From Marie Rebelle’s 2019 Smut Marathon. – Raz
“I was kind of afraid to stop here,” Elia said.
“Why? Sixteen cats? Underwear on the chandelier?” Gavin replied. Elia laughed.
“No!” She paused, uncertain, then took a deep breath. “I was afraid you’d see Brooke, and that’d be that.”
“What, your roommate? Leaving as we came in?”
“…Yeah.”
Gavin chuckled.
“Nope. Rest easy, El. She’s not my type.”
“Huh. She’s a frickin’ bridal model, Gav. I’ve turned invisible twice on my own dates with her around. She’s everyone’s type.”
“A willow in a wedding dress? Not for me,” he insisted. “I told you before — I’m an old school pin-up kinda guy. Gimme dangerous curves.” His hands pantomimed an hour-glass, and he made a low “Mmmm-hmmm” sound while his eyes traveled Elia’s body.
“Soft in all the right places, baby. And sharp where it counts double.” He tapped his temple.
“Flatterer.”
“You know it’s true.”
Elia paused, eyeing him, then seemed to make a decision.
“Do you?” she asked.
“Do I what?”
She stepped away, to the center of the living room.
“Know I’m soft in ‘all the right places’?”
It was Gavin’s turn to be uncertain.
“Well,” he gestured as if indicating her whole self was Exhibit A, “there was last weekend…”
Elia smiled. That had been nice.
“True. I believe you determined exactly how soft these are,” she said, slipping her dress down to reveal a black bustier that did more presenting than supporting.
Gavin let out an appreciative whistle, hands flexing unconsciously. Elia’s last insecurities burned away under his gaze.
“But I’m not sure,” she said, fingers finding the zipper at her back, “you have enough empirical evidence.”
Her dress fell away, revealing-
“Stockings and garters…” Gavin breathed, reverent. Elia slowly, deliberately arched to a classic cheesecake pose. Then as she bent to another, he growled.
“Tell me the show tickets didn’t cost too much.”
“Why?” Elia batted an eye at him over her shoulder, hip canted just so.
“Because we’re missing it.” He reached for her, and she danced away, slinking through the doorway of her room.
“No,” she whispered, loosening the bustier as he followed. “We’re not.”
Their kiss lasted long enough for Gavin to lose his jacket and shirt. Elia gripped his shoulders as his mouth explored, then devoured her breasts. His hands found and drew her panties down.
“Dangerous curves,” he purred, moving lower as she sighed.
“Mmm-hm. Soft,” he kissed and licked her inner thigh just above her stocking.
“…in all the right places,” his tongue slithered to her slit, and swiped up to her clit.
“Oh!”
“And sweet as can be.”
When he repeated the trip from the other thigh, she nearly lost it. When he threatened more teasing meanderings, she grabbed him by the hair and held him in place until she did lose it, completely.
Eventually, languidly, she released him, and sank back on her bed, eyes sultry.
“Your turn, Mr. Pin-up,” Elia grinned.
And Gavin showed her he was hard in all the right places.
Categories: Erotic Fiction, Foreplay, Raziel, Romance
The Erotic Writer 