12-16-2022, 05:53 PM
Cool air prickled her skin when she exited, dousing some of the heat conjured by the man left inside and depositing a shiver in its wake. Beyond, she discovered the car’s headlights were off, the engine dead, and only empty shadows blanketed the grass and trees of the surrounding land. Gravel crushed underfoot, and Natalie summoned a trail of light enough to see by. When she approached it illuminated a post-it note stuck to the driver’s side window. It was of an inane smiley face scrawled in black ink. She crumbled it and let herself back in.
Toma returned moments later. Their gazes met in the rearview mirror, but Natalie’s broke away just as quickly, disinterested with the judgement. The engine shuddered awake, and the headlamps returned, picking out the edges of the property in ghostly detail.
When Adrian slid back in beside her, Natalie watched him in turn. The neatness of her expression betrayed little, though maybe the fact her gaze followed to the window as he gestured revealed a modicum of her surprise. By his general denigration she’d assumed the question of his investment in her school did not remain on the table. It had certainly not been a requisite to her other proposal. Should he make the mistake of presuming she exchanged her body for such favours he would come to regret the blunder, but nothing suggested he would be so foolish. In regards to her virtue or her feelings perhaps, either of which she imagined he cared little, but certainly not with the management of his own finances. There were far cheaper ways to bed a woman.
As a business deal, it was a shit one. To give away that much equity on the whim of a chance meeting, and with a man she barely knew anything about. But Natalie was reckless with the keys of her kingdom. Half of nothing was nothing, and as he so eloquently put it to her, she couldn’t lose something she’d never had in the first place. Ultimately he offered something she realised she wanted. That wasn’t money, or even power. Fifty percent wasn’t a price to be extorted, it was a promise.
When his lips grazed her throat, she made a sound that might have been pleasure or consideration. “I have no objections to an equal partnership,” she told him.
The warmth of his palm against her bare skin tingled all the heat upwards, and she was caught in the thought of how smooth his jaw was against her neck. Adrian teased with agonising slowness. She shifted inwards to him in curious invitation, allowing the roam of whatever he chose if he was bold enough. Her fingers tangled in the dark hair at the nape of his neck as the pleasure shivered anticipation through her. She didn’t stop him. There was a privacy screen, but she didn’t reach to engage it. Toma should have the moment she realised what was going on, but of course she didn’t. She just drove.
Natalie didn’t stop Adrian from pausing long enough to give her driver the instruction of their destination, nor commented on the fact he took the liberty, but she did draw his mouth back to hers before he’d barely finished speaking. She cared little for explanations of chivalry, if that’s really what it even was; she certainly had no interest in disturbing the veneer enough to discover the truth. But though she wanted nothing of his life or his commitment outside of their arrangements, while he was with her she would demand every scrap of his attention, and every ounce of his focus. That wasn’t negotiable.
For now she made Adrian set the boundary between them. Natalie denied him nothing he was not first prepared to take, but she pushed him to take it before she took in turn. She could have told him she was no lady, as appearances and name might both suggest she was, but she preferred he make the discovery for himself -- to preserve the thrill of being learned so thoroughly as she imagined he would try. There was satisfaction in tugging the neat shirt loose of his belt, and in the flex and tension of the muscles underneath. The cold flash of the expensive timepiece on his wrist made her gasp when it grazed her skin in turn. His hands weren’t shy and they played true to the foundations of his promise. There was a dangerous intoxication for Natalie in that knowledge. But she did not seek satiation. She did not get lost in him. It was a ravening hunger that returned his attentions, and she did not hold back on its effects or its passions, even as she held back on its design.
She had no desire for him to lose control. It was the intensity she craved. The deliberate freedoms he allowed himself, and those he did not.
Some time later the purr of the engine finally stopped, though it was a moment or two before she consented to notice that they’d arrived. Natalie was in no great rush to peel herself away. She was already certain he would pause to see what she would do next. Her head pressed back against the seat.
“You’re going to make me wait,” she accused as though scandalised, but there was a sharp curve to the edge of her lips, and her pale gaze was anything but outraged, for bedded deep in the ice was an incendiary tease. He wasn’t getting an invitation inside. Her apartment was impersonal; a place to rest, and not a home, but it was still an intimacy she was not prepared to give. The lust remained unbroken. Natalie did not disguise the rise and fall of her chest. She did not disguise the way her gaze took him very thoroughly in, or the places it lingered on the way back up to his eyes. Temptation fired her blood hot, and she was not sure to which end; to finally demand and collect from him the satisfaction she desired, in whatever way she chose, or to kneel between his thighs until the chains of his self-control shattered. She wanted to see him undone. Though not simply that; she wanted to be given the key to that undoing.
But when she leaned in, it was not to touch him. Nor was it to engage his attention once more, in entreaty or in demand. She did not package her desire neatly away; it was there, hot and heavy and wanting, but she knew he would not reach out this time to close the distance. “Then I’ll wait,” she promised. That wicked hint of smile returned while she allowed him time to decipher exactly what she meant. She adjusted the line of her dress, and ran her fingers through the tousled gold of her hair. If he pulled her back into him she wouldn't resist. She wasn’t sure she was capable, and she almost hoped he’d try. But if it would burn brightly in the satisfaction of a moment, she knew also it wasn’t truly what she wanted from him.
