by Serena Grey
I sense his hesitation again, but before I can truly let myself wonder why, it’s gone. His hand snakes around me, lifting me against his body while he moves. I feel the glass wall at my back, just as his lips cover mine again.
This time, the kiss is deep and demanding. His tongue strokes mine, sending sweet hot shivers coursing through me. I kiss him back, sucking on his lips, his tongue… He lowers his hands to stroke my thighs, lifting my dress as his hands travel back up to my waist. Still kissing me, he molds the curve of my ass, then slips one hand into the crotch of my panties.
His fingers slide over the heated center of my arousal, and his teeth graze my lower lip. “You’re so wet.”
“I told you I was ready,” I reply breathlessly.
He takes hold of the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head. Then he lowers his head to bite my nipple through my bra, making me squirm. I bury one hand in his silky hair, the other greedily stroking the swollen evidence of his need for me.
He groans and lifts his face from my breasts, and his heated lips settle on mine again. I undo his belt and button fly, sliding my hand inside his briefs to feel the warm heat of his throbbing cock.
Touching him makes me moan against his lips. I push him back and drop to my knees, pulling his briefs down to his thighs so I can take him in my mouth. He’s hot and hard, and I suck him greedily, feeling the wetness of my arousal dripping down my swollen sex.
I stroke my tongue along the underside of his cock, and I hear him growl, pulling out of my mouth to join me on the floor. He rests on his haunches, before lowering my head back to his cock. I sigh and take him in my mouth again, hollowing my cheeks, sucking him deep, loving the taste of his skin and the feel of him against my lips and tongue.
He rocks his hips, grinding into my mouth, the sound of pleasure he makes, getting me hotter and even more aroused. His hands move feverishly over my back, stroking my skin, and he leans over me, to slide them into my panties and cup and squeeze my butt cheeks. I spread my legs so he can slide his fingers into me from behind and stroke the heat of my dripping center.
“I love your mouth,” he whispers, kissing the skin of my back and grazing his teeth across my skin, “so hot...”
I moan in response, with his cock still in my mouth. He sighs, and leans back upright, his hands coming up along my back to thread in my hair. “I want to come inside you,” he says, pulling out and pushing me up to my feet. Still kneeling, he pulls down my panties, pressing his lips between my legs, nuzzling me and sucking on my clit.
Sensation spreads through me. I grind against his lips, moaning his name. He slips his fingers inside me, and my body clenches around them. With a growl, he gets to his feet and steers me towards the wall, stopping when my back is pressed against the glass. Then he lifts me off the floor, spreading my thighs, and pressing the tip of his cock against me.
I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him inside, he obliges me, ramming into me so deep that my back rubs against the wall. I brace my hands on his shoulders and he lets go of my thighs, his hands coming up to pull down the top of my bra and expose my heavy swollen breasts and sensitive nipples.
His lips part, and he makes a rough sound in his throat. He braces one hand behind me and lowers the other to plump one aching breast, then he lowers his head to suck hard on the other nipple as he starts to pump into me.
My toes curl. The pleasure is beyond intense. He fucks me like a starving man, as if he wants to leave a mark on me, and I love every minute of it. I moan my pleasure, whispering in his ear, telling him how good it feels, how I want him to fuck me forever.
His thrusts grow faster, more feral. I tighten my legs around him, my body curling with intense pleasure. Waves of sensation wash over me, and I come, crying out his name.
Still hard, he pulls out of me, then he drops me to my unsteady legs and turns me around so I’m facing the wall. I barely have time to brace my hands on the glass before he pushes into me again. Sensation fills me, and I cry out weakly. The pleasure intensifies as he starts to move, each deep thrust giving me everything I need and more.
His hands flex at my hips, rubbing feverishly over my heated skin. He bends over me, pressing his chest against my back as his hands come around me to squeeze my breasts. He rubs my tender nipples, making me cry out in pleasure even as he strokes me deep inside with the sweet thrusts of his cock.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, even though I know he won’t. Blood rushes through me. Through the glass I can see the view outside, the other buildings, I know no one can see us, but there’s an abandoned sense of exhibition at the thought that they might. I tighten my body around Landon, my inner muscles gripping him tightly. He growls and thrusts harder, each strong flexing of his hips making me forget everything, everything but him, and how unbelievably good he feels inside me.
“I’m going to come,” he breathes harshly, one hand releasing my breast to rub hard at my clit. “You’re going to make me come so hard.”
I lose my breath, my hands pushing at the glass as my body goes weak. A river of heat explodes between my thighs, spreading through me, and I cry out helplessly as my body clenches violently around his cock. He fucks me through my loud climax, riding it to his own. When he comes, he breathes my name, his muscles tensing as the warm spurts of his orgasm add to the pleasurable heat inside me.
