17 Zayed

17

Zayed

I moved her hair from her neck and placed a small kiss, licking her hammering pulse, slowly tugging up the hem of her dress. She sighed and relaxed in my arms, allowing me to unzip her dress, peel it off of her pale skin and bare herself to me.

She must have been really worked up from the meeting if she was being so easy without any fighting or starting an argument. I could help her relieve her stress, do anything she wanted, and all she had to do was ask.

Her breathing increased when I carefully placed her heel clad feet on my thigh. Her fingers dug into the arms of the armchair as I kept aside her heel, repeating the action on her other foot, rubbing my thumb on her ankle. She was always sensitive to my touch, even all those years ago when we were horny teenagers and used to fool around every alone time we would get.

I grinned, seeing two guns, and daggers strapped around her thigh. “Did you have to use them?” I asked, unclasping the holster and keeping it on the small tab