by Gage Grayson
Erik stifles the beginning of a groan.
“You really are indecent, doing that in public, Miss Clark.”
I grin devilishly as I pull apart from Erik, but only slightly.
I cock my head to one side in question.
“So what will it be? A summer fling where two people happily fuck each other senseless before returning to their busy, work-centric lives…or allow this sexual tension to drive us both insane while we work on your property deals?”
Erik doesn’t reply—not with words anyway. Before I can say another word, his lips crush mine, and he runs a hand through my hair to pull me in closer.
I grind up against him, feeling the entire length of his cock against the fabric of my dress, begging to be let loose.
I’m so fucking turned on I swear I could take all twelve inches of him with no preparation whatsoever.
Then Erik breaks away from the kiss, and we both laugh as we remember that we’re still in Dakota’s, and people are watching.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Erik says.
I don’t need to hear that twice. We’re out the door and in a cab in under a minute.
Erik gives the driver the address for the beach house he’s currently renting, then he pulls me in for another blistering kiss.
It’s the longest five-minute cab ride of my entire life.
And, also, the fucking hottest.
5
Erik
It feels as if it has taken a fucking age to get back to the beach house I’m renting, when in reality it only takes under five minutes. I have to mentally stop myself from literally throwing the cab fare at the driver, before wrenching the door open and pulling Rose out of the car behind me.
I don’t even remember where I put my keys, but Rose’s hungrily exploring hands soon locate them in one of my tuxedo’s inner pockets.
I can’t help but think that keys were not made for people desperately trying to open a door, because it takes far too long for me to insert the key into the lock and open the door.
“Your aim sure as hell has gotta be better than that in bed,” Rose says, her voice silky and rough all at the same time, somehow.
I pick her up using one arm as I close the door behind us, causing her to gasp in surprise.
“Who the hell says we’re making it to the bed?”
Rose barely has time to raise a reactionary eyebrow before I slam her against the nearest wall, my lips on hers as my hand roves up underneath her dress and past her underwear. When my fingers begin circling her clit, Rose lets out quite potentially the sexiest noise I’ve ever heard.
“Don’t you dare fucking tease me,” she complains as I slowly massage the area, deliberately avoiding the center of the nerve endings there.
I let out a low chuckle.
“Where’s the fun in going all-out from the start?”
Rose gives me a dead-pan, challenging stare before flicking her gaze down in the general direction of my aching, rock-hard cock.
“Something tells me you’re not likely to last long…so how about we get that load out of you and take our time with the rest of the night?”
“You make a compelling argument, Rose Clark.”
And, truly, she does. I feel as if I’m about to burst.
We don’t even undress. I take off my belt and unzip my pants, lowering my underwear just enough to release the entire length of my cock. Shifting Rose up against the wall slightly, I slide into her soaking pussy as if it were nothing.
I thrust into Rose as she cries out in shock.
“I’m not even all in,” I let out, my voice gravelly and low, “you sure you can handle me?”
“If I said no, you sure you could handle leaving things as they are and calling it a night?”
We both laugh. Rose kisses me hungrily as I carry her over to the enormous corner sofa in the main lounge of the beach house.
I throw her down unceremoniously onto a pile of cushions, barely giving her an opportunity to lie down properly before I’m on top of her and back inside her.
Rose locks eyes with me.
“Do your worst, Storm.”
“That sounds incredibly corny, or like a line from a porno.”
She wrinkles her nose as she laughs and brings my lips down to meet hers.
“That was the point, Mr. Billionaire. Now, fuck me.”
I don’t need to hear that said twice in Rose’s incredibly sexy, commanding voice. With ease, I sling her arms above her head, holding her wrists in one of my hands. I pull my cock out slowly, keeping my eyes on Rose as I pause for half a second before plunging back into her, right up to the hilt.
She screams.
I’m momentarily alarmed, worried I may have actually hurt her, but Rose proceeds to grip her fingers into my shoulder blades, pushing me against her as if she’s willing me to go even deeper.
I build up a rhythm, testing Rose’s limits, and finding the delicate edge between pleasure and pain. It’s only in holding down her wrists that I realize how small Rose’s frame is—how fragile her bones are.
And yet Rose’s taking all of me in—hungrily, desperately, urging me to go faster. It won’t do me any good to underestimate her.
I kiss her, hard, biting her upper lip as I pull away.
“Hope you’re ready, Clark.”
“I’ve been ready since you picked me up for that death trap of a wedding reception hours ago.”
I allow a chuckle to escape my lips before I thrust into Rose once more, this time more fervently. Every time I pull my cock out, I remove it all the way—all the better to slam it back in to the hilt.
Rose gasps and moans and cries beneath me, her back arching her chest against mine.
How I wish we were fucking naked. Although, seeing Rose squirm with her sheer black dress bunched up around her hips and her dripping wet underwear pushed irreverently to the side is pretty damn sexy.
You can be certain I’ll take my time in undressing her and exploring every inch of her body after round one.
