I liked giving head. I liked the power dynamic. Normally the slight lack of intimacy appealed to me as well. Sucking a man’s cock didn’t make me vulnerable; it made himvulnerable, which in and of itself was an intoxicating combination. But things were different with Ford. This wasn’t about the power dynamic between us—at least not completely. It was more about giving him pleasure, watching his reactions and adjusting my movements to take him closer and closer to the edge without tipping him over.
I tugged gently on his testicles with one hand, while my other fist followed my mouth up and down his shaft, squeezing when I got to the crown in a way that made his body tight and his hips thrust against me. It was a delicious sensation. Heady, and one I could keep doing all day if I thought he’d survive it.
I’d planned to take him up a couple of times before finishing him with my mouth but now that he was here stretched out in front of me, I wanted more. I wanted to take him inside me and ride him until he came apart under me. I wanted it more than made sense considering I’d already come once.
“Stop, cher.” His voice was rough, pained.
I froze, my lips wrapped around his head and my fist tight. I opened my eyes and met his gaze.
“Keep doing that, and I’m going to come.” He squeezed his hands on the headboard, flexing his arms as he adjusted his grip.
I wanted those hands on me. Fisted in my hair, gripping my hips, cupping my breasts. I released him and sat up, loving his groan of disappointment as I rocked back on my heels, moving further away from him.
“New plan.” I crawled up his body, straddling his hips.
For a moment, I simply rocked against him, letting the length of his cock slide through my sex without getting near the opening. He thrust up to meet me, putting exquisite pressure on my already swollen clit. I was pretty sure I could ride us both to climax without ever taking him inside me.
I wanted him inside me.
I stretched over him to grab the condom I’d left on the nightstand, and he caught my breast with his mouth, latching onto my nipple and sucking hard. It made it impossible to think. Made it impossible to do anything but feel his mouth against my flesh. Feel the way every tug of his lips wove a connection between my nipple and my clit, making me achy. Needy. Empty.
“If you want me to fuck you, you have to stop,” I said when I finally managed to catch my breath.
I watched decisions war across his face, and I fucking loved that he was weighing giving up what I was sure he wanted in favor of what he thought I wanted. My plan let us have both.
“Let me, Ford.” I pulled back and shifted my weight just enough to slide the condom down his length. As soon as he was sheathed, I raised myself over him, notching his cock at my opening. “You can let go.” I laced my words with meaning, releasing him from more than keeping his grip on the headboard.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, his hands were gripping my hips, anchoring me as he thrust into me. I leaned forward, putting my breasts in front of his mouth. He wrapped his lips around my nipple, sucking hard, and my sex clenched in response. His answering groan rumbled against my sensitive skin, setting up some kind of pleasure feedback loop. And then we started to move together, me sinking onto him as he thrust into me, and suddenly nothing mattered. Fuck, nothing else existed but the feeling of our bodies moving together, driving each other on. Closer and closer to the edge.
There was no gradual build up, no wave of pleasure to ride to completion. The climax was a tornado that picked us up and spun us around, leaving us with no choice but to cling to each other to keep from getting ripped to shreds.
“Ford.” His name felt part plea, part prayer. I didn’t have enough air for anything else.
“I’ve got you. God, Charlotte, come for me, love.”
My body tightened around him as if I’d been waiting for his permission instead of the other way around. My sex clenched and the orgasm rolled through me, stealing my breath. Stealing everything but the man underneath me. Inside me, holding me as I fell apart. As soon as I cried out, he followed, his thrusts desperate and erratic until I felt his cock pulse as he emptied himself.
I collapsed on his chest, my head tucked under his chin, his arms wrapped around me, waiting for my breathing to slow to something close to normal. When I’d come up with my plan, it seemed like the perfect way to separate emotions from the sex. Lying in Ford’s arms, feeling his cock still inside me, I was having a hard time remembering why that was important. Why I couldn’t lie there, his chest rising and falling under my cheek as he stroked my back until we drifted off to sleep.
The alarm on my phone buzzed, letting me know I had an hour before I had to be at my dinner meeting. Barely enough time to clean up and change my clothes. No time at all for afterglow.
Just the way I’d planned.
I started to move and Ford tightened his grip reflexively before letting me climb off him. He went to deal with the condom. By the time he returned from the bathroom, I was mostly dressed, if not exactly presentable. Surprise flickered across his face but he quashed it just as quickly. The man was as good at mastering his expressions as any attorney I’d come across. It made seeing the genuine ones more precious.
“That was lovely. I’m sorry; I’ve got to bolt. Client meeting in less than an hour,” I said, trying to slide some of the reluctance I felt into my voice to ease the sting of my hasty exit. “Let me know when we’re cooking again.”
I tipped my face up to kiss him—not as difficult with him barefoot and me in heels, but still a stretch. His arms came around me for a moment as he pressed his lips to mine, but he didn’t push. As I closed the door behind me, I wondered whether the disappointment I felt was from having to leave or him not trying to persuade me to stay.
“IS THERE A REASON WE have to listen to this shit? Torturing me with the weights isn’t enough for you?”
I’d been in a foul mood since Charlotte left me naked and alone in a hotel room the day before. Yanking a brute force bag into the air and curling it into my arms over and over had done nothing to improve my mental situation. I mean, what was thatit’s been lovely, byebullshit she’d pulled? She said she had a client meeting, which was probably true. I mean, I didn’t have any reason to believe it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop my suddenly paranoid brain from inventing all kinds of imaginary dinner dates for her—or even worse, imaginary after-dinner dates.
Fuck me.
She’d been clear with her expectations. I’d been clear too, more or less. Just because I wanted things I hadn’t shared with her didn’t mean we still couldn’t have them. It didn’t mean she’d climbed out of bed with me to have dinner with another man.
I’d let the L-word thing slip, but honestly, the woman had me so twisted up in knots, it was hardly my fault. Surely that wasn’t why she’d made such a quick exit. It’s not like I’d said the three words. I’d simply substitutedloveforcher. It was an endearment, nothing else. No reason for a grown woman to bolt post-coitus before I’d even had a chance to catch my second wind.
