, I look at her and smile, satisfied in seeing her out of breath, disoriented.
I did it.
I will possess her soul….