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Darcy broke off the good night kiss with a soft little frustrated moan and leaned away from T’Challa to press back against her apartment door. “Thank you, again,” she whispered, her voice low and rough. She cleared her throat like she was trying to clear her head. “I should go inside now, and you-“ she turned to twist the keys forgotten in her lock. “I’ll see you on Monday?”
“Hmmmm…” he agreed very vaguely and leaned into press a kiss against the side of her neck. “If this is your wish.”
Darcy shivered. This man, and everything about him, had such a way of undoing her. Whenever she was around him there was this intense thrill- a danger of him completely consuming her, heart and soul and will, and she let that danger drive her both closer to him as well as motivate her to keep some distance.
“As much as I wish you were inviting me into your home and your bed, I can also appreciate that you are trying to be a very good girl. I like that you are a good girl,” he sighed in his accented voice against the top of her shoulder and the words reverberated down her spine and straight to her core.
Hand freezing on her keys, Darcy clenched her legs together and whimpered.
Okay, that that’s a thing… Darcy thought as she turned around once more and slid her hand up to grip his tie and pull him just a little closer.
“And would it disappoint you if I did invite you in? Would you like it if I said I wanted to be your good girl,” she asked, putting the emphasis on the last three words.
T’Challa, King of Wakanda and Political Power player, growled and gripped her waist, pinning her between him and her door.
This time, Darcy’s noises were much louder. Two new kinks discovered in one night… and they weren’t even through the door yet.
She was in SO much trouble.