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“Is that so?” I avoid laughing at her, knowing I’ll be at the receiving end of a tongue-lashing if I do.
I let her go and watch as she raises her hands and twirls in the middle of the floor.
God, she’s fucking beautiful. Her dress lifts around her, like a halo around her waist. And she’s beaming—it’s a fucking feast for the eyes.
I love drunk Elsa.
Sober Elsa is great, too, don’t get me wrong. But Elsa, when she’s all loosened up, introduces me to parts of her that she would never show me otherwise.
It’s when her guard goes down that the little imperfections behind that powerhouse image shines. That’s what drew me to her in the first place. And it’s what keeps me captivated by her now.
“See, I’m fine!” She smiles at me, sticking her chin up in the air.
She falls back on her heels, seemingly dizzy from her spin, and I run catch her in my arms.
“Fine or not, I’ll make sure to catch you if you do fall.” I wink at her.
“Ugh, what a line. Is that how you got my models? You smacked the one-liner down and they came drooling after you,” she says, standing up and releasing herself from my hold.
She reaches for the table in the center of foyer and lifts a leg to take her heels off.
“Now that’s a hell of a stiletto,” I say, pointing out the obvious, not stopping my hungry gaze drinking in her long toned legs. “I know how much you like them.”
She fumbles around with the buckle, still unable to catch her balance.
Watching Elsa fumble is quite amusing and not in a deprecating way. Rather, it shines a light on some of the dormant feelings she had left in me. It’s her innocence in this moment that tugs at me.
She stands up, frustration getting the best of her. She turns towards me and eyes me like I’m a fucking piece of meat. It’s definitely not the first time that’s happened, though it makes me feel ten feet tall when Elsa does it.
“Remind me, do you like them over your shoulders or digging into your back?” she purrs.
She glares at me, but her eyes follow her finger as it travels down my chest. She traces the curves of my abdomen with a finger, and I watch as her eyes become heavy with lust.
I smile and step toward her, wanting to give in to her cravings and to my own.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she says, pushing me back with that same damn finger.
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I grab onto to her hand and pull her against me.
A gasp falls from her lips.
“I prefer the stilettos on the floor, but your legs over my shoulders is something I would never deny.”
The desire in her expression grows dark, and the electricity between us sparks, setting me aflame.
She shakes her head and bends down to finish taking off her shoes, pushing against my chest for balance.
I run my hands through my hair, sighing in exasperation and sexual frustration. Her body feels so fucking amazing in my arms, and I actually recoil as she leaves me.
But she wobbles again after successfully taking the first shoe off, and falls backs into me, igniting me all over again.
This time, her head is in line with my cock, and her hand lands on my upper thigh. It takes everything in me not to take my throbbing cock out and fuck that smart mouth of hers.
“Do you need help, Elsa?” I ask, wanting her to get away from my growing need despite actually wanting her there.
“I got this.” She tightens her grasp on my thighs, and I instinctively groan.
