The sunset spilled through the high-rise windows like liquid amber, painting Freya's curves in gold as she leaned over the kitchen counter, sipping wine from a tall-stemmed glass. Adam stood behind her, watching silently. The low-back dress she wore clung to her hips like it had been poured on, daring gravity to betray her.
"I didn't think you actually owned anything that... modest," Adam teased, nodding at the satin fabric teasing the tops of her thighs.
Freya smirked, swirling the wine in her glass without turning. "I don't. This is just barely legal."
Adam stepped closer. She felt his heat at her back before she heard the whisper of his breath. "You know, you've been teasing me since the moment I walked into your life."
"Teasing?" she asked innocently, finally turning to face him. "Darling, this is just how I breathe."
Adam leaned one palm on the counter behind her, trapping her between the cool marble and the heat of his body. "Then let me see what you sound like when I make it hard for you to breathe."
The electricity between them cracked like thunder in the silence. Freya's pulse throbbed in her throat.
He moved slowly, his free hand brushing a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder, fingertips grazing the curve of her collarbone. Her skin prickled, nipples tightening beneath the silk like they were begging for attention. She felt his hardness press against her stomach through the thin fabric of his pants — thick, hot, impossible to ignore.
She arched slightly, lips brushing his. "Still think I'm teasing?"
Adam didn't answer. Instead, he kissed her — deep, slow, hungry — like he'd been starving for her taste. His hand trailed down her spine, resting at the base of her back, pressing her into him. Their bodies ground together with perfect friction.
Freya moaned softly, her legs parting slightly as the kiss turned wetter, deeper. His mouth moved to her neck, tongue lapping at the skin while his fingers found the bare slit of her thigh through the dress's side slit.
She rocked her hips against him in rhythm, rolling her center over the thick bulge of his cock. "Fuck..." she whispered against his mouth.
Adam grabbed the back of her thigh and lifted her slightly onto the counter's edge. She wrapped one leg around his waist without hesitation. The silk of her dress rode up to her hips.
"No panties?" he growled into her mouth.
She bit his lip playfully. "You didn't think I'd make it that easy, did you?"
He ground against her harder now, their breath shallow and ragged. The counter vibrated with the rhythm of his thrusts — not inside her, but firm enough between them to make her cry out.
Freya slid her hands under his shirt, nails raking up his abs to his chest. She tugged the fabric over his head, revealing the toned muscles she'd imagined since their first flirtation. Adam's skin was warm, glowing, the heat rolling off him as his mouth trailed down to her cleavage.
He dipped his head, taking one nipple in his mouth through the silk. Wet heat soaked the fabric, and she gasped, arching toward him.
Her hands gripped the back of his head, holding him there. "Harder," she whispered.
Adam obliged, sucking harder, his hand cupping the other breast, thumb flicking her nipple into a hardened peak. Her hips moved frantically against him now, desperate for release, the pressure of his cock grinding just right through the thin layers between them.
His hands slid down, one on her ass, the other slipping up the back of her dress, grazing bare skin. He pulled her into him with each motion, matching her rhythm. The tension snapped tighter and tighter between them.
Then she grabbed his hand and placed it between her thighs, rubbing her own wetness onto his fingers.
"I want to feel you," she whispered, eyes dark with need.
He pressed harder, but never entered her. Just slick, wet circles — tormenting her — until she trembled.
Their breaths were pure heat. She was panting now, nails digging into his shoulders as she came closer to the edge. He pressed his forehead to hers, the tip of his cock straining against his pants.
"Freya…" he groaned.
She bit her lip, trembling. "Don't stop. I want to come on you."
His lips slammed into hers again, messy, hungry, feral. He kept grinding, the angle perfect — her body twitching as she cried out softly, whispering his name into his mouth as the tremors hit.
She collapsed slightly against his chest, laughing breathlessly. "You didn't even get inside me."
Adam smirked. "Yet."
They stood there for a moment, tangled in sweat, silk, and restraint.
Then Freya slipped off the counter, straightening her dress with a knowing smirk. "Let's take this somewhere less... public."
"Where?" he asked, voice gravel-thick.
She took his hand and led him to the floor-to-ceiling window. "That hotel across the street. I have a key. Room 1412."
He looked down, saw the neon sign of the boutique hotel glowing in the twilight.
"Let's see what you're like when you don't have to hold back," she whispered.
He pulled her in for one more breathless kiss.
And together, they left the room — ready to finish what they started, with nothing left to hide.