Beauty in Lingerie

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Beauty in Lingerie Page 16

by Penelope Sky


  Seeing him touch himself immediately turned me on.

  A drop formed on the crown of his cock, and he smeared it away with his thumb. “Panties off. Leave the lingerie on.”

  I peeled off my black thong and left it on the ground. I knew exactly what he wanted based on the way he was sitting. He wanted me to ride his cock just as I did before. He wanted to sit back and watch me enjoy him, watch me bob up and down on his length.

  I straddled his hips and pointed his length at my entrance. I slowly slid down, sheathing his cock until I was sitting on his balls. His entire length was inside me, and I had to take a moment to get used to the immense stretching.

  Conway gripped my ass and stared at my reflection in the mirror, seeing my back as I sat on his impressive dick. “This pussy…is incredible.” He took a deep breath as he gripped my cheeks even harder. “You’re always so wet for me.”

  I was always wet anytime I was in the same room as him. It couldn’t be helped. My mind and body were at war with each other. My mind knew it was wrong, but my body couldn’t care less. My pussy wanted this big cock every day, wanted to feel the stretching it finally had gotten used to. I was addicted to how good it made me feel.

  “Fuck me, Muse.” He dragged my hips upward then back down again, making me ride his cock.

  I smeared my wetness all over his length. Up and down I moved, my clit rubbing against him at the same time. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I grinded, feeling the goodness between my legs immediately. Being on top was my favorite position because I could fuck him as hard or as slow as I wanted.

  A moan emerged from deep in his throat.

  I rode him harder, my face pressed to his as my thighs worked to take him over and over. I felt the burn between my legs as soon as the climax approached on the horizon. It was coming, starting in my stomach before it migrated downward. I rode him harder and harder, forgetting about how much I despised him and focusing on how amazing his dick felt. So thick and long, it hit me perfectly. I moved harder, stimulating my clit until my body couldn’t take it anymore. I came with a groan, my eyes locked on to his as another wave of arousal surrounded his dick.

  He dug his fingertips into my ass, and that same focused look came over his face. His features tinted red, and he was about to explode. He leaned back and held on to my hips as I did all the work. He sat back and enjoyed it, his jaw tightening as the pleasure drowned him. “Fuck…” He yanked me down so he could come with his entire length inside me. He pressed his face into my neck as his arms wrapped around me. He breathed into me then pressed a kiss against my neck.

  I never wanted to be the recipient of his kiss again. Anytime I thought of his mouth, I thought of the lipstick the women left all over the collar of his shirt. I thought of the kisses they left on his earlobe and chest.

  I wanted nothing to do with that.

  Before he was fully soft, I got off him. I removed the lingerie and set it on the table. He would call Nicole, and she would pick it up so the right amount of fabric could be ordered for production. My clothes were on the table where I left them, so I quickly put them back on. I could just head down to the stables and get to work, but now I wanted to wash the area between my legs and get rid of his come.

  Conway remained on the couch, beautifully naked with a sleepy expression in his eyes. “No showering.”

  I tied my shirt together at my waist. “Excuse me?”

  “No showering,” he repeated. “And if you do it anyway, I’ll turn off your water.”

  I knew exactly what he meant. He knew I was trying to wash him off me because I despised him. Of course, it was a blow to his ego, and he couldn’t swallow the attack on his pride.

  “You’re going to work outside all day with my come inside you. That’s my fantasy—and you will fulfill it.”

  8

  Conway

  I’d been in a bad mood lately.

  Every time I sat down to make a new sketch, nothing left my fingertips and appeared on the page.

  I’d flat-lined.

  The last pieces I made were exceptional. My ideas were flowing on to the page at an exponential rate. I was producing more work than ever before in a fraction of the time it normally took me.

  I’d never felt so inspired.

  But now, I’d crashed into a brick wall. My thoughts were muddled, and I couldn’t picture anything. I couldn’t even decide what kind of fabric would suit the new line. All I had were a few ideas I made weeks ago, but my creativity had dried up like a grape in the sun.

  Fuck.

  I was in the studio in Milan when Nicole walked inside. “Conway, the distributors are manufacturing The Queen on time. It should be ready to hit stores before you release your next line. If we want to keep on schedule, I need the next three pieces for the show.”

  What set me apart from other designers was my productivity. I always had something new for people to look forward to. Other designers reinvented the same idea over and over. They milked their products until the last drop fell. But that wasn’t me. Creating something new was the best marketing strategy that could be implemented.

  “Do you have them?”

  “Just a few sketches.”

  Nicole hid her surprise, but she knew it was out of character for me to be unprepared. “Can I see?”

  I opened my notebook to the first page.

  She looked down at it, studying it through her thick glasses. She tilted it slightly, as if she were trying to study it at a better angle. Then she turned the page and examined the next drawing.

  Her silence already told me everything.

  She turned the page again and surveyed the last one.

  I didn’t care about anyone’s opinion but my own. But right now, I knew I’d lost my touch.

