by Julia Sykes
He obliged me, thrusting his fingers into my wet sheath in one brutal motion. I cried out at the intrusion, pleasure flooding my system in response to the rough treatment.
“You want it hard? You want me to fuck this tight pussy?”
“Yes, Sir,” I panted. “Yes!” I shrieked my affirmation as his fingertips pressed down on my g-spot, stimulating deep inside me.
I came apart under his hands, my entire body shuddering with the force of my orgasm. “Thank you, thank you.” I released my gratitude in a mindless litany as bliss sang through my veins, sending me flying high.
My inner walls were still spasming with the aftermath of my pleasure when he abruptly withdrew from me. He gripped my hips and shifted my body, moving me easily with his vastly superior strength.
He positioned me so I bent over the edge of the bed, resting the weight of my torso on my elbows. I spread my legs wide, offering my pussy to him.
My eyes were closed in residual ecstasy, but I heard him undressing behind me. I heard the condom wrapper tear, and seconds later, his cock pressed against my entrance.
I gasped in shock when his hand fisted in my hair. He didn’t pull, but he kept me anchored in place as he slowly penetrated me. I tried to push back against him and increase his pace, but his free hand slapped my thigh in reprimand.
I groaned and stilled, bliss washing through me as I sank further into submission. He thoroughly controlled my body, my pleasure.
He withdrew at a pace that made me ache. My core throbbed to the point of discomfort, my body primed and desperate for more. I’d become a purely sexual being, caught up in a torrent of lust. My mind receded to its most primal state, and my entire being was completely consumed by need.
“Please,” I whimpered.
He spanked me, but not in rebuke. He was urging me on. “Again,” he commanded gruffly. “Beg me for pleasure. Beg me to make you come.”
“Please, Sir. Please, let me come.” My sex squeezed him in response to his deviant demand. I was so close to the edge, but his will kept me barely tethered to sanity. I wanted to please him. I wouldn’t come without permission. Gritting my teeth, I resisted the pleasure that tempted and tormented me.
He began to drive into me, hard and fast. “Hold on,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Not yet. Wait for me.”
His hand left my hair so his fingers could sink into my hips. He pulled my body back, guiding me to fuck him in time with his harsh thrusts.
“Now,” he growled, increasing his pace.
I felt his cock pulse inside me, his orgasm granting me permission to succumb to my own. The knowledge that I’d brought him pleasure sent me rocketing over the edge, and I screamed as I came. He drove in deep one last time, holding himself inside me as he finished. My inner muscles fluttered helplessly around him, ecstasy pulsing through me.
My arms shook, and my muscles turned to jelly. I collapsed onto the mattress, breathing hard. His arms closed around me, lifting me and repositioning my body so I laid on the bed, a pillow cushioning my head. He settled in beside me, pulling me close to his chest.
We lay there for a long time, holding one another. He stroked my back, and I lightly scratched his in the way I’d discovered he liked.
“I have to go,” he finally murmured.
I propped up on one elbow, trying and failing to smother a small frown. “Can I at least get your number? We could text.”
He trailed his fingers through my hair, his touch gentle and apologetic. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry. But I’ll see you when I can.”
My frown deepened. “That’s not fair. I can’t just live my life waiting for you to show up.”
His eyes tightened. “I don’t expect you to wait for me. But I’ll come back for you. I’ll fight for you, if I have to.”
“I don’t want you to fight for me. I just want you to stay.” I let out a shuddering sigh, steeling myself. “But I know you can’t.”
“I’m sorry. I really do have to go now. I’ve already stayed too long.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat and nodded. He got dressed, but I stayed tucked under the covers, lingering in the warmth of his body heat that had been trapped beneath the duvet.
He brushed a kiss across my forehead and turned from me.
I took a breath as he walked away, reminding myself that he’d promised to return.
Chapter 10
Giddy excitement raced through me when the buzzer to my apartment punctuated the silence. I set down my e-reader and rushed to the keypad. The camera outside showed what I’d hardly dared to hope: Scott, waiting to come in and see me.
It had only been five days since he’d last visited. Since he’d spanked me and fucked me hard enough that I was sore the next day, a sweet reminder of our time together.
I immediately buzzed him in, flinging open the door before he even stepped across the building’s threshold. I beamed at him as he strode down the hall, closing the distance between us. He returned my smile. How did I keep forgetting how heart-melting his perfect grin was? And how panty-melting.
My sex grew wet with desire just at the sight of him. When he finally reached me, he caught me up in a tight embrace and captured my lips with his.
“Hi,” I breathed against his mouth when he finally released me.
One corner of his lips tugged up in a cocky, lopsided smile. “Hi, yourself. Are you going to invite me in?” He leaned closer, so he could whisper in my ear. “Or am I going to have to fuck you in the hallway?”
I shivered and took a reluctant step back, allowing him to enter my apartment. “I’m not an exhibitionist.” My banter was ruined by the way my voice shook. My emotions were raw, almost manic. I was flying high, and I never wanted to come back down. I loved how I felt when I was in Scott’s presence: safe, revered, content.
