by Shayne Ford
Expertly, he keeps strumming the sensitive flesh while slamming into me.
My chest crushes against the tiles, my legs quickly getting unstable. His hot breath sears my neck as moans creep up my throat.
“You like it...” he says.
It’s not a question really, but I nod.
I do fucking like it. More than I care to admit.
My body jerks with each thrust as he keeps pounding me with his hard cock.
I start to tense and shake, and then he smoothly shifts his lips away. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he grips my waist and pulls my locks back, making me arch even more.
Planting my palms on the wall, I curve the way he wants me. Swiftly, he picks up the pace and starts hammering me. Our moans blend into our heavy breaths, echoing in the room.
Pleasure soars through us.
His grunts roll in my ears as he unleashes a pounding force and pushes me to my high. With me, he comes, his warm load filling my core.
Slowly, we scale down, my center still tingling and throbbing.
My hair slips free from his fist as my body starts to slacken. Pressing his chest against my back, he kisses my hair.
“You just passed another test,” he says with a light tone, a smile threading through his voice.
LEX
Naked, she follows me into the kitchen.
Her hair drapes over her shoulders, her face glowing with a soft smile. I pull a couple of glasses from a cupboard and uncork a bottle of wine. The ruby liquid licks the glasses as I pour it in.
I hand her a drink while furtively running my gaze over her perky chest, flat stomach and nipped waist. For a moment I get sidetracked as I take in her tight curves and the soft flesh between her legs.
I flick my gaze up.
She tilts her head to the side and gives me a questioning look.
She caught me.
Grinning, I raise my glass.
“For our weekend in the countryside,” I say.
She lifts her glass as well, studying me from behind the glass.
We both take a sip, her cheeks instantly getting flushed.
“Not used to drinking, huh?”
She shakes her head and takes another swig. Mesmerized, I watch the tip of her tongue, sliding across her lips.
Blood starts to pump again between my legs. Her eyes dip to my hand as I slight brush my bulge through the soft fabric of my sweatpants.
Her nipples harden.
She sets the glass on the side and hops on the wooden table. Legs parted.
Great minds think alike.
Lifting an eyebrow, I slowly part my lips and curl them into a smile.
“That’s my girl...” I say, sliding my glass to the side as well.
Sitting on the edge, she props herself back on her hands and opens her legs wide.
I can’t even crush my wolfish smile.
I’m fairly sure no one taught her that in college.
Taking a small step, I lodge myself between her thighs. She straightens her back and slinks her hands inside my pants, slowly sliding them down to my hips.
My cock springs free.
She runs one hand up and down my length, the other tenderly stroking my balls. That wasn’t in the curriculum either.
Curling an arm around her waist, I lean closer to her.
She tips her face up.
“Keep doing that baby...” I murmur against her lips.
The scent and taste of wine spill between us as she starts nibbling on my lips. Teasing me, she gets me iron hard.
“You’re a tough nut to crack, Lex Harrington,” she mutters softly.
“Why would you say that?” I ask, smiling slyly.
“There are so many things I want to know about you. Now even more than before.”
“What is it that you want to know?” I say quietly.
She locks my eyes for a few moment sinking her gaze deep.
A bittersweet smile tugs at her lips. Her fingers splay on my chest.
“For one, I’d like to know if you have a... heart?”
Her gaze drops to my lips, her voice lined with sadness. I take in her beautiful face.
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“Everything,” she says, her fist sliding up my cock, slowly stroking me with a slight twisting motion.
She smiles, her cheeks turning red with a blush, and yet melancholy flashes in her eyes.
“Why is it so important to you?”
A shadow rushes across her face as if I stepped on pain.
I feel her hurt.
“It’s not,” she says with a colder voice.
Fucking great.
“I do have a heart...” I say, my hand sliding through her hair, brushing the column of her neck, and cupping her face.
“Then, why––”
Her words get buried in the softness of my kiss, her hand stalling on my erection as I, unhurriedly and tenderly, let her see my heart.
It’s the least that I can do.
She moans softly in my arms, and I break the kiss and look at her.
Her eyes shine with a newfound light.
“Is that better?” I ask, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
She nods softly, her eyes glistening with emotion and I feel a chain locking around my heart.
She’s so beautiful and vulnerable... So easy to crush. And she is so mine.
I feel her so close to me and open... And I don’t think she knows how good she is.
She dips her gaze to my lips, giving me that hungry look again... as if she wants to feed herself again. I kiss her again, her body quickly warming up against mine. Soon my blood starts boiling.
She wraps her free arm around my torso as I pull her into me. My balls press against her crotch, my cock sliding through her lower lips, rubbing her clit.
She keeps caressing my hard flesh while her tongue dances with mine. Her eyes close, and her back arches as she slips in a trance.
She’s so fucking hot.
She leans back again, and props on her hands, her legs wrapping around me as I hover over her.
A tremble shakes her thighs, her moans rolling in my mouth.