  She shut the book without saying anything. “If you need more time, we can postpone the next show. The date hasn’t been made public, so no one would know otherwise.”

  She didn’t like my sketches either. “Give me a few more days.”

  “The first two pieces are wonderful,” she said. “I know those will get a lot of attention.”

  “Yeah…”

  Nicole didn’t linger much longer. She knew when she wasn’t welcome. That was what I liked about her so much. She wasn’t chatty, and she wasn’t uncomfortable with my silence. “Let me know if you need anything.” She walked out and left me alone with my thoughts.

  My thoughts of self-loathing.

  I knew this had something to do with Muse.

  She’d stopped kissing me, and the second that connection was broken, it seemed like I’d lost her. She despised me because of the way I hurt her. She probably thought I was screwing some other woman right at that moment.

  But I wasn’t.

  I didn’t even want to.

  Should I just tell her that? Come clean? Or would that lead me down a worse path?

  Never in my life had I been with just a single woman. I vowed I never would be. My life was too good, my work was too important.

  But now my work was suffering.

  It wasn’t because Muse stopped being my fantasy. It wasn’t because the sex had turned stale. It was because I could feel her disgust for me. Her disappointment weighed me down like a ton of bricks. She didn’t look at me the same way, with admiration and respect. Now she preferred to be on her hands and knees when we screwed so she wouldn’t have to look at me.

  And she wouldn’t kiss me.

  Not because she wouldn’t allow it. She simply didn’t want to.

  Now she was just using me for sex, using me for casual passion. It was exactly what I wanted in the beginning.

  But so much had changed.

  Regardless of the decision I made, I lost. I would either make an exception for this woman and open a door to a path I’d never trod, or I would continue to let my work suffer. My fantasies and desires had changed. It went from casual passion with multiple women to the worship of one single queen.

  My queen.

&nbs
p; It was because of her that I’d released my best work. It was because of her that my career soared to new heights.

  But the second she knew what she meant to me, the relationship would change. She would have power over me—a lot of power. Would she abuse it? Or would she accept that power responsibly?

  I had no idea.

  But it didn’t seem like I had a choice anymore.

  * * *

  When I returned home, I showered and got ready for dinner. Muse didn’t eat with me anymore because she preferred my company only for sex. Unless we were fucking, she wanted nothing to do with me.

  It stung.

  It used to be exactly what I wanted, but now that hollowness suffocated me.

  I went to her door and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  I stepped inside and spotted her in the living room. She was sitting on the couch in front of the TV with a book open in her lap. She’d showered after working outside all day, and now she was in a navy blue dress with her hair pulled over one shoulder. She didn’t wear makeup, so she’d obviously expected to have dinner alone that night—again.

  She looked up from her book, a hint of hatred in her gaze. “Yes?”

  I hated that look. I hated it more than anything. We hadn’t met under the best terms, and I’d done other terrible things to her that had never received that kind of coldness. I took her virginity, controlled every aspect of her life, and used her for my own gain. But none of that crossed a line. Only when she thought I slept with someone else did it truly affect her. It pushed her away because it hurt her down to her core.

  Which meant she cared about me.

  And the fact that I couldn’t fuck anyone else meant I cared about her.

  How the hell did this happen?

  When I didn’t answer, she repeated herself. “Yes?”

  I sat on the couch beside her and pulled the book out of her hands. I shut it and tossed it on the table. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  “No, thank you.” She crossed her legs and turned her gaze to the TV.

  I grabbed the remote and turned it off.

  She directed her irritated gaze on me. “How about we fuck, and you just leave me alone?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the insult sink all the way into my stomach. Her tone was so cold, it felt like she stabbed me with an icicle. She ripped my heart into a million pieces. Until that moment, I didn’t know I had a heart. I hated the way she hated me. I despised myself for hurting her so much. I should have just been honest instead of letting her pain fester into contempt.

  Or I shouldn’t have allowed myself to care about her to begin with.

  “You hate me that much, huh?” I whispered.

  She didn’t answer.

  “There’s something I need to tell you. I guess I’ll say it now since you won’t have dinner with me…”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and stared straight ahead, refusing to look at me.

  I sat back against the couch and watched her, seeing the seemingly invisible walls erected around her. I’d hurt a woman who’d already been hurt enough. Instead of hiding away my loyalty and commitment, I should have been real. “I haven’t been with another woman since the day we met.”

  She slowly turned her head my way, her eyes still guarded.

  “The other night, I met Carter at my lingerie club. We talked about business. He had a few women with him. He pressed one on to me, but I wasn’t interested. Then he accused me of actually caring about you…so I tried to prove him wrong. I let the woman sit on my lap and kiss me. But when it came down to taking her home, I couldn’t do it. And when I say I couldn’t, I mean, I couldn’t force myself to do something I didn’t want to do. This woman was gorgeous, and I didn’t feel anything. I was never hard or even attracted to her. Carter gave me shit about it, and then I drove home. All I wanted to do was come back here and be with you.”

  Her gaze didn’t change because her guard was still up.

