“There’s one,” he pants as he pulls out of me. He reaches for the soaked fabric of the massive t-shirt that I forgot I was wearing and he slips it over my head, baring my body to him with a feral grin that makes him graze his teeth over his lower lip while his eyes scan over me. He turns my back to him and pulls my arms behind me, securing them together tightly at the wrist with the ruined shirt. “Now for two.”
I look over my shoulder at him. “But you haven—”
I feel a finger lightly trace over the skin of my ass and can make out the sound of Eric drawing in a sharp breaththrough his teeth. “Motherfucker,” he growls, I think mostly to himself.
Without another chance to question or protest, I’m lowered onto the floor of the shower, the water beating down on my back, and Eric lifts my ass into the air, forcing my cheek to press against the floor of the shower next to the discarded pair of shorts.
I feel his tongue drag up the curve of my ass, and then I feel his teeth. He nibbles at my skin, biting his way up my back in a slow trail until he reaches the nape of my neck. It must be bare, because I feel him hesitate, just for a second, before his hands find my hips and he pulls me onto his cock with a low groan.
I work my hips against him, my hands desperately trying to find their way out of my restraints so that I can better support myself, but they’re really in there securely. There’s no getting them out from the knotted fabric surrounding them. Eric’s hand finds it way around my throat, lifting my body to a sitting position on his lap, and the other hand crawls down between my legs, running his fingers on either side of my throbbing clit. I let out a loud moan, bucking at the contact.
“Oh my...god,” I shudder.
“Are you already gonna come again?” He taunts me. He’s so proud of himself right now, I could slap him if I had access to my hands.
...But yes, yes I am.
I whine as he works his fingers faster against my clit, sending jolts of electricity up my spine, and I let my head fall backward against him while I ride his cock.
My body shakes while I fall apart again, crying out as another orgasm takes hold of me and I inadvertently clamp his hand between my thighs in the process, panting desperately while his mouth meets my neck in a groan. His teeth clamp down hard on my skin and I feel his cock pulse inside of me, warming me from the inside as he comes with me.
Yeah… I’m his.
TWENTY-THREE
Sophia
I slip into a fresh set of Eric’s clothes, tossing the sopping wet ones into the hamper that now houses the shirt that he had slung over his shoulder when he got home. The one that he was wearing when he…
I shake my head, trying to force the thought from my mind.
He was trying to protect me, that’s all.
Climbing onto his bed, my knees sink into the plush material of his duvet. He may not spend a lot of time here, but he invests in quality bedding, and I can definitely respect that. I’m just surprised by it; he seems like a superstore cotton-blend bedding kind of guy. No frills. Certainly not a thread count higher than two hundred, but this feels more like seven or eight.
“You gonna keep fondling the blankets, or you gonna get under ‘em?” Eric drawls, staring at me with an arched brow and a crook in his smile that makes me melt.
“Hold your horses, cowboy,” I tell him as I crawl closer.
“Never had any,” he winks. “Always wanted one, though.”
Dropping onto the bed next to him, I pull up the covers until they reach my thighs, then turn on my side and face him,propping myself up on my elbow. “Why don’t you actuallylivehere?”
“How do you mean, Sugar?”
“I mean you don’t live here. Your stuff is here and you sleep here, but your friend said you’re hardly ever here, and I can tell just by looking around that he’s right,” I explain. “I’m just curious as to the why.”
He pauses for a second, pursing his lips while he mulls over the question in his mind. Looking at him, you would think that he’s just been asked to perform some really difficult mental math.
I worry for just a second that I may have pushed too far by asking; it’s none of my business, at the end of the day, is it? I’d like to think that I know him well, but I haven’t known himlong. Maybe the answer isn’t something that I’m entitled to, yet. I know I have my own secrets that he doesn’t get to know yet.
“I don’t like the quiet,” he finally answers.
Now that I think about, that makes sense for him. We were always in a loud, crowded place in Cancun, and if we weren’t, we were in his suite where he almost always had loud music or a TV show playing somewhere in the room. If I had to guess, I’d bet that he doesn’t like to be alone, either.
In some ways, we’re so alike; but in others, I don’t think that we could be more opposite. I love the quiet. Sure, I like to crank up my favorite songs and dance my heart out or to go to parties and be around a huge crowd of people, but I recharge in the quiet of my own company, with nothing but the sound of my thoughts and the city outside of my window.
Eric’s company recharges me, too – and that scares me.