I release Rosa’s wrists in order to run a hand through her hair, pulling her head up toward me, using my other hand to support my weight as I plunge again and again into her pussy, watching as her chest heaves faster and faster with every stroke of my ramrod cock inside of her.
Rose’s hands entwine through my hair, too; I can feel them trembling slightly from the force of me slamming into her. She kisses my neck, just barely biting down on it before my lips are back on hers.
I run both my hands up Rose’s thighs, digging my fingers into the soft flesh there as I force her legs up, changing the angle at which I’m fucking her.
The change is immediately noticeable to Rose; her eyes roll back into her head slightly as she lets out a cry.
Oh, god. That noise does it for me. I’m so close to coming I feel like screaming.
“Rose, Rose, god I can’t wait to come inside you,” I groan.
Rose bites my lip in response.
“Please do, Mr. Storm, then the real fun can begin.”
I grin, then thrust back into Rose, again and again and again. My breathing becomes hitched and ragged until I let out a cry of pleasure as a load of hot, sticky fluid explodes out of my cock and into Rose.
I collapse on top of her, momentarily spent. I hear Rose struggle to regain her breath underneath me.
I kiss her, softly, then smile.
“Now you’ve had a taste, do you feel suitably warmed up for the rest of the night, Rose?”
“If your tongue is half as good as your cock down there, then I’d say I am.”
I smirk.
“I’d venture so far as to say it’s better.”
“Fucking playboy. Well, put your money where your mouth is, then.”
Simply hearing that challenge, my cock begins to stir back to life, thinking about making Rose cream and come with my mouth on her clit.
I give her a wicked grin.
“Gladly.”
6
&nbs
p; Rose
“You’re sure as hell not getting the deposit back on this place,” I joke as Erik pulls his cock out of me, spilling his cum on the sofa and its cushions in the process.
He gives me a look of mock outrage as he pushes me further along the couch, grabbing hold of my soaking wet black thong between his teeth and dragging the tiny piece of fabric down and off my legs.
“But the reason the sofa is ruined is because of my letting agent,” Erik complains as he gives my clit a few, curious strokes with his fingers, causing me to gasp. After the fucking we just did, I am so, so close to coming it feels unreal.
I give him a smirk.
“Regardless, since you’re not getting your deposit back anyway, there’s no harm in dirtying the furniture further.”
“I like the way you think, Clark.”
And then, Erik’s head is between my thighs and his tongue is on my clit. I cry out in pleasure.
In all honesty, I’m so turned on right now that Erik could merely be average at oral sex; but, holy fuck, he’s amazing.
Just a few deft strokes of his tongue, and I’m panting and whining for release, bucking my hips against his face.
Erik takes the hint. He increases the pressure of his tongue, then slides two fingers into my pussy.
And that’s all it takes. I come, hard, against his tongue and his fingers, pleasure rolling up me in waves from my clit to my brain, my legs trembling like leaves as my orgasm hits me.
“Ready for round two?” Erik asks teasingly as he removes his head from between my thighs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before kissing me. I can taste my own fluids in his tongue.
“Give me…a minute.”
Erik chuckles softly, then stands up and walks over to the kitchen pouring me the glass of water I desperately need. I throw the water down my throat just as quickly as I was knocking back vodka shots in Dakota’s, which makes Erik smile.
“Were you that thirsty for me, Rose?”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
There’s a pause then, heavy with anticipation for what comes next, I look at Erik, who still looks relatively decent next to me, with my thong removed and my dress bundled around my hips.
“Strip for me, Erik.”
He raises a curious eyebrow.
“Is that a command?”
“Yes. Strip for me by the terrace doors, so the moonlight hits you. Do it slowly.”
“Something tells me I’m fulfilling some weird fetish for you,” Erik says, suspicious, though he walks over to the glass doors overlooking the terrace and the beach front, nonetheless.
I cluck my tongue as I roll onto my front on the sofa, all the better to watch him.
“It’s not that weird to wanna watch an Adonis strip out of an expensive tux.”
“An Adonis, you say? That’ll go straight to my head.”
“Or your dick,” I murmur in amusement as I notice it growing harder and harder as we speak.
Erik laughs, then proceeds to take off his jacket, dutifully slowly.
It’s intoxicating, watching Erik undress; his bow-tie is next, though he leaves it loose around his neck as he undoes the top two buttons of his shirt before undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. He slides out of it, placing it neatly on top of his discarded jacket on a nearby chair.
Then he undoes the rest of the buttons of his shirt inexorably slowly, one by one by one. It occurs to me, then, that Erik probably should’ve started with his shoes.
When I walk over to join him, he looks confused.
“What, not sexy enough for you?”
“Plenty sexy. But I don’t want you to ruin it with an awkward, nearly-naked shoe removal. I’ll remove them for you.”
Erik grins as I kneel down and remove his beautiful, expensively cut leather shoes. Then I slide my hands up his pants, to the already undone belt and the exposed cock underneath it, rigid as a steel rod once more against the faint breeze blowing in from the beach.
I smirk at Erik as I slowly pull his pants and underwear down to his feet, then gently kiss the very tip of his cock. I hear him whistle in a breath as I flick my tongue against it and run my fingers down the full length of the shaft.