He sags against my body, his chest covering the sweat-sheened skin of my back. After a few seconds, he pulls out of me and turns me to face him so he can press kisses all over my face. I wrap my arms around him, feeling incredibly close to him.
“You really did miss me,” I tease, breathless.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he replies. He chuckles and adjusts my bra, then picks up my dress and panties and hands them to me, then adjusts his own clothes before dropping another kiss on my lips.
“I can’t wait,” I say, laughing, before adding seriously. “I missed you so much.”
His smile disappears, and his eyes search my face. I frown, sensing the same hesitation from before.
“What’s the matter?” I ask softly, the vibe I’m getting from him brings my own fears to my mind. “Is something wrong?”
“You should get dressed,” he says, his eyes flicking to the dress I’m still holding. “There’s nothing wrong.”
He’s obviously deflecting. My shoulders drop, my mind going back to last night, and that picture of him and Ava Sinclair. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
At first I think he’s going to deflect again, but then he raises a hand to cup my chin. “I don’t like to share what’s mine,” he says, a dark edge to his voice. “Not now, not ever. Do you understand?”
I step back, suddenly aware that I’m only wearing a bra. I clutch my dress, feeling naked. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Jack Weyland.”
I meet his gaze, realizing as I see the expression on his face that he knows about last night, and that kiss. My face creases in a frown as the high from my orgasm dissipates.
“Is that why you have Rafael driving me around,” I ask evenly, “so you can spy on me?”
“I didn’t need to spy on you. You kissed him in front of my club. I didn’t need Rafael to tell me about that.”
He couldn’t have known when we spoke earlier. I remember the expression on his face when he walked into the suite, reading something on his phone. He’d probably found out just then.
“You could have asked me what happened instead of jumping to conclusions,” I say softly.
“Oh?” he raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” I glare at him. “For your information, he kissed me. I neither wanted it nor invited it. And you know what? I don’t like to share what’s mine either. So the next time you decide to enjoy Ava Sinclair’s company, you can keep that in mind.”
I leave him standing there and stalk to the bedroom. What right did he have to police my actions? I’d tried to swallow my jealousy about Ava because I did
n’t want to accuse him unnecessarily, and his first reaction to an unwanted, uninvited kiss was to accuse me.
Still clutching my dress, I go to the bathroom door and start to open it, but Landon’s voice stops me.
“I thought we’d had this conversation about Ava,” he says, his voice low.
“I thought we’d had the conversation about Jack,” I toss back. “Why were you with her yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me you used to sleep with her when I saw that picture of you two?”
“I’ve never asked you for an inventory of everyone you ever slept with,” Landon replies. “Do you think I should punctuate everything I say about her with a statement about how, a long time ago, we used to fuck?”
I pull in a short breath. So that part was true. “Maybe it would have been fair for you to give me that information seeing as everywhere I look, the two of you are being photographed together. Was it also a business meeting yesterday?” I say mockingly, “Did you decide to ‘save time’ by concluding your business over dinner?”
He laughs bitterly. “You’re one to talk. I’m supposed to endure an inquisition whenever you see and totally misconstrue a picture. Meanwhile, it’s perfectly okay for you to spend as much time as you like with your precious Jack.”
“My precious Jack?” I shake my head. I’m so angry, I want to scream in frustration, to cry, or break something. I close my eyes and sigh tiredly. “You know what? I have no idea why we’re arguing. We both know why we’re still together, so we might as well forget the things we can’t agree about and you know, maybe fuck… that’s obviously the only area where we work well together.”
His jaw sets, and I turn away from him, opening the door to the bathroom. I don’t see him start to move until he reaches me. “You’re right,” he says, taking my arm and pulling me around. “Maybe we should do just that.”
I pull my arm away from his grip. “Just as long as you know I’m not Ava.”
His laugh is angry and derisive. “And you know I’m not Jack.”
I’m suddenly on the verge of tears. “God! How can you be so…”
“So what?” he interrupts. “So jealous? But you know exactly how that feels don’t you?” One hand is at my waist pulling me to him while the other pushes between my legs. “This is mine,” he says. “You are mine.” He slides his fingers through the wetness in my core, “and your body knows it.”
I’m ashamed of the pleasure I feel when he touches me. I’m ashamed of how my anger ceases to matter. I should push him away, tell him to go to hell, but his fingers slide into me, and I moan his name. “Landon…” I’m not sure if I want to ask him to stop, or to shut up and fuck me.
