“But I’m so comfortable now,” I replied, snuggling into the couch, “and I don’t know what’s in it for me.”
“Ha ha ha,” she said in a monotone before she fell silent, snuggled to my side.
A guy could get used to this. My heavy eyelids stayed closed. I considered just how easy it would be to get used to and drifted at the doors of sleep.
The warmth at my side shifted. The hand across my chest disappeared. My groggy eyes opened and found Emma’s Turner blues wide on her frozen face. I snatched her retreating arm and pulled her on top of me.
“Trying to escape on me?” I teased, hands sliding under the hem of her dress.
“Some of us don’t need afternoon naps,” she shot back, “especially after being drugged. I figured I’d go for a walk, burn off some energy.”
“I can think of some better ways,” I said.
My fingers slipped under her knickers. With handfuls of her plump ass, I rolled her on top of me. My cock had recovered during the nap she’d mocked me for. It rubbed against her, half hidden by the hem of her skirt.
Her lips cracked with a lopsided smile, her teasing grin. She ground herself against me and pushed up until she towered over me.
“You were adequate the night we met, I might be willing to give you another try,” she said.
“Adequate?” I growled and squeezed her ass. “I don’t do adequate. No, I’m like heroin. One prick and you’ll crave me, itch for your next injection.”
“And so modest!” Her head fell back with a chuckle, thin and forced.
“Oh, I bet you dream about our wedding night,” I said. My fingers explored further under her knickers. They brushed between her legs. She shifted her hips, pushed herself against my hand, as eager as I was. That night had stayed alive in my own fantasies.
“I dream about you paying me what you owe me,” she said before sucking in a breath, “with interest. So are you going to fuck me or just keep bragging about how good you are?”
“I can multitask.”
My hands clawed at her knickers. Twisting, they ripped through the cotton. Emma rocked her hips, sliding herself against me without barrier.
“I’d add that to your bill if I liked them,” Emma said.
She rose on her knees and guided me. My hands returned to her ass as she lowered and I filled her. Breasts heaved with her heavy breath, head tilted back, eyes half lidded.
“Am I as good as you remember?” I teased.
Her nose twitched. Hips rose and fell in a sedate rhythm, almost too slow. She slapped a hand against my chest, fingers bunched my shirt. Her breath sped before her hips.
“It’d be better if you were a mute,” she panted. “Maybe some music next time.”
“Next time?”
I met her rhythm with my own thrusts, faster to push her along. Her half-lidded eyes opened and blue rings glared at me. Darker reds dusted her pink cheeks.
“Well, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be stuck here.” She downplayed her unintentional disclosure. “And I have to exercise if I’m going to maintain this body.”
“I’d be remiss as a host if I didn’t offer exercise facilities,” I said.
Her other hand moved to my chest. With fistfuls of my shirt, she bucked on top of me.
“Wouldn’t want a bad Yelp review, would you.” She let out a throaty moan and her shoulder trembled.
My hands slid up her sides. They cupped her breasts then pushed higher. My fingertips glided over her skin at the conservative neckline. When they hooked over it, her eyes flew open, glanced between my hands and into my eyes. She nodded.
“Not a big fan of the dress either,” she breathed. “The way I left things in Paris, it’s not like I need it anymore.”
Before she’d even finished talking, I started tearing. The fabric split down her front. My fingers moved under her bra’s cups. It snapped between her breasts. Her pale flesh quaked with their freedom. My hands forgot to tear further, needing to touch her.