When I fully envelop the top of his dick with my mouth, Erik can’t help but buck his hips into my face. I have the grace not to visibly gag, keeping my composure as I look back up at Erik and smile around his girth.
I slide my mouth down, running my tongue around his cock as I do so. Lord knows how I’m going to take the entire monstrous size inside my mouth, but you can be damned if I don’t at least try.
“Rose!” Erik chokes out as I begin using my hand as well as my mouth, settling into a steady rhythm as I suck and stroke the length of his cock, taking a little more of it in my mouth with every lick.
Erik’s hands are in my hair, entwining and pulling and tugging me closer toward him. I glance up; with his shirt fully unbuttoned and his bow-tie hanging loose around his neck, Erik looks sexy as hell.
When it sounds as if Erik’s breathing has gotten much faster, he pulls away from my mouth. I take a few deep, very necessary breaths.
“I want to see you fucking naked. Now.”
Oh. That command tingles all the way through my nerve endings, setting my body on fire.
Erik hauls me to my feet and deftly turns me around, unzipping my dress and sliding his hands over my arms, causing the dress to fall to my feet. Then he undoes the clasp of my bra, throwing it to the floor in a second.
“You wasted no time in undressing me,” I say wryly, but Erik spins me back around and kisses me passionately.
“I don’t want to waste any more fucking time, Rose Clark.”
Then he picks me up and carries me to his bed, a queen-sized Cherrywood number with a carved headboard and lightweight cotton sheets. He places me down on top much more gently than he dropped me on the couch, then proceeds to kiss and suck every bare inch of my skin.
It’s unbearable.
When his fingers start stroking my clit once more, he teases my nipples between his teeth, I let out a low moan and grab his cock. It feels even bigger in my small hand than it did inside me.
I glide my fingers up and down the shaft as Erik’s own fingers move faster against my clit, and then he pushes them mercilessly into my pussy. I cry out desperately; what I wouldn’t give for his dick to be back inside me.
I curl my legs around his back, pushing Erik’s body against my own.
“Erik…”
“I know, I know,” he replies, planting kisses down my neck and collarbone as he speaks. “But you’re the one who said I could take my time after round one, right?”
I can’t help but return the wicked grin he gives me.
I guess I did say that.
7
Erik
When I wake up, Rose is nowhere to be seen.
Yawning heavily, I roll onto my front and grab my phone to check it—she’s sent me a text saying that she’s gone back home to get ready for work and will meet me in Hampton Properties at eleven.
How romantic.
I look at the time—it’s a little after nine—so I decide to take my time with my morning routine, even though I’m two hours behind my usual schedule.
After the night I just had with Rose, I reason that staying in bed too late is completely justified. Although, can it really be called anything remotely lazy when you’re still fucking a beautiful woman at four in the morning? I somehow doubt it.
Smiling in sleepy satisfaction, I work a knot out of my shoulder and stretch my arms above my head before proceeding to the bathroom for a much-needed shower.
The steam helps push out the residual alcohol in my system. When it’s gone, I realize that I’m starving, as if I haven’t eaten in days. Considering how physically active I was instead of sleeping last night, it’s not all that surprising.
I linger in the shower longer than necessary, indulging in the memories that come flooding back from the previous night: fucki
ng Rose on the couch and on the bed…on the fallen cushions of the living room floor…on the kitchen countertop, when we went through to get some water.
And, then, on the bed again twice…
No wonder I feel so tired.
I walk past the destruction we wrought on the living room after I feel sufficiently refreshed from the shower, a towel wrapped around my hips as I dry my hair with another. I’m definitely not getting the deposit back on this place.
Wandering over to the kitchen, I open the fridge to see if there’s anything I can cook for breakfast before belatedly remembering that I’ve eaten out most days for the past two weeks. The fridge is heartbreakingly empty.
Instead, I brush my teeth, throw on a pair of linen pants and a fine cotton shirt—choosing to dress more casually to combat the rising heat of the mid-morning sun—and head out for breakfast.
Just ten minutes away sits a café that I’ve frequented enough that the barista likely considers me a summer regular. I’d prefer to find a coffee shop a little off the beaten track, especially since I’ve been dying to explore more of local Verona Falls, but I haven’t found the time to look for one yet—not that I’d know where to begin anyway.
After ordering an iced coffee and a breakfast muffin, I sit at an outside table and soak up the sun, sighing.
I shouldn’t have slept with Rose. I mean, personally, yes, I definitely should have slept with her—and would love nothing more than to do it again—but in a business sense, I absolutely shouldn’t have.
She’s my real-estate agent. So much is on the line for me with this deal. Not for the first time do I wonder if I should tell Rose the real reason I want to procure the land that I want.
Something tells me that Rose may be more forthcoming if she knew I wasn’t planning on building some kind of resort or shopping mall, but…
If I tell her about why I want the land, then that means I’m genuinely growing attached to her. If she was simply my real-estate agent, I wouldn’t care in the slightest what she thought about my intentions.