With a swift, decisive thrust, he sank into me, and yes. Fuck. Yes.
His lust became a roar in my ears and an assault on my body. He crushed me, crowding my legs between us while his balls slapped against my skin with the first in a series of pummeling thrusts.
He’d seemed so composed until now, and it was gratifying to watch him crumble. His eyes blazed, wild with need as he buried himself in me over and over again, lifting my hips off the floor to achieve the angle that made me…
Yelping, I spread myself wider, sucking shallow breaths and shuddering as Beck’s cock struck nerves like piano keys, playing a song of pleasure only I could hear.
Then came the gasps and the “oh, god, oh mygod,” and I needed something to shut me up before I managed to summon an actual deity.
I wished Beck would kiss me. I wanted so badly to know what it would feel like to have his mouth stitched to mine, capturing my cries and giving me life with every grunt and groan. I wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t. It wasn’t because I’d bitten him. He’d let me suck and nurse his cock too many times to be wary of that. It must have been something else.
Sweat formed a sheen across Beck’s forehead as he railed against me. My cock rubbed between us, leaking profusely. I thought I’d go numb from overwhelm, stop feeling entirely, or even pass out. Everything buzzed withstatic, and my fingers went white-knuckled where they wrapped around my shins, surrendering access to my most intimate parts.
My orgasm built, rushing to my head along with a pleasant cacophony of thoughts. I was here, thirty floors high in a tower that must have scraped the heavens, and I wasn’t afraid. I was happy, free, and full long before Beck came inside me with a shout.
My release chased his, a sudden surge that left my muscles trembling. Fluid pooled in the dip of my stomach as it rose and fell with my ragged, slowing breaths.
Beck didn’t pull out immediately; he never did. There was always a moment of pause. His cock softened while my ass clenched around it, milking out every drop of cum. My fingers were stiff from gripping my legs, which I carefully unfolded while Beck bent in and kissed my forehead.
I was too tired to pursue it this time—too spent. Hunger fatigued me, but satiety was an even stronger lure toward sleep. It was early, but I could have dozed on this rug with the city view beside me and Beck above.
He looked peaceful too as he withdrew, and I sighed. Reaching for our discarded clothes, he grabbed his shirt from the top of the stack and used it to clean me like he had before. I almost stopped him, loathing the idea of his pricey button-down being smeared with cum and sweat, but his doting expression as he moved the cloth over me left me speechless.
If we’d been at the club, and this had happened in the back of the limo, I’d already be halfway out the door. I would be sent scurrying to the nearest bathroom to clean the cum out of my ass.
But this wasn’t the club or the limo, so there was no rush as Beck finished his wipe down then flung the shirtaside. He bent over me again, holding my jaw and turning my head so he could kiss my cheek.
My eyes closed, and I told myself not to push for more. Maybe tomorrow I would ask why he withheld the one thing that had become so important to me.
Beck stood, then offered his hand. I took it and let him lift me upright. Once I was on my feet, I leaned in to press my nude body against his, sighing at the delicious contrast of his heat and the chill of the room. The massive window captured our reflection, and even in silhouette, I could see how perfectly we fit together. His broad shoulders closed around mine, and the few inches of height between us made his shoulder an ideal pillow for my weary head.
“What was it I said before?” he murmured, his voice husky. “One appetite at a time? Well, I’ve worked up an appetite for some real food. How about you pick something from the room service menu?”
Something about the words “room service” felt indulgent. Exciting. I nodded and padded over to the couch while Beck crossed to the kitchen area. He opened a drawer and pulled out a folded paper, then brought it to me with a casual kind of care, like this was something we always did, like we were accustomed to sharing space and late-night cravings.
I opened the menu across my thighs and scanned the list. A vegetarian option caught my eye—grilled portobello with a balsamic reduction and a side of truffle potatoes—and I pointed it out.
Beck gave a nod of approval before returning to our heap of clothes. He crouched and retrieved his slacks, then fished his phone from one of the pockets.
“I’ll call it in,” he said, already dialing. “We can shower while we wait.”
“We?” I asked.
He glanced up with amusement flickering in his eyes. “Unless you’d prefer to wash off alone.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Oh, no… we… together sounds nice.”
His smile was soft and certain. “I thought so.”
He turned back to the call while I sat on the edge of the couch, wrapped in the warmth of what we’d just shared.
After he hung up, he came around in front of me and offered his hand again. I rose without hesitation and followed him toward the bathroom with lightness in my step.
This fantasy wouldn’t last forever, but for tonight I was here, and this was home, and that was enough.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