She lifts her legs as I pull away slightly only to drive my hard-on into her. She shudders with pleasure. I bring her to me, filling her to the brim. Over and over again. The shudder intensifies as her hot center starts pulsing around me.
“That’s how you fucking do it...” I growl, almost tipping her over the edge.
Hands clutched onto my neck, and eyes swimming with arousal, she parts her lips voicing a crying moan.
“Fuck...” she mouths, her eyes going blank, a faint smile setting on her lips.
Her rush fuels my pleasure as she starts to come. We fall into each other, wild and hungry, feasting as if we do it for the first time.
10
Dahlia
I wake up in bed with Lex Harrington.
Let me say that again.
Lex Harrington is in my bed.
Butt naked, face buried in a pillow, lying flat on his stomach. Faint light filters through the drapes, rolling over his muscular back and ass.
His tousled blonde hair covers the back of his neck.
The bed is wide, the mattress soft, stocked with pillows and a warm cover, fitting perfectly into the cottage style decor.
It’s a welcoming home, which seems not to be inhabited. In perfect order, nonetheless.
I wonder if there’s coffee in the kitchen. I slip off the bed and stroll across the hallway to the other end of the house.
In the cupboard, I find a sealed bag of coffee. I set the coffee maker and wait, my gaze swinging to the window. A small pond stretches in front of the house.
A few moments later, I pour freshly brewed coffee into a mug and start walking toward the bedroom. The sound of a key turning in the lock makes me freeze.
I set the cup on the kitchen counter, swivel my head toward the entrance and dash away, not fast enough though,
and a blonde woman shoots me a surprised glance from the doorway.
Her gaze swings to my naked butt.
Frantic, I cover my ass with my hands, sprint away, burst into the bedroom, and jump into the bed.
“Lex??”
I shake his shoulder while trying to keep my voice silent.
He quietly growls but doesn’t turn to me.
“Yes...” he mumbles in the pillow.
“There’s a woman in the kitchen,” I breathe out.
“A woman?” he asked unfazed.
“Yes,” I say under my breath.
“It’s her house...” he says, calm.
And sleepy.
Leisurely, he covers his naked ass.
“Hello there...”
The woman’s voice echoes in the doorway.
Her eyes land on me first. Swiftly, I slip under the sheet and glue to him, elbowing him at the same time.
He rolls to his back and props himself up, his eyes barely open.
His morning erection stirs up as well, pushing the sheet. Helpful, I palm his cock, pushing it down.
Quiet laughter simmers in his chest.
Unfazed, he looks at the woman, who doesn’t seem to be catching on. Or maybe she did, and she doesn’t show it.
“I thought you come back on Sunday,” he says, cocking an eyebrow, ignoring my meltdown and taking in the woman.
Her face brightens with a smile.
“I thought so too, but they made last minute changes,” she says as I flick my eyes back and forth between them, his shaft searing my hand, and twitching beneath my palm.
I glance at him.
He must do it on purpose.
“How’s London?” she asks him.
“Good.”
The woman’s eyes turn to me. I tug the sheet up to my chin.
Maybe someone cares to fill me in.
She takes a step toward the bed and stretches her hand out.
I offer mine. The free one.
“He does it intentionally to annoy you,” she says, and for a moment I freeze, my blood drawing from my face.
What is she talking about? Is she...? No. It can’t be that. She notices my baffled expression.
“He wants you to believe I’m some fling to make you jealous,” she adds. “Hi. My name is Jolie. I’m his cousin.”
I shake hands with her, and then I glare at him.
“Why would you let me freak out?” I ask.
They share a chuckle.
She spins around.
“Okay, I let you two love birds catching up. I’m in my room, unpacking.”
She walks out, and I slap him on his chest.
“Your face was fucking priceless,” he says, burying me under him.
His eyes start to clear as he focuses his gaze on me.
“How can you freak out so easily?” he asks softly, caressing my face.
“I’m not.”
“You’re still trembling.”
I run my hands up his body, sweeping his butt and back. My eyelids go down slowly as I feel his full erection pressed against my clit. My gaze dips to his lips.
“I’m not,” I mutter, getting hotter by the second.
“Yes, you fucking are...” he says quietly while grinding into me.
I lock my legs around him.
“We can’t be doing this now...” I say slowly, my voice sounding as if I’m high.
He grins and nods, his hand grabbing my ass.
“Yes, we fucking can...” he mutters, filling me to the brim.
DAHLIA
It turns out, Jolie who’s twenty-nine and very much into women, works as a stylist for a high-end fashion firm and travels all over Europe.
Despite catching me butt naked in her kitchen, she turns out to be extremely hospitable and friendly with me.
An hour later, we all walk into a small Bed and Breakfast nearby and have a traditional breakfast.
We spend the day together, and early afternoon, Lex and I drive back to London.
The trip back or perhaps the rainy weather shifts his mood, and by the time we get back he becomes taciturn, for the most part staying deepened into his thoughts, paying little attention to me.
The moment we enter the hotel, he excuses himself and vanishes inside his suite, tossing at me that he needs to make some calls.
