London Calling Pt. 03: The Dress

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The long awaited part three to Grace and Benjamin’s story…

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Sleep eluded me that night.

I couldn’t get him off my mind, couldn’t get the cab ride off my mind.

The way it felt, being pinned under his hands as he pushed clever fingers inside my wet pussy, the way his lips felt on mine — harsh, demanding… I replayed it over, and over in my head, feeling the junction between my thighs pulse, a hot swoop in my stomach causing me to toss and turn until sheets were caught up in my legs.

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of him. And when I awoke, late into the morning, my body only yearned more intensely.

I felt Dorian jump onto the bed at my feet and begin cleaning himself- pausing to observe me regally as I shoved my head under a pillow and let out a low moan of hot embarrassment.

How in the fucking world was I going to face him tonight? How was I going to string together two words?

Sitting up, I told myself to grow up. I smiled bleakly at Dorian, who meowed a demand for his breakfast. I sighed.

“Okay, your highness,” I muttered, before descending the elegant stairs down to the kitchen.

Yawning, I set Dorian’s bowl of food on the polished hardwood floor before crossing to the coffee machine and pressing a button for a hot and strong espresso.

Picking up my phone from where I had haphazardly thrown my handbag the night before, I felt myself shiver at the single message from an unknown number. I knew who it was from. Not pausing to retrieve my coffee, I read the sparse words and let out a shaky breath.

Speakeasy, 8pm. Meet me at the bar.

It was sent just after 5am. A ghost of a smile passed my face… maybe he hadn’t been able to sleep, either.

As I knocked backed the espresso like a shot of tequila, I pondered how best to reply. Coming up blank I looked hopelessly down at the phone screen as another text from Benjamin came through.

Wear something red.

I felt myself bristle. God, he was arrogant.

“I don’t even own anything red,” I muttered crossly.

But that wasn’t entirely true.

Groaning, I ran upstairs to the master bedroom where I had been sleeping, diving into the closet where Lily had made space for my clothes.

I pulled out The Dress and groaned again.

Cherry-red and made out of a buttery silk, The Dress had a plunging neckline and barely scraped the top of my thighs in length. I had never worn it before. My best friend Viv had made me buy it after my last breakup, before I moved to London – insisting that at some point I would want a dress that would have a guy begging.

“I don’t want anyone to beg,” I had protested. She had laughed and shook her head.

“One day you’re gonna meet a guy who is going to completely fuck you up. And then I can guarantee… you’re going to want this dress. The dress.”

Holding it against my body and inspecting myself in the mirror, I shook my head. I had a perfectly nice, knee-length black cocktail dress that I could wear. It looked great on me. and besides, now that he had tried to tell me what to do… well, I felt the need to defy him. To say no. To have that little bit of control.

What was I, five?

I hung the dress back off with a short sigh and bit my lip, before picking up my phone again and ringing Viv.

“Good morning sunshine,” she sang at me, laughed “you caught me at the perfect time. Just getting ready for a night out.”

I smiled.

“Planning a wild one?” I headed down to the kitchen once again for another dose of caffeine.

“I’m always planning a wild one. How’s Queen Liz?”

“Oh she’s well. Sends her regards.”

“How thoughtful,” Viv laughed again.

“So…” I trailed off “Okay. I have a dilemma.”

“A sexy dilemma?” she demanded.

I blushed.


She squealed down the phone and I pulled it away from my ear, wincing.

“Tell me everything.”

“I met this guy…”

“Who? How? Where? What does he look like? What does he do? Does he have Facebook? Let me stalk him…” she interrupted.

“The how and where aren’t important…”

No way was I telling her that story without at least three glasses of wine.

“He’s… intimidatingly good-looking. Like, magazine-cover hot. Tall, clearly works out… blue eyes… and, god, all this gorgeous brown hair…” I trailed off and heard her whistle.

“Oh you have it bad.” She informed me. I cleared my throat.

“Yes well, I’m well aware of that… and so is he. I’m so on the back foot here. I don’t know how to do this stuff… the games. He’s so… I don’t know. Confident. Smooth. I don’t know how to keep up.”

“Oh yes you do,” Vic interrupted me “You are an absolute champion flirter. I’ve seen it in action. This guy just flummoxes you, that’s all. Have you fucked yet?”

“Viv!” I gasped, and cracked up.

“No! But he… well… we may have had a… rendezvous in the back of the cab last night.”

