Intense Obsession - Lorene’s Allure & Adam's Desire

Lorene’s POV

He was watching her again. His look was that of a wolf eyeing up a lamb. Slowly through my lashes I let myself glance his way. Imposing wasn’t enough of a word to describe the big American.

He wasn’t the tallest man in the room. He wasn’t even the biggest, but without a doubt he was the strongest. Physically for sure, because I had seen his hands, hands that had known hard labor, but in general he seemed to exude an aura of power. Like a storm barely managed, but able to break forth with devastation at a moment’s notice.

What on earth was a man like him doing in a high society party such as this one? He was out of place entirely within this gilded world of finery and fickleness.

The look in his eyes when not watching me was one of wildness to be free of the place. He didn’t strike me as a man who conformed to others wishes and yet he was here and over all the women in the room it was me that he watched.

His stare had a curious effect, it made me feel very much alive. In a way it must be what prey animals felt when they knew that a predator was near.

It was said that of my day I was one of the most beautiful women there was and truly I had no end of admirers and subsequent marriage proposals because of it, but for the most part I ignored them all. This man’s infatuation with me was different however.

Instead of a plea in his eyes to be near me they instead said that they owned me and I felt the intensity of his stare keenly as if he peeled me layer by layer out of my clothing.

I fully met his gaze and stared boldly into his eyes from across the room. For a moment it seemed as if we were the only two people in the room.

My eyes blurred as I forced myself not to blink. I was not going to be the first one to look away.

His possessive demeanor over me was annoying and I wanted to show him that I…. that I was not daunted by him. Was that really the truth, though? I blinked and quickly looked away.

Turning I moved with a swish of my skirts away from the scene of my defeat.

My breath unsteady I made my way through the pressed throng offering out fake smiles and greetings in turn, as after all I was the hostess of my father’s party.

Finding a pathway of escape I ducked outdoors and made my way out onto a veranda.

The party raged on inside gaily, but I stood in the cool night air breathing hard as if I had just finished running a race. The rapidity of my breaths only underschooled the amount of cleavage I was showing.

I had a lot to show and almost half of it was on display with the promise of more should a strap of my gown give way. Ultralow necklines were th fashion of the moment in Paris, but I very much wished that I had not bowed to fashion’s dictates, at least for this evening.

I’d seen it in his eyes. I’d seen the reality that this man would approach and when he did his fingers would delve into my bodice and lift my breasts free as he gazed at them wolfishly, fully intent to taste them with his mouth.

Lust was nothing new on the part of men for me to encounter, but he was different. It was like the look in his eyes signaled an event that had already happened...

Biting at my full lower lip I fought the urge to try to pull my dress up higher even as a dampness spread into my undergarments in a clear sign that I as a woman had recognized the reality of a

man worth mating. My nipples throbbed duly even as my breasts swelled against what little material still clothed them.

As I stood on the veranda, the cool night air caressed my heated cheeks, providing a welcome respite from the suffocating atmosphere inside. The distant sound of laughter and music seeped through the closed doors, a reminder of the extravagant festivities unfolding within. Leaning against the intricately carved railing, I let my eyes wander over the moonlit garden below.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees, casting ever-shifting shadows on the vibrant blooms. The scent of jasmine and roses mingled in the air, creating a sensory tapestry that momentarily distracted me from the intensity of the encounter I had just experienced. I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment of solitude amidst the chaos.

A faint smile played at the corners of his lips as he leaned against the veranda railing, mirroring my stance. The silence between us held an unspoken tension, thick with unvoiced desires and unanswered questions. His gaze, no longer as possessive as before, held a glimmer of curiosity and a touch of vulnerability.

I studied him carefully, his face now illuminated by the pale glow of the moon. The lines etched on his weathered features spoke of a life lived on the edge, a life marked by strength and perseverance. There was a rawness in his eyes, a fierceness that mirrored the untamed wilderness lurking within his soul.

As the party continued to echo in the distance, we stood there, two souls on the precipice of an uncertain path. The moon watched over us, casting its ethereal light upon our intertwined destinies. In that moment, I made a choice. I would embrace the allure of the unknown and embark on a journey that would forever change the course of my life.

I felt a shiver run down my spine, a strange amalgamation of fear and anticipation. The enigmatic stranger had managed to unravel a part of me that I had kept hidden for so long—a part that craved adventure, unpredictability, and a taste of the forbidden.