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HIS CURVY OBSESSION  Novel Cover

HIS CURVY OBSESSION

Banks Wellington hears her voice and knows he must have her. She's never been small, and the world has always told her to shrink. But when he looks at her, small isn't what he craves. So she signs the contract—agreeing to be worshipped by a man whose rules demand total submission, while secretly holding onto another identity as her escape route. What begins as a dark, consuming arrangement blurs the line between devotion and danger. He wants her softness, her surrender, her breath. She wants to be seen without disappearing. But in a game built on control, the only way out may cost her everything—including the man who sees her as his obsession.
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Chapter 3

Her head stops just below my shoulder as she scurries past me toward the counter.

"I need a perfume," I say and she comes back out with a tight-lipped, professional smile.

"That's great, sir." She leads me toward the expensive section. I don't mind. I'm used to being steered toward the top shelf; I have the money, and they need the commission. Besides, price usually dictates quality.

"Who is it for?" she questions, standing directly in front of me. My body nudging me to hold her waist again. Is it this hard to resist touching someone?

"A male friend. It's his birthday." She turns her back to me, reaching for a bottle of Clive Christian. Her movements bring her dangerously close to me. As she stretches up, her short dress rides up, revealing a glimpse of her ass cheeks hidden beneath her hosiery. Images of them on my face glimpse through my mind, raw and unbidden.

"I'll get it" I press closer, not quite touching. My arm raises alongside hers to help her reach the bottle and the proximity becomes a problem immediately. Her scent wraps around me, and heat moves through me from jaw to groin. What the hell. My hand finds the bottle yet I don't move back.

"Thank yo..." She turns to face me, but the movement is too fast. Her mouth connects squarely with my chest and I grab her waist, finally, again; to steady her. My body responds instantly: Throat thicken, pulse race and my stomach is being throttled.

 "I... OMG!" She recoils, looking up at me in horror. Then she looks down at the pink lipstick stain she's left on my grey polo.

"I'm so sorry, sir!" She plead, wiping the stain with the heel of her palm, her chest brushing against my arms while her hand graze my nipple through the fabric. Well, fuck.

"Please come off..."Her soft groan plea and I'm already imagining her saying please in a very different context. I grab her wrist, stopping the frantic rubbing as my length begin to thicken.  

"Stop" Our eyes locks at my order and silence engulfs over us like gust of wind. I lift my other hand to stroke my thumb gently on her cheeks and a faint flush climbs her neck, up to her cheeks and she looks up at me, while I look down at her. Noises fade but I hear her breathing clearly. I also hear my struggling ability to swallow.

 "I'll have it dry-cleaned" I say and drop my thumb to the smudged line of the pink lipstick on her cheeks then I swipe it over with a slowness that make my heart race. Her lips part in exhale and I leave my thumb on her bottom lips, feeling the gloss settle like heat on my skin. Her breath catches and it undoes something in me that I didn't know was held together.

"What's your name?" I question with a voice that's thick and groggy even to my ears.

"Eleanor." She responds and I release her wrist slowly, letting my fingers drag across her pulse point. She doesn't move. My blood rushes in my ears. I remove my thumb completely and step back before my beast tears her apart. The heat buzzing through my body is questioning.

 "I'm sorry, sir," she repeats. I nod and walk toward the desk, swallowing the urge to correct her from saying sir. She walks faster, heading to the terminal. The shop is small and empty. The only one here: salesgirl and cashier. Money will get me what I want. It always does anyways.

"What time do you close, Anor?" She tilts her head, biting her lower lip.

"Three p.m." I nod, looking down as she rings up the perfume. I watch her work- the images of how perfect she'll look under me, spread out for me, flashes through my mind.

 "Here you go, sir." I collect the bag and bill from her. Staring at her a little longer than necessary as I pay. I see the pulse jumping in her neck. The red in her skin deepens. She knows I'm looking. My getaway.

"My driver will pick you up," I finally decide, turning to head out. Right by the door,

"I... I'll be too sweaty," her voice stops me. I turn back.

"Moreover... if I'm not being delusional" she licks her lips and motion both hands down her body.

"I'm not properly dressed for a date." I walk back towards her with need in my steps, watching her chest rise and fall faster with each step I close. I reach out and place my palm against the side of her face. She goes completely still.

Her neck tightens, breath seizes, chest heaves rapidly while my own pulse forms a drumbeat of its own. The soft flesh of her cheeks settle into my skin as she leans a fraction into my palm. A sound builds low in my chest, my beast clawing to feast.

Without delay, I lean across the counter until my face is inches from hers. Near enough that I can feel the warmth her skin is putting out. Enough that her scent wraps me and my restraint develops a crack. Her lips part and eyes flutter at me..

"I will kiss you" I confess and her eyes widen. She isn't backing away. I drop the bag, raise my other hand to her neck, and connect our lips together. SHITSTORM.

Sparks fly across my brain, heat spreads around my head and my stomach forms unmistakable big knots as I kiss her. My mouth covers in on her lower lips, I bite it. Her pulse hum beneath my fingers and the heat of her cheeks light up my hand.

"Hmmmm" She groans and something sets off rapidly in my chest. Fuck. I deepen the kiss and press closer and her arm wrap around my neck, the other fishing my chest, my blood boiling at how impossibly soft and warm her lips are.  

 "Fuck" I grunt into her mouth and pull away slowly like I have all the time in the world, like I'm not fighting the urge to come fully over this counter and devour every flesh that grace her body. Her breath comes in shallow waves against my chin and her chest is pressing forward to my chest. Then I let go. The absence an unwrapping.

She stumbles back, one hand flying to her mouth, eyes darting everywhere but on me. Her chest is heaving, lips are wet and parted. I need to leave this shop in the next ten seconds or I won't. I hate the absence immediately but placate myself with the thought that she'll be mine in three hours.

"That... I've never... Why... I'm sorry," Even her stammering makes me smile.

"You won't need your dress for this date." I leave the shop feeling her gaze on me. It's been four months since I've had sex. That's a decision that's about to be rectified.    

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Fair warning. One of the readers on this book commented: If you don't like BDSM, RUN. Another commented: I don't read BDSM but this is great. And another: Handstock, blindfold, cuffs and public display ... Everything is touched. So Hot.  Here's my Author's advice- If you want an obsessed man, but also Dominant. Want a submissive but make her Brat sub, THEN WELCOME!  The comment section takes a fierce ride mid book. And I'll appreciate if you give more comments in early chapters. Gracias.

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