  “I lied because I didn’t want you to know how I felt. I didn’t want you to know we were monogamous. I didn’t want you to think I actually cared about you…that you were enough to satisfy me. Honestly, I’ve never been with just a single woman before. This is my first time. This is the first time I’ve ever wanted to bed the same woman over and over again…and never get tired of it. I don’t want meaningless, passionate sex. I don’t want a different woman every night. I just want you…and that fucking terrifies me.”

  Her breathing escalated, her small breaths growing deeper and louder. Her gaze changed, slowly softening as the words sunk in.

  “I’d rather you think I’m a promiscuous ass than let you believe you mean something to me. And I would have kept up that lie if it weren’t affecting my work so much. I haven’t made a decent sketch in weeks. I talked to Nicole this afternoon, and she suggested we push back the next show because my work hasn’t been up to my usual standard. My world is falling apart, and it’s all because of you. So now I’m telling you the truth…so you can stop hating me. I hate seeing that disdain in your gaze. I hate the way you fuck me now…like it doesn’t mean anything. I want it to be what it was before.”

  Her arms tightened across her chest, but the look she gave me turned gentler. The hatred faded away, and she gave me a new look entirely. “The only reason you’re telling me this is because it’s affecting your work?”

  I nodded. “I guess.”

  “How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”

  I shrugged. “I guess you don’t. But I’m not. I’m far more embarrassed telling you this than sleeping with someone else…so that doesn’t add up.”

  She looked forward again.

  “Muse?” I whispered.

  “What does this mean?” she whispered back. “What do you want?”

  “I want what we had before…but now I’m telling you I’m committed to you. I won’t be with anyone else. Just you.”

  “Because you care about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What else does it entail?”

  I knew what she was really asking. “I’m not looking for romance or love. I’m not really looking for anything. All I know is, I only want to be with you. It doesn’t mean I’m your boyfriend or I’ll be your husband someday. It just means…that it’s only the two of us. There’s no one else but you and me. I don’t want you to expect anything more because it won’t come. But I’ll be your friend, your partner, and I’ll always be faithful to you. And of course, I’ll be honest.”

  “You weren’t honest before.”

  “I know, but I will be now.”

  She pulled her knees to her chest.

  I was hoping for a stronger reaction than this. “I’ll give you everything you want. You have my respect, my friendship, and my fidelity.”

  She was still quiet.

  “What is it, Muse?”

  “It’s just taking me a second to process this.”

  “What is there to process?”

  “I was so hurt when I thought you were with someone else…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s such a relief to know that you weren’t…and it’s taking me a second to process that feeling.”

  Somehow, that made me feel even worse. I scooted closer to her on the couch and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. I pulled her into me and looked down into her face, seeing her thick eyelashes curl toward the ceiling. “Why does it hurt you so much?” She enjoyed my company and my body, but I didn’t suspect she loved me. After what I did to her, how could she?

  “I don’t know. I guess it made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you. You tell me how amazing I am, but then you look for satisfaction between another woman’s legs…and then I was afraid you would give me a disease or something.”

  I rested my head against hers. “And that’s all.”

  She paused for a long time. “You say you’re jealous because you don’t want to share me with the world…” Her hand moved to mine. “And I guess I’m jealous too.
I don’t want to share you with anyone.”

  I interlocked my fingers with hers. Hearing her admit she was jealous gave me a sense of power. It made me feel like we were equal, like we cared about each other in the same way. I was jealous any time a man looked at her, and that was the reason I hid her away from the world. She felt the same way…and that gave us a new connection.

  A connection to start over.

  “Can I kiss you again?”

  She tilted her head up to look at me. “You want to kiss me?”

  I stared at her lips, missing them since the moment they’d been taken away. I’d taken her kiss for granted, not understanding how much I needed it before it was yanked away. “Yes.”

  Finally, she smiled. Her eyes lit up the way they used to, and she softened into my side. “Then kiss me.”

  * * *

  Muse was on my bed, propped up on her elbows with her beautiful tits looking perky and delicious. Her stomach was flat and toned from working outside all the time, and her long legs stretched to the end of the bed.

  I grabbed her thong with both hands and slowly pulled it down her legs, staring at her nub once it was revealed. Her pussy had never looked so beautiful. I could see the gleam from her slit, the arousal that started before I even touched her.

  I wrapped her thong around my dick, letting the soft, warm fabric stimulate me more.

  She opened her legs wide, beckoning to me.

  If I weren’t so hard up, I’d fall to my knees and devour her pussy. Right now, I wanted to devour her lips with mine. I wanted to push my dick inside her, to feel that moisture she produced all on her own.

  I crawled up the bed and moved between her legs. I locked my arms behind her knees and guided her back until she was flat against the bed. Her nipples were hard, and her chest was flushed pink. I held myself on top of her and rubbed my cock between her folds. She was so wet, I could already feel it.

  Her hands started at my arms, feeling my biceps and shoulders. Then she explored my chest, feeling my pectoral muscles and my chiseled abdomen. She slightly arched her back and moved, rubbing against my hard dick with her pussy.

 

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