Viv whooped eryaman otele gelen escort and cheered all the way back in Australia.

“You saucy bitch, you took it literally when I told you don’t do anything in London that I wouldn’t do. You must be obsessed with this guy, normally it takes you — what — half a year to let a guy hold your hand.”

“Well that strategy isn’t going to work… I swear to god I’ve never been so desperate to jump into bed with someone in my life.” I confessed.

“So, do it!” she encouraged.

“But I feel like such a… I don’t know, a kid. I’m not good at this stuff…” I insisted.

“Grace,” Viv laughed “it’s easy. He wants you… you’re smart and funny and have a body to die for. Trust me, he’s going nuts for you, too. Just remember that. And for god’s sake, chill out.”

I sighed. She was right. I was being so uptight.

“And Grace?”


“You have to wear The Dress.”


I cleaned, and napped, and read a book, all the while obsessively checking my phone, checking the time.

I hadn’t replied to his texts… two could play games, and I wanted him to spend the day wondering about me.

Relieved the nap had removed the dark shadows the restless night’s sleep had left, I showered and blow-dried my blonde hair into silky waves that fell below my breasts. I kept my makeup simple, a dash of dark liner, shimmery powder, and a sheen of red lip tint to my lips.

I slipped on a pair of nude heels and a wispy lingerie set of a white lace thong and bra.

Tugging on the red dress I examined myself in an enormous mirror, standing up a little straighter.

I grinned at myself. I looked good. Damn good. Benjamin didn’t seem the type to beg, but at least this would get his attention.

The jitters amped up in the cab ride, as I worked to keep my breathing steady and even. I checked my phone to a drunk text from Viv wishing me luck. Smiling, it was just what I needed.

The restaurant was unpretentious, moody and dark, with a long and busy bar and a separate dining section. A large group of people waited impatiently in front of a harried-looking maître de, I brushed by them to get to the bar.

“I’m sorry, but we’re completely booked. If you come back at, say, 9pm…” I heard the maître de trail off and glanced back in surprise as he watched me walk past.

A quick flash of a grin passed my face. I wanted to thank him for the assurance.

Shouldering my way to the bar, a glance told me Benjamin wasn’t here yet. Scooting onto a barstool, the bartender came over to me.

“What can I get you?” he asked eagerly.

Wow, The Dress really does work, I thought.

I opened my mouth to order a martini, but a deep voice interrupted me.

“We have a table.”

Peeking up, I felt myself want to slide bonelessly off the stool. It was Benjamin, walking over to me with a dark look. He was studying me with ruthless intensity, the maître de trailing after him.

“Grace.” He murmured. In a white collared shirt carelessly unbuttoned under a slim navy suit, he looked every bit the wealthy, successful businessman. His collar-length rich brown hair was pushed back, a 5 o’clock shadow accentuating his jaw.

Rather than making me want to run and hide, the look in his eyes had me curving my lips in a humoured smile.

“You’re late,” I informed him. His eyes flickered to the bartender, still hovering behind me eagerly.

“Only by a few minutes. Shall we?” he held out his hand for me as the maître de waited to show us our table.

“Of course.” I smiled secretly to myself, collecting my bag off the bartop. Hesitating, I took his hand and stifled a groan at the way it felt in mine. He had the calloused palms of a labourer, I wondered in a lustful haze why. I felt my tongue go stiff in my mouth as I snuck glances at the man leading me to a a secluded table in the corner of the restaurant area. Benjamin cleared his throat as the poor staff member tried to pull out the chair for me.

“May I bring you a drinks list?” he squeaked.

“Please,” I smiled at him, feeling Benjamin glower. With a short smile, he hurried off and I turned to face my date.

“You’ve put out my new friends.” I informed him, as he pulled out the chair and gestured for me to sit down. I felt him stand behind me for a moment, brushing my shoulder with his thumb. I was sure it wasn’t an accident.

“Every man in here is looking at you.” he dipped his head next to mine to growl, his hot breath playing on my neck before moving on to his own chair. I felt myself smile as his hand balled up and then relaxed.

“You told me to wear red…” I said innocently. He looked at me hotly, sliding his gaze from my lips, down my throat as I swallowed thickly, to the swell of my breasts, before lingering on one long leg, crossed over the other — my foot bouncing nervously.