Torn, I retreat to my room.
For an hour or so, I sit on the bed and absently check messages on my phone, my mind spinning waywardly.
He sends me a quick message around seven o’clock with instructions for the evening, and I finally peel myself off the bed and walk into the bathroom.
Forty minutes later, I stroll out of my hotel room and head to his suite, clad in a red dress with a deep plunging neckline, and matching heels.
I knock once.
“Come in,” he says with his business voice.
I walk in.
The doors to the terrace are open, the wind playing with the curtains.
Phone glued to his ear, he fastens his cufflinks, evading my eyes. Panic seeps into my blood.
I halt next to the door and wait for him. Furtively, I study him.
He has an elegance I’ve rarely seen in men. The clothing falls smoothly on him. The crisp, white shirt outlines his hard torso, muscular arms and flat stomach, the brightness of the fabric setting off his smooth, clean shaven face and sparkling eyes. His pants fit him in a way that makes me clench my thighs.
The man is hot, but that’s not it. You can easily get caught in him, and he can play with you and burn you down with as little as a smile.
He gives me a side glance and slides his gaze down on me. On cue, my knees turn weak. Discreetly, I lean against the wall. As I stand here, observing him, it finally dawns on me what kind of shit I got myself into.
He is the man I work for. The man who hopefully will give me a permanent job once we go back.
He’s also the man who’s gonna fuck me a few more times. And I can’t say no to him. I don’t want to. I want him as much as he wants me, and there’s no way I can say no to him.
Or myself.
He’s not my boyfriend. And he’s not my lover. He is the man I’m hopelessly attracted to. The man who knows me inside out. The man who plays with me and fucks with me and when it’s all said and done, he’d probably crush everything that’s good inside me.
He owns my heart. Whether he knows it or not. Whether he wants it or not. And that alone tells me in how much trouble I am.
“Ready?”
His voice thunders across the room bringing reality back into focus. He’s no longer on his phone, and he finished working on his cufflinks.
His gaze stays on me as he shrugs his jacket on. That’s all I need to feel my legs shaking again. This is what he does best. And he does it every single time I slip away from him or falter or question something related to him.
He picks me up and brings me back to him.
With a gaze, a smile, or a smoldering look. Sometimes by trashing my suitors. He doesn’t care what are the means through which he accomplishes what he wants.
The moment he senses I’m crumbling inside he throws me a lifeline, something––anything, a bone to chew on or a shred of hope to cling to.
And yet, he never cares to stay with me, or fully be with me. Because he never wants to give me much. That’s why he always pulls back.
And then, there’s something else.
Once in a while, I sense him losing focus. Perhaps his interest.
Who knows? I wish I knew.
“Red suits you well,” he says deadpan.
I flick an eyebrow up, no smile.
“You too,” I say, pointing with my chin in his direction. “Not in red. Generally speaking,” I say, cold.
He smiles.
“You okay?”
As if he cares.
“Yes. You?” I ask, and he gives me a wolfish laughter that vibrates through my bones.
He might be the end of me.
“Let
’s go,” he says, his eyes narrowing with an amused smile.
I may not know much about this man, but one thing is sure. For whatever reason, he is set to torment me.
Gallantly, he motions me to the exit door. Reluctantly, I walk ahead of him. I know he set his eyes on me. I feel their heat rolling down my back and butt.
“How late are we staying?” I ask, spinning around fast.
I catch him. He doesn’t flinch.
Slowly, he lifts his gaze from below my waist.
“How long it takes, Ms. Fox. You have other plans?” he asks, in a mood to fuck with me.
“Am I allowed to?” I ask, playing his game.
“Sure. You can do whatever you want Ms. Fox. I will not impose on your freedom,” he says, serious this time, and instantly, I regret my question.
I slip into the elevator and keep my mouth shut all the way down to the first floor.
We walk across the lobby, quite a few people turning heads as we walk by. Ready, his car is parked in front of the hotel. He motions me to his Ferrari.
Silently, I climb in.
I manage to lock my seatbelt on my own this time.
He gives me a side glance as he shoves the key into the ignition.
“Are you pouting for some reason?”
“No, I’m not,” I say sternly. “What do you need me for tonight?”
Silence meets my words. I have no other choice but glance at him.
He finishes giving me a slow once over and briefly locks my eyes before he looks away as he steers left.
“Yes?” I insist.
“You worked for me long enough. I’m sure you can figure it out on your own,” he says dryly, no humor in his voice.
This goes from bad to worse.
Sullen, I turn my gaze away from him and glance out the window. The car swishes down the street, the streetlights flying by. I can’t believe that less than twenty-four hours ago, he was holding me in his arms and made love to me as if he cared.
A half hour later, we pull in front of an elegant venue, a valet greeting us promptly as we slip out of his ride. Luxurious cars and limos slowly crawl to the front. People step out of the cars, strolling to the entrance.
We don’t even take a few steps on the stairs, and he’s already approached by two men who recognize him.
We have to stop.