“Neither am I,” he rumbled, his eyes glinting. “I want you all to myself.”
A delighted laugh bubbled from my throat. “You’re being silly.” I tried to puncture the sexual tension before I combusted.
His arm wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me close so I could feel his erection pressing against my belly.
“Does this feel silly to you?”
My breath caught, my levity instantly heating to lust. “No.” I licked my lips, feeling both vulnerable and powerful at the same time. The dichotomy was intoxicating. “I’ve missed you.”
He gave me a sly smile. “You missed me? Or my cock?”
“Both,” I said, my tone low and sultry.
“Good,” he half-growled. “Because I missed you. And your pussy. I need a taste.”
I bit back a wanton moan. I hadn’t liked oral in the past, but I’d become addicted to the decadent sensation of his mouth on me.
Still, guilt nipped at me. “You know I can’t reciprocate,” I said softly. “I just can’t.”
He sobered slightly, pressing a kiss against my forehead. “You don’t have to reciprocate. And you don’t have to talk to me about why, unless you want to.”
I shook my head. “I’d rather not.”
I didn’t want to ruin our time together by unpacking my baggage on him. Tucking my damage in a far corner of my mind, I leaned into him, cupping his nape so I could pull him closer.
“Fuck me, Sir,” I whispered.
His features tightened with hunger. “Good girls say please.”
“Please.”
He picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, landing a sharp slap on my thigh. “Too late. I’m going to eat your pussy until you’re begging me to drive my cock into you. I’m not going to let you come until you really mean it when you say please.”
I squirmed in his hold, my body heating in response to his wicked promise.
He kept that promise. By the time he finished with me, I was trembling and boneless. He rolled off me and pulled me against his chest, cuddling me. I closed my eyes and drifted in my post-orgasmic haze as he gently stroked my back in the way I loved.
Aft
er a while, I stirred with a contented sigh. I started to trace little circular patterns on his chest, indulging in the warmth of his body against mine.
“When will I see you again?” I asked, trying not to sound too desperate. “I leave for Italy three weeks from today. I’m going to Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast.”
My heart twisted as I spoke. I was prodding him for information. Would I see him again, once I left England? Would he be able to visit me if I wasn’t a short train ride away? So far, he’d only been able to spend a few hours with me. International travel might not be possible.
“I’m not sure,” he replied, his tone ambiguous. I couldn’t read any emotion in his expression. “I can’t make any promises.”
“But you’ll come back, right?”
He shifted, moving me off him so he could get to his feet. “I should go.”
“What? So soon?” I knew I sounded needy, but I couldn’t help myself.
I frowned at him and folded my arms over my chest, a protective gesture as well as an annoyed one. “So that’s it?” I demanded. “You’re just going to fuck me and leave?”
He started pulling on his clothes.
“Talk to me.”
He met my eye, but his face was still impassive. “What do you want to talk about?”
I threw up my hands, exasperated. “I don’t know. Tell me something about yourself. Anything. Don’t go like this, without sharing anything with me. I’ve shared so much with you, and I don’t know anything about you, other than the fact that we have amazing sex.”
His features hardened to stone. “You know I can’t share anything like that with you.”
I sat up, my fists balling at my sides. “I don’t know that. And I think it’s bullshit. I’m not going to look you up or dig into your past. I’m not going to jeopardize your job if you share with me. It’s okay to be vulnerable around me.” I took a breath, trying to calm my roiling emotions. “You have been vulnerable with me,” I said, more quietly.
His jaw ticked, the motion almost imperceptible. He took a step back and finished buttoning his shirt.
“Please.” I resorted to begging, hoping that would sway him. “Trust me.”
“I do,” he said in a monotone.
“Then why won’t you talk to me? Really talk to me. I’ve placed my trust in you, and you’re not reciprocating. Tell me something real. Drop the stoicism and be real with me. Be vulnerable. I won’t judge you.”
This time, he flinched at the word vulnerable. He straightened to his full height, so he towered over me. “You’re asking for something I can’t give you. I have to go now.”
My chest tightened. He was going to walk away. He was shutting me out, because I’d pushed him too hard.
But what I’d said was true: it was bullshit that he wasn’t letting me into his life. It meant that he didn’t see a future with me.
I hadn’t allowed myself to really contemplate a future with him, but knowing he’d already closed the door on the possibility made my heart ache.
In that moment, I knew he wasn’t coming back for me. He might return to fuck me a few more times, but he wouldn’t come for me. Not in the way that really mattered.
“Goodbye, Addison.” With the clipped farewell, he walked out of my apartment, leaving me cold on the bed.
I couldn’t help fearing that I detected a note of finality in the words.
Chapter 11
Three weeks. Three long, painful weeks, and I hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from Scott. While I’d been in his presence, I’d indulged in merciful hours of reprieve from the crushing weight of my depression.
The last twenty-one days had gone by at a glacial pace. I’d carefully scheduled meetups with different friends every night, so I could pretend I wasn’t lonely.