I crossed my legs the other way under the table as I felt the hot pulse of my pussy. That elicited one of his own quick grins, his smile charming and devastating.

He sincan escort always knew what I was thinking.

“What did you do today?” he asked in a low voice, propping his elbows on the table and pinning me with a hot look.

I leaned back further in my chair, willing myself to relax.

“A lot of nothing, really. I spoke with a friend back in Melbourne.”

“And what did you talk about?” he said softly, his gaze on my lips again.

“Nothing in particular,” I lied smoothly, ignoring the quirk of an understanding smile on his face… “What did you do?”

“I went in to the office for a few hours… but,” he took the wine list from a waitress, who gave him an appreciative look up and down, “I was distracted.”

I felt the hot flash of jealousy.

“I don’t even know what kind of wine you like,” murmured Benjamin, and I was captured in the deep blue of his eyes once again.

“Ah…” I lost my train of thought, “Why don’t you try and guess?”

He ordered a bottle of cabernet from the blushing waitress, not taking his eyes off me for a second.

“Why were you distracted at work today?” I whispered.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about… last night.” He said, resting his hand only centimetres from my arm. I shivered again. God, how I wanted him.

“About you, the way you feel… taste…”

I squirmed in my chair, utterly unable to speak, as the waitress interrupted us with the wine. Keeping his eyes on me, he gestured for her to let me sample the bottle.

“Um, yes. It’s delicious. Good guess.” I said breathlessly. The waitress took our meal orders and I blindly selected the first thing I saw on the menu, mentally telling myself off.

Get it together, woman.

“You look beautiful,” Benjamin said, pausing before flashing with a smirk, “Even more so, in that dress.”

“I’m glad you think so… I’ve never worn it before.” I confessed.

“Why not?” he said, curiously. I thought about it and decided to tell him the truth.

“Because I’ve never wanted to make a man beg before.”

His gaze became dark again, his fist clenching on the table. We stared at each other briefly before he picked up the bottle of dark liquid and topped off my wine, I caught a swift look of hunger pass over his body that made me press my thighs together.

As the conversation shifted, Benjamin completely charmed me, talking about his work, his family, his life.

He asked incessant questions, where I had gone to University, had I always wanted to be a reporter, who was my favourite author, my favourite cuisine… I swore I had never spoken so much in my life. He elicited quick bursts of laughter from me with wry humour and a mischievous likability.

The food came quickly, Scallops in rich white wine broth with thick slabs of ciabatta bread, a meltingly tender braised lamb with fennel. It was delicious, but I felt as If I could hardly eat.

Especially when I felt Benjamin’s hand rest on my knee.

All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room and I dropped my knife onto the floor with a sharp noise that disrupted the sultry restaurant air.

Benjamin smirked and traced a soft pattern on the inside of my thigh with his thumb.

My pussy grew wet and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the waitress brought me a new knife.

“Do you want to take a look at the dessert menu?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

“Actually,” Benjamin replied smoothly “I have dessert at my place.”

I let out a strangled laugh as the waitress pouted and moved away, and I shook my head.

“That’s terribly presumptive of you.”

He smiled.

“Is it?”

No. I wanted everyone to go away and leave us alone, all I wanted was to feel his touch, his mouth on mine, I wanted to taste him more than anything. Slowly, I shook my head and he paused before standing up quickly, taking my hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm.

I followed him out in a daze, as he pulled me along with him through the restaurant- paying the bill on the way out.

The street was busy, the air mild. He didn’t hesitate before gesturing wordlessly at an idle cab waiting for a fare ride. I slid into the car and Benjamin followed, giving his address to the cabbie.

This time, he didn’t touch me.

The distance between us felt electric, terse, desperate. I found myself gnawing on my bottom lip, nervous and so aroused I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Benjamin determinedly keep his eye fixed out the window, deliberately clenching and unclenching his fist on the seat between us.

“Here.” He instructed the cab driver, who pulled over, as Benjamin tossed a twenty pound note at him and hoarsely instructed him to keep the change.

Leading me out of the car we approached a converted red-brick warehouse transformed into chic apartments in the outer edges of Soho. Benjamin took my hand and led me in through a foyer, approaching an elevator.

As soon as we were heading to the seventh floor, elvankent escort the doors shut, he rounded on me and claimed my mouth. He swallowed my moan of surprise and pressed my back urgently into the sleek black wall of the elevator, grabbing my hand and pressing it to the hard swell of his erection. I gasped.

