The Dollhouse Society Volume I: Evelyn (Includes Indecent Proposal, Dreams in Black & White, Playing House, Freeze Frame, plus a bonus story!) Read Online Free Page A
suddenly. He could smell it. I could smell it in the heated closeness between us.
He lifted his head, slowly, until he was back at the level of my face. There he laid an almost chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth. He tasted like heat and peppermints. I let him do it. I didn’t even protest when he moved the softness of his mouth and the roughness of his cheek to kiss me more directly on the lips. His hand went to my left breast where he thumbed my hardening nipple through the softness of my blouse. His teeth were hard against my mouth, like he meant to bite me.
We stayed that way for an agonizing length of time. And then, finally, he said against my mouth, “May I take your silence for a yes? Is that a yes, Evelyn?”
I made a rumbly noise in my throat. Yes, no…I don’t know.
“Yes?” He looked at me demandingly, through those glasses. No one had ever looked at me like that, with such hunger. He impaled me with his look. “Say it,” he said, and kissed me again, a deep, rough kiss that left my mouth numb and tingling. His fingers closed over my nipple, pinching it so suddenly I gasped into his mouth. “Say. It.”
“Yes.”
It was the maddest thing I’d ever said.
A look of profound satisfaction overcame his face. He put his hands around my waist and lifted me easily from the chair, turned, and deposited me on the glassy edge of the desk. “Dear, sweet Christ, yes,” he said as if all his prayers had been answered in that moment. He bent to me, cupped the back of my head, and kissed me harshly, completely, breathing into me. His fingers dug into my coiffure so the little bit remaining came undone and long dark hair showered down around us both. He kissed me fiercely, sticking his tongue deep inside my mouth, almost all the way down my throat. I made a half-groaning, half-choking noise. I expected him to draw back in response to that sound. Instead, he surprised me.
He pushed me down so we knocked the beautiful antique vase full of Japanese flowers over and my loosened hair unraveled all over his files and ink blotter. He grasped my face harshly in his big hands and kissed me like he meant to consume me. A small part of my mind whispered that this wasn’t proper, or smart, or anything like me . But a greater part reveled in the feel of his hand gripping my curves and jerking me this way and that so he had better access to first my mouth, and then my throat. His teeth grazed me, nibbled me, but didn’t bite. Meanwhile, his hands worked at my blouse, undoing it with a coordination and speed that impressed me.
The room was suddenly very cool against my damp and newly bared skin. He groaned with satisfaction at the front closer of my push-up bra, undid it, and then he was right there , his rough tongue finding an already hardened nipple and licking it, wetting it thoroughly before blowing upon it so it was harder still. He moved back and forth between both nipples, licking and then sucking upon them, his tongue moving in lazy circles, his teeth nipping only very gently. I let out a small cry of surprise, the delicious tingling sensation moving like a vibrating wire from my breasts to my groin and then lower still , between my legs. I writhed upon the desk for him, helpless to stop him even when his hand moved down my body, his touch heavy, hot and demanding. He kept the glasses on, observing my reactions with a scowling concentration that made my whole body flutter with fear and anticipation.
I realized my interview was far from over. I desperately wished I was thinner. I wished I was beautiful. I wished his office suite was darker, not all bright, clinical lights. I almost scooted backwards on the desk away from him, but he held me in place, pinned me to the desk.
He finally stopped tormenting me so he could grip me at the hips, twisting my sensible, navy blue business skirt around my legs. It took me a moment to realize just what he was doing. I almost said no , and then realized the absurdity of the
He lifted his head, slowly, until he was back at the level of my face. There he laid an almost chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth. He tasted like heat and peppermints. I let him do it. I didn’t even protest when he moved the softness of his mouth and the roughness of his cheek to kiss me more directly on the lips. His hand went to my left breast where he thumbed my hardening nipple through the softness of my blouse. His teeth were hard against my mouth, like he meant to bite me.
We stayed that way for an agonizing length of time. And then, finally, he said against my mouth, “May I take your silence for a yes? Is that a yes, Evelyn?”
I made a rumbly noise in my throat. Yes, no…I don’t know.
“Yes?” He looked at me demandingly, through those glasses. No one had ever looked at me like that, with such hunger. He impaled me with his look. “Say it,” he said, and kissed me again, a deep, rough kiss that left my mouth numb and tingling. His fingers closed over my nipple, pinching it so suddenly I gasped into his mouth. “Say. It.”
“Yes.”
It was the maddest thing I’d ever said.
A look of profound satisfaction overcame his face. He put his hands around my waist and lifted me easily from the chair, turned, and deposited me on the glassy edge of the desk. “Dear, sweet Christ, yes,” he said as if all his prayers had been answered in that moment. He bent to me, cupped the back of my head, and kissed me harshly, completely, breathing into me. His fingers dug into my coiffure so the little bit remaining came undone and long dark hair showered down around us both. He kissed me fiercely, sticking his tongue deep inside my mouth, almost all the way down my throat. I made a half-groaning, half-choking noise. I expected him to draw back in response to that sound. Instead, he surprised me.
He pushed me down so we knocked the beautiful antique vase full of Japanese flowers over and my loosened hair unraveled all over his files and ink blotter. He grasped my face harshly in his big hands and kissed me like he meant to consume me. A small part of my mind whispered that this wasn’t proper, or smart, or anything like me . But a greater part reveled in the feel of his hand gripping my curves and jerking me this way and that so he had better access to first my mouth, and then my throat. His teeth grazed me, nibbled me, but didn’t bite. Meanwhile, his hands worked at my blouse, undoing it with a coordination and speed that impressed me.
The room was suddenly very cool against my damp and newly bared skin. He groaned with satisfaction at the front closer of my push-up bra, undid it, and then he was right there , his rough tongue finding an already hardened nipple and licking it, wetting it thoroughly before blowing upon it so it was harder still. He moved back and forth between both nipples, licking and then sucking upon them, his tongue moving in lazy circles, his teeth nipping only very gently. I let out a small cry of surprise, the delicious tingling sensation moving like a vibrating wire from my breasts to my groin and then lower still , between my legs. I writhed upon the desk for him, helpless to stop him even when his hand moved down my body, his touch heavy, hot and demanding. He kept the glasses on, observing my reactions with a scowling concentration that made my whole body flutter with fear and anticipation.
I realized my interview was far from over. I desperately wished I was thinner. I wished I was beautiful. I wished his office suite was darker, not all bright, clinical lights. I almost scooted backwards on the desk away from him, but he held me in place, pinned me to the desk.
He finally stopped tormenting me so he could grip me at the hips, twisting my sensible, navy blue business skirt around my legs. It took me a moment to realize just what he was doing. I almost said no , and then realized the absurdity of the
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