“You are amazing at your job.” I remind her.
“I am. But I came here to fuck, not to talk,” she says. “I also heard something else about you,” she whispers the words as I step closer, completely ignoring everything she just told me, as if it didn’t happen. And when it comes to her, I will remember every detail.
“And what is that?”
“It’s a secret. If I told you, I would have to kill you.” She winks, then pulls off her shirt, exposing her red, lacy bra. I bite my bottom lip as I watch her shimmy her skirt down her legs. “Get your beads, Arlo. And fuck me like you fuck your other women.”
I don’t bother arguing with her that she’s so different from those other nameless, faceless women. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. I lift my hand to her neck instead. “You’ll have marks on your perfect skin,” I warn. Pulling my hand away, I look at her pursed lips, barely resisting the urge to lean in and bite them. She pushes her panties off, bends down, and picks them up, then lifts them in front of my face.
“Open wide,” she orders. I do as she says, and she puts her panties into my mouth. “Get your beads… and don’t be gentle.”
Before I can stop myself, my hand is between her legs, finger sliding along her folds while I inhale the scent of her wafting up from the panties in my mouth.
Fuck, I love the way she smells.
“Get moving, or I’ll leave.” Her tone brooks no room for arguments, so I pull my hand away and head for my bedroom, where I left my beads on the nightstand. I pause as I feel the comforting weight of them in my hand. It’s the first time in a long time that I don’t want to use them.
Why is that?
My brain immediately starts analyzing the reasons why I feel the need to use them, and then another part argues about why I don’t.
But I don’t want to listen to that part.
She wants the beads, so I’ll give her the beads.
Removing her panties from my mouth, I open my nightstand drawer, where my gun is located, and drop them right on top of it. Pulling my shirt off, I toss it onto the bed and then kick off my pants before I walk out.
My cock is already hard. It has been since the moment she stepped into my home.
And now, I plan to make her use her manners.
On her knees.
TWENTY-NINE
CORA
When he returns from the bedroom, the only thing he’s wearing is the beads wrapped around his fist. His cock stands tall and hard, and I bite the inside of my cheek as he comes closer.
Was telling him to go hard on me a smart thing to do? Probably not.
But no other man has pushed me to my limits.
All the men I’ve been with have been soft. Weak. And while I enjoyed having sex with them, I’ve loved the way Arlo fucks me. The way he touches me is as if I’m not breakable.
“I want you to get on your knees,” he says, his voice calm but his eyes wild and hungry.
I do as he says, lowering down onto one knee followed by the other, his floor cold against my skin. He moves behind me and unclasps my bra, baring me completely. He circles me once, then stops in front of me.
“Touch me,” he orders. I start to lift my hand, but he makes a tsking sound. “With your mouth.” I lick my lips as I lean forward slightly, his cock in my face. I flick my tongue over his tip, and he grunts, so I do it again. Then I take the whole head into my mouth.
“Do you want me to touch you?” he asks. I release him and then nod. “Say, please.”
“Please,” I beg. I’m already wet.
“Stay on your knees.”
I remain where I am as he steps behind me again. His hand caresses my shoulder, tracing it ever so lightly before it moves lower to my breast. He covers it with his palm and squeezes it. Hard. Then he skims his hand even lower, leaning over me until he finds my clit. His face is now next to mine, and he says, “Turn your head and kiss me.”