“It’s what you want isn’t it? It’s the only reason you ever agreed to be with me.” He lifts me off my feet and carries me to the bed, laying me on my back, my legs spread. “You like how it feels when my cock is deep inside you. That’s what you want.”
He kneels between my legs, quickly undoing his pants and freeing his cock. He’s hard again, his face set. There is no tenderness in what he’s about to do, just pain, jealousy, and anger.
I should correct him, tell him that I’m here because I want to be with him, because I love him.
But I don’t. I can’t. It’s the last shield I have to protect my heart. So I concentrate on how much I want him, because even though he’s the source of the ache in my heart, he’s also the only one who can take it away. He’s like a drug, bad for me in the long run, but the only thing that can make me feel good.
“Yes,” I whisper. “It’s what I want.”
He plunges into my tight core with a deep grunt. He’s hard and hot, and his thrusts are deep and fast, as if he’s working out his feelings by fucking me. My fingers twist in the sheets, all my anger, all my fury coalescing into a need to take what I can from him, to enjoy the pleasure without regret, and it brings me swiftly to a rolling climax.
It’s over quickly for him too. He rolls off me, lying on his back beside me, his breaths coming fast.
I start to get up, but he sits up and reaches for my hand, pulling me back gently to sit beside him. He keeps my hand in his, his fingers wrapping around mine in a way that would feel tender and protective if I wasn’t so sad. “I should have told you about Ava,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it mattered. I was wrong.”
I raise one shoulder in a small shrug. “It’s okay.”
There is a short silence. “I tried not to care about you and Jack,” he says. “You told me you no longer have feelings for him, I tried to concentrate on that. I... I just couldn’t.”
The same way I’d been trying not to care about Ava. I swallow. “I know how the kiss with Jack would have seemed to you, but it wasn’t what it looked like.”
He lets go of my hand as I get to my feet. His body is hunched over, and I want to reach for him, to hold him maybe, to recapture the feeling of closeness we had a few hours ago.
But I don’t. I leave him sitting there and go to the bathroom to take a shower.
AFTERWARD, we eat in silence. I’ve showered and changed into casual pants and a top. He has also changed into a black long-sleeved tee and light gray pants. It’s testament to how sad I am that I can’t even concentrate on how devastatingly appealing he looks.
We really have nothing to build a relationship on. I see that now. Just sex, and the things we keep from each other. What kind of relationship can we have if we don’t trust each other? If the moments of happiness and intimacy are so soon followed by accusations and pain.
Landon’s brow is furrowed. He looks as troubled as I’m feeling. Our eyes meet, and the helpless somberness in his makes me want to cry. “The gala starts at eight,” he tells me, his voice low.
“I know,” I reply, my own voice small.
“Claude will provide anything you need. Hair, makeup, whatever. He’s already been instructed.”
I don’t reply.
I can feel his eyes on my face. “Aidan will be here. He’s landing in the evening.”
That brings a small smile to my lips. “I’d like to see him,” I say. “What about Jules and Cameron?” I’d enjoyed the company of his friend Cameron McDaniel, and his heavily pregnant wife during my last visit. “Will they come?”
He smiles. “They can’t make it. Jules is expecting any minute.”
I chuckle. “Of course.”
The small talk dries out after that, and after we eat, Landon leaves the suite, going back downstairs to conclude preparations for tonight.
If trying to act like everything was okay had been a drain, being alone is worse.
Are you happy? Jack’s voice whispers in my head.
I am not. The weight of all my chaotic emotions from the past few weeks feels so heavy now. How could I have thought I could bear it? I feel like I’m breaking into pieces, unsure where the real source of my pain is.
He’ll never love me.
One day, when he finds out how I really feel about him, he’ll recoil from the idea of returning my love, and he’ll walk away.
My insecurities about our relationship will continue to eat me alive until that day comes.
No, I’m not happy.
The thoughts chase through my mind until I want to scream.
How did we end up here? Neither of us really knew what it really meant, this ‘relationship’ we’d agreed to have. We hadn’t defined anything, no boundaries, no feelings, just sex, jealousy, and allusions, but never the truth.
I should have told you about Ava, he’d said. Told me what exactly? Only that they used to be lovers? He hadn’t bothered to explain why he was suddenly spending so much time with her. Had last night’s picture also been a work meeting? It’s no use wondering, and I know I won’t ask him now, what would be the point?
My phone is on the couch beside me, and almost as if I have a masochistic desire to punish myself, I go back to the article from last night, to look at the picture of Landon and Ava.
Sources say they have a passionate h
istory, I read again, wondering what exactly happened between them. I just want to know