He didn’t stop her, though. She clicked open the door and was gone, without goodbye.
Toma returned moments later. Their gazes met in the rearview mirror, but Natalie’s broke away just as quickly, disinterested with the judgement. The engine shuddered awake, and the headlamps returned, picking out the edges of the property in ghostly detail.
When Adrian slid back in beside her, Natalie watched him in turn. The neatness of her expression betrayed little, though maybe the fact her gaze followed to the window as he gestured revealed a modicum of her surprise. By his general denigration she’d assumed the question of his investment in her school did not remain on the table. It had certainly not been a requisite to her other proposal. Should he make the mistake of presuming she exchanged her body for such favours he would come to regret the blunder, but nothing suggested he would be so foolish. In regards to her virtue or her feelings perhaps, either of which she imagined he cared little, but certainly not with the management of his own finances. There were far cheaper ways to bed a woman.
As a business deal, it was a shit one. To give away that much equity on the whim of a chance meeting, and with a man she barely knew anything about. But Natalie was reckless with the keys of her kingdom. Half of nothing was nothing, and as he so eloquently put it to her, she couldn’t lose something she’d never had in the first place. Ultimately he offered something she realised she wanted. That wasn’t money, or even power. Fifty percent wasn’t a price to be extorted, it was a promise.
When his lips grazed her throat, she made a sound that might have been pleasure or consideration. “I have no objections to an equal partnership,” she told him.
The warmth of his palm against her bare skin tingled all the heat upwards, and she was caught in the thought of how smooth his jaw was against her neck. Adrian teased with agonising slowness. She shifted inwards to him in curious invitation, allowing the roam of whatever he chose if he was bold enough. Her fingers tangled in the dark hair at the nape of his neck as the pleasure shivered anticipation through her. She didn’t stop him. There was a privacy screen, but she didn’t reach to engage it. Toma should have the moment she realised what was going on, but of course she didn’t. She just drove.
Natalie didn’t stop Adrian from pausing long enough to give her driver the instruction of their destination, nor commented on the fact he took the liberty, but she did draw his mouth back to hers before he’d barely finished speaking. She cared little for explanations of chivalry, if that’s really what it even was; she certainly had no interest in disturbing the veneer enough to discover the truth. But though she wanted nothing of his life or his commitment outside of their arrangements, while he was with her she would demand every scrap of his attention, and every ounce of his focus. That wasn’t negotiable.
For now she made Adrian set the boundary between them. Natalie denied him nothing he was not first prepared to take, but she pushed him to take it before she took in turn. She could have told him she was no lady, as appearances and name might both suggest she was, but she preferred he make the discovery for himself -- to preserve the thrill of being learned so thoroughly as she imagined he would try. There was satisfaction in tugging the neat shirt loose of his belt, and in the flex and tension of the muscles underneath. The cold flash of the expensive timepiece on his wrist made her gasp when it grazed her skin in turn. His hands weren’t shy and they played true to the foundations of his promise. There was a dangerous intoxication for Natalie in that knowledge. But she did not seek satiation. She did not get lost in him. It was a ravening hunger that returned his attentions, and she did not hold back on its effects or its passions, even as she held back on its design.
She had no desire for him to lose control. It was the intensity she craved. The deliberate freedoms he allowed himself, and those he did not.
Some time later the purr of the engine finally stopped, though it was a moment or two before she consented to notice that they’d arrived. Natalie was in no great rush to peel herself away. She was already certain he would pause to see what she would do next. Her head pressed back against the seat.
“You’re going to make me wait,” she accused as though scandalised, but there was a sharp curve to the edge of her lips, and her pale gaze was anything but outraged, for bedded deep in the ice was an incendiary tease. He wasn’t getting an invitation inside. Her apartment was impersonal; a place to rest, and not a home, but it was still an intimacy she was not prepared to give. The lust remained unbroken. Natalie did not disguise the rise and fall of her chest. She did not disguise the way her gaze took him very thoroughly in, or the places it lingered on the way back up to his eyes. Temptation fired her blood hot, and she was not sure to which end; to finally demand and collect from him the satisfaction she desired, in whatever way she chose, or to kneel between his thighs until the chains of his self-control shattered. She wanted to see him undone. Though not simply that; she wanted to be given the key to that undoing.
But when she leaned in, it was not to touch him. Nor was it to engage his attention once more, in entreaty or in demand. She did not package her desire neatly away; it was there, hot and heavy and wanting, but she knew he would not reach out this time to close the distance. “Then I’ll wait,” she promised. That wicked hint of smile returned while she allowed him time to decipher exactly what she meant. She adjusted the line of her dress, and ran her fingers through the tousled gold of her hair. If he pulled her back into him she wouldn't resist. She wasn’t sure she was capable, and she almost hoped he’d try. But if it would burn brightly in the satisfaction of a moment, she knew also it wasn’t truly what she wanted from him.
He didn’t stop her, though. She clicked open the door and was gone, without goodbye.