My own cock, now freed from its confines, bounces between my legs, long and heavy with need. His eyes fix on it and his tongue darts out to wet his lips again. I get a mental image of him on his knees, those gorgeous lips stretched round my cock as he takes it all.
“Well, maybe we’ll do that next time.” Fuck! What am I doing, letting my dick do the talking? This is a hookup; there won’t be a next time. Annoyed with myself, I spin round and walk over to the bed, giving my brain time to register the logic that just because I said it doesn’t make it a promise. I turn the lights down a little more and then reach my hand out to Simon. He stumbles forward to take it. I pull him towards me and turn him round. My no kissing rule only applies to mouths, so I plant a kiss on the back of his shoulder. I run a hand down his back, enjoying the feel of his creamy soft skin. He has a few faint freckles and a small mole above his arse crack, just right of centre, and I can’t help but run my fingers over it as if it’s a gateway to what lies below. I trace a finger down his crease, and when I reach his hole his head drops forward and he utters a low, needy moan that travels straight to my balls. I can’t wait any longer.
“Kneel on the bed,” I say softly and he does. His arse is a perfect peach, the mole enhancing its beauty like the final mark of an artist bringing the masterpiece together. I knead his cheeks gently and then spread them.
“Fuck that’s a pretty pucker,” I murmur, the words out before I realise I’ve spoken aloud. He chuckles and gives a little wiggle so his hole winks at me. It’s a tasty looking cake. I’d love to lick it, suck it, devour it, and thoroughly wreck it.
“Are you going to just look at it all night?” he asks, bringing me out of my contemplation.
“It’s worthy of admiration,” I retort, picking up the lube and coating my fingers.
“It’s also worthy of fucking, so are you going to fill me with that big dick of yours or am I gonna have to beg?”
“The only begging you’ll be doing is for me to stop,” I growl.
“Good,” he says, and as I breach him with one finger, he pushes back until it can’t go any further. “Finally,” he sighs, as I give my finger a few sharp thrusts and twists.
I quickly add a second finger, scissoring them to open him further. For all his talk I don’t want to hurt him. Even when he utters that he’s ready I take a little more time, which produces a few impatient growls from him. They’re adorable, and if it wasn’t for my balls aching like they’re about to explode, I’d be tempted to carry on just to hear him a few more times. I tear open the condom and sheath my cock, smoothing some lube over the length. At the sight of his hole, open and waiting for me, I can’t help but give myself a few long hard strokes... until I’m told off.
“Less looking, more fucking,” he says, and I chuckle because I like demanding bed partners.
I line my dick up with his hole and breach him with the tip. I grab his hips to stop him thrusting back. As much as I need this and want to be balls deep in him, I love that first feeling... of thepressure building and his hole gripping each part of my length as I push deeper. His low moan tells me he’s enjoying it too. I pause for a couple of seconds as I bottom out, then I move with long thrusts, and give myself over to the rhythm. I dig my fingers into his hips, moving him back and forth too. Fuck, it’s been too long, and even longer since it was this good. I pick up speed, ramming into him hard, a primal urge to fill him. All I can hear is our panting breaths and the slap, slap, slap of flesh on flesh as the perfect accompaniment to a violin concerto. The music reaches a crescendo as my balls tighten and I slam harder. He cries out as his orgasm hits him, and his hole clenches round me, pulling mine from me. Even then it takes me a while to stop moving. I withdraw from him and he collapses forward onto the bed. I pull off the condom, dropping it into the bin in the bathroom as I dampen a cloth for him to clean up. He takes it from me, preferring to do it himself, which he does before handing it back.
When I get back from the bathroom he’s already reaching for his clothes.
“I should go, I have an early start.”
I do too, but I get what he means, and this is a hookup so there’s no reason to stay. As he pulls on his boxer briefs I see red marks blooming on his hips.
“Sorry about those.” I indicate and he looks at them.
“Oh, they’ll be fine. Something to remember you by when the burn in my arse has eased,” he says brightly with a smile. A strange sense of unease lodges in my chest at his words, as if I don’t want to just be something to be remembered, the memory fading like the colours of a bruise.
I sit on the bed as he finishes dressing.
“Well, um, thanks,” he says suddenly, sounding awkward.
“Thank you, Simon. I enjoyed that a lot.”
“Yeah, well, if you ever need some more, er . . . carrots for your horses, you know where I am.”
He goes to the door and pokes his head out, checking the corridor is empty before darting out. The door shuts with a soft click behind him, and I stare at it for a while, the music still adding to a post-orgasm high that’s addled my brain. Did he mean carrots, or was he offering me another hookup? I never go back twice—it’s always been my rule, along with the no kissing—which has probably contributed to why I’ve had very few long-term relationships. But it’s always suited me that way.
I turn off the music and climb into bed. As I drift off to sleep, I wonder if Simon might be worth breaking my rule for. It won’t be for long anyway, as I fly out of here in five days to start my new life, so it can’t hurt.
CHAPTER THREE
SIMON
I fall asleep as soon as I crawl into bed only to be woken again almost immediately, at least it feels like it. I kill the alarm and look bleary-eyed at the time. It’s definitely correct. I don’t get much sleep if I have to work the morning shift straight after one the previous evening, even less if I’m going to hook up with rich playboys. But I’ve survived on less sleep before, so I’ll be fine.
I stretch sleepily and allow myself an extra minute in bed to think about last night. How he was good with my uneducated questions about horses, and encouraged me to meet them. Then his offer of a hookup. He was considerate, even though he took exactly what he needed from me. To be honest, as soon as I saw his amazing dick, I’d have taken anything he offered. That we wanted the same thing was a big plus, one I’ll be feeling for most of the day. I luxuriate in how his hands felt on my skin, the softest of touches at first in contrast to how he dug into my hips, his need taking over as he filled me over and over. It’s been a long time since I had sex that good.
I don’t regret it, not for a second. In fact I feel flattered. I know how much those suites cost; I did a little research when I decided to come here to work. You can learn a lot from the prices of the rooms and the reviews. So Andrés must have some serious money. But then, he admitted he had seventeen horses, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. So a man that rich and good looking could have his pick of people to hook up with, perhaps someone who didn’t stare like a naive yokel when faced with gilt furnishings. Maybe he’s regretting it now.
I push that uncomfortable thought out of my head. What does it matter? It was a hookup, a one-time thing. Sometimes we do regret them afterwards. I know, I’ve had my share of those too. But the thought that he might creates an uneasiness low down in my belly. I don’t want him to regret me.
“This is foolish. It was one time,” I sigh and push myself to get out of the narrow bed in my room. The staff quarters are functional rather than comfortable, but at least I don’t have to share a room like some of the others. I quickly shower, shave, and dress, and crunch my way over to the hotel. Stefan, the next in line to me, is already in the kitchen when I arrive. He gives a slight tut and shakes his head with a smile. We have a small friendly competition about who arrives first in the morning. The loser has to make the coffee that’ll fuel us for the next few hours. I rarely lose.
