Just a taste. A little bit to take the edge off before I get a condom and do this properly. Took care of her properly.
She shuddered. I gripped her hips, half guiding her, half lifting her to give us both a better angle. “Is this what you wanted?”
She didn’t answer so I stopped. And she slapped her hand on my desk and dropped her head to the surface. “Fucking hell. Don’t stop.”
All the encouragement I needed. I was barely keeping myself under control as is. I hiked her up again and pumped into her. She clawed both hands into my desk now and a fuse popped in my brain. I pushed into her over and over, my only thoughts revolved around getting more of her, getting more of myself inside her. She heaved a heavy sigh and her body quaked around mine. The first vestiges of her orgasm sparked through me, and I pumped faster, harder, deeper. She curled her arms in toward herself, and I caught a breathy ‘fuck’ as her end rolled over me. Mine matched hers in waves until I had to stop. I held myself inside her, both of us shivering and shuttering. The only sounds were our ragged breathing as we fought, mutually, to get it under control.
I blinked and the situation came into sharp focus. I’d meant to pull out, pause, do this thing safely. But once she challenged me I couldn’t have stopped, despite my best intensions.
I cleared my throat. “Stay there.” I carefully slid out of her, pulled up my pants, and went to get a towel.
When I returned she hadn’t moved an inch. I carefully wiped her off and fetched her discarded clothing from the floor.
Finally, she stirred. “Thank you,” she said, taking her clothes.
I wanted to say something, apologize for my roughness, offer to get a plan B pill. I had no idea what to say in this situation.
I opened my mouth to speak but she put her index finger against my lips. “Don’t ruin it.” She grabbed a bottle of Scotch from my bar, walked toward the door, and left with a languid smile on her lips.
Fuck. I was in trouble.
Nine
Mercy
Iwoke up curiously sore. The memory slowly seeped in on the edge of dreams and waking. I could still feel the hard press of his fingers latched on my shoulder. I’d no doubt have a bruise there. Perpetually low iron meant I bruised easily.
A memory from the past followed like a train car. God, the feel of Eddy’s fingers on my skin. Only the third time I’d had sex, all with him, we were kids. So young. That was the last time I came so hard I almost blacked out. I shoved the memory away, back in the hole where it belonged. I didn’t think about that part of my past.
I sat up and climbed out of bed, no dreams I wanted would arrive after that.
A knock on the door stopped me on the way. I snagged a t-shirt off the floor and slid it on.
“Come in,” I called, expecting Will.
But a small Hispanic man, only a built a little bigger than I was, opened the door and carried a tray inside.
I paused and jerked the hem of my t-shirt down. “Uh…hello.”
“Mr. Will thought you might want breakfast in here this morning.”
I pulled my mess of a ponytail from the back of my shirt and narrowed my eyes. “Did he?”
He ducked his gaze, sat down the tray, and headed for the door again. “He said he’ll come to you when he returns.”
With those parting words, he left.
Alone in the house for the first time. Was this some kind of test? It wasn’t one I was going to pass.
I snagged a coffee mug off the tray, along with a piece of the toast, and walked into the empty sitting room. Part of me expected him to jump out and shout, ‘Boo!’
Knowing him a little better now that I’d been here a couple days, I had to say his home sort of matched him. Tones of grays and black, all the decorations sparse, little there was turned out to be fancier stone like the granite and amethyst crystals I saw in one of the tables.
The elevator dinged open loudly and I jumped. My coffee sloshed dangerously but I steadied it as he stalked forward. “Snooping again?”
I did my best impression of his permanent scowl. “I’m literally standing here eating toast.”
His lip twisted to a whisper of a grin. “Likely story.”