“This is what you do to me,” he growled before taking my mouth once again. I tentatively touched my tongue to his and cupped the heavy weight of his cock through his pants, causing him to curse under his breath.

“Grace… fuck.” He groaned.

The elevator stopped, approaching his apartment directly. We entered, panting with need. He took my handbag from me and dropped it carelessly to the floor, ignoring my meek protest to sweep his hand under my knees and gather me in his arms.

I moaned, reaching up to bite his earlobe as he took me into a masculine bedroom. It was all hard wood and dark blue bedding, the night’s sky endless outside — visible through a floor-to-wall window.

He dropped me onto the bed and I scrambled to reach for him, but he shook his head and moved away from my grasp.

“You’ve been driving me to distraction for weeks, Grace.” His voice was low, dangerous. I shivered.

“Ever since I caught you with your legs hooked over that chair… playing with that pretty little cunt… then the way you felt when you let me taste and touch you in the back of the cab last night…” he kept his eyes on mine, slowly stripping off his dinner jacket and running his eyes down the length of my body.

“It’s my turn.”

Wordlessly I pressed my thighs together as I felt the sticky flood of my pussy.

“Stand up and turn around.” He ordered hoarsely.

I did so, feeling myself shiver as he slowly ran his hands down my arms, to the sides of my hips, and back up. Slowly, slowly, he unzipped my dress and let it fall to the floor in a puddle of red silk.

“Look at me.” he whispered, and I turned to face him.

He slid his hand to tangle in my hair at the base of my neck, his hot assessing gaze raking over my body and making me bite my lip. His eyes watched the movement of my teeth and he gave another low growl before pushing my head up to meet his lips with a deep kiss, so intense it almost felt like anger. I had to stand on the tips of my toes as he gathered me in his arms, biting and licking my neck. His hand unsnapped my bra and it fell to the floor along with my dress, and he pushed me back onto the bed, eyeing me as he slowly stripped off his own shirt, shoes.

“Take off your thong. Slowly.”

I did as I was told, feeling the heat rising to my cheeks. I had been naked with men before, but this was… different.

His eyes never left me, a strained smile reaching his lips as he leaned forward and rubbed a thumb over one red cheek.

“I love when you blush,” he murmured “You’re so innocent.”

His hand trailed down to brush over one hardened, pink nipple. Keeping his gaze on mine, he couched beside the bed to take it in his mouth, biting gently before doing the same to the other.

“Please,” I moaned at his attentions. I felt him tense under my hands, curse under his breath.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

“Please… I…” my chest was heaving, and I felt a desperate ache between my legs “I… I need…”

“I know what you need.” He murmured, rising to undo his belt and remove his pants.

He was beautiful. Lightly golden like he had been spending days under the sun, with hard, muscular arms and a strong body. His hair fell forward in its dark, thick wave, and he pushed it back roughly with his hand as his cock sprang free of his clothes.

My mouth watered. He really was perfect. I glanced up at him, watching me look at him. His eyes were unfathomably dark and aroused. I tentatively moved forward to take him in my hand, wrapping it around his hard length and pumping down the length of him slowly.

“Fuck.” He hissed. Encouraged, I glanced up at him before taking him in my mouth.

He gripped his hands in my hair and I moaned, my mouth full of hot, hard male. I swirled my tongue around the length of him, making a small noise as he pushed his hips forward to fuck my mouth slowly.

My protest was suffocated when withdrew his cock, moving to cover my body with his, taking my mouth in desperate and deep kisses. I whimpered as I felt his fingers graze my clit, before pressing his fingers to feel my wetness. He gave a hoarse moan and deepened the kiss, our tongues meeting before he dragged my lower lip between his teeth.

“You’re wet for me.” he groaned approvingly, tracing a delicate pattern over my clit, down to my hot opening. I gave a sharp cry.

“Ben…” I gripped my hands on the steel of his upper arms as he slipped in a finger to tease my entrance, running it back up to rub the pouting pink clit. He chuckled as I moaned his name over and over again, as he slowly slid two fingers into my begging pussy.

“I… I…” I was breathless, maniacal. I needed him with a desperate fury, digging my nails into his arms and arching my back.

“Do you want something?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” I begged “yes. I need…”

“What?” his fingers slowed down, his thumb swiping over my clit, torturing me on the edge of climax.

“I need… you… please.”

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