Now that I was leaving England, I was faced with reality again: I was alone.
In a few minutes, the plane would touch down in Naples, and then, I’d catch the train to Sorrento by myself. I should have been excited, but the weight of regret settled in my gut.
With each mile I traveled, I was getting farther away from Scott.
And when I left Italy in a week, I’d be returning to Chicago. There would be an ocean between us, and he wouldn’t be able to catch a train to see me for a few blissful hours, like he’d done when I was in York.
He’d promised he’d come back for me, but now I knew that had been a lie. I’d never see him again.
I blinked against the sting at the corners of my eyes and told myself I wasn’t desperately lonely. I’d left my friends behind in England, but I’d meet plenty of people in Sorrento. Plenty of strangers.
My ears popped as the plane began its descent, and I stared out the window. The stunning view did little to cheer me. It was as though I was watching the landscape grow closer in a movie. I was detached from the beauty and awe of the experience; like this wasn’t really my life.
I didn’t want this to be my life. I didn’t want to be traveling alone to yet another rented apartment.
I don’t have a home, either. Scott’s earnest admission tormented me. He’d cut straight to my core with those words. We’d bonded over our shared pain, finding a bittersweet connection that resonated in our souls.
Now, I was left only with the pain, robbed of the comfort of his strong arms around me.
The plane touched down, and I shuffled toward the exit. Moving on auto-pilot, I made my way through the airport and customs. The excitement I used to feel at getting a fresh stamp on my passport was absent. It was just another mark to prove that I had no roots, no home.
I plastered on a smile, telling myself that most people would be elated to visit Italy.
That didn’t affect my dark mood. Berating myself for my self-pity only made my depression that much worse. I was self-centered, selfish. I should be grateful for this opportunity, but I was squandering it.
I didn’t deserve this vacation, but here I was: visiting one of the most romantic cities in the world without a partner by my side.
The customs officer barely glanced at me before stamping my passport and waving his hand toward baggage claim. My feet carried me in that direction, but I was still detached, my reality dulled.
“Addison.”
His voice rumbled through me, and I stiffened. My fantasies must be clouding my mind, because there was no way he was here. He’d said goodbye and hadn’t come back. He’d shut me out and walked away.
His fingers brushed my bare arm, and my fine hairs immediately stood on end, his touch sparking across my skin like an electric shock.
“Hey,” he said quietly, trying to call my attention to him.
Emotion surged as the world sharpened around me, everything jumping into painful relief.
Lust. Longing. Anger.
I rounded on him. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, even as tears formed in my eyes.
His brows drew together, as though he was puzzled by my ire. “I came to see you.”
A half-mad laugh clawed its way up my throat. “You came here. To Italy.”
He nodded, his eyes watching me carefully. His keen gaze took in the tears that spilled down my cheeks. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right.” I couldn’t stop myself from railing at him. He’d stripped me raw. And then, he’d abandoned me. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and now, you think you can just show up here?”
His eyes tightened. “I came as soon as I could.”
“Right. You couldn’t come sooner because of your job. Because of your secrets.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I can’t handle this.”
My heart couldn’t handle any more. It had been shredded beyond repair long before I’d met Scott. Somehow, he’d worked his way into the tattered gaps and ripped them farther apart.
“You left me.” The accusation hitched in my throat. “You’ll always leave.”
He reached for me, wrapping his arms around me so I was trapped in his embrace.
I sho
ved at his chest, but I rested my cheek against his shoulder. My mind told me to push him away, but my soul told me to cling to him. The intimacy between us was too sweet to resist.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked on a strained whisper.
His hands stroked up and down my back. “Because I’m a selfish bastard. Because I can’t stop thinking about you. The way you taste; the way you fit in my arms; the way you understand me like no one else does.”
His fingers curled beneath my chin, and he tipped my head back so I was caught in his intense aquamarine stare. “I can’t stay away from you, Addison.”
“Then don’t,” I begged.
He answered me with a kiss, communicating his need with his hungry mouth on mine. His lips branded me, his tongue stroked in to possess me. My hands shifted from his chest to curve into his shoulders, no longer pretending I wanted to push him away. I wanted to be right here: in his arms.
He kissed me until my fingers tingled and my knees went weak, showing me no mercy.
The loud buzz of the baggage carousel finally tore us apart, and I gasped for air as I sagged against him.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get to Sorrento. I need to get you somewhere more private.”
I shivered at the implication. We’d been making a scene, but I wasn’t remotely embarrassed. I didn’t care what these people thought. All I cared about was being nestled against his hard body.
Now that I was back in his arms, my anger melted. Being with him felt too good, and I fell back into my default mode when I was with him: ignoring my uglier emotions and avoiding thinking about the future. About the emotional consequences I’d face when he inevitably left again.
He retrieved our bags and ushered me outside to the taxi stand. We caught a ride to the train station and bought our tickets for the first train to Sorrento.
Scott barely kept his hands off me during the entire process. His fingers trailed along my back, my nape, my thighs. I didn’t want him to stop touching me. I couldn’t bear to break our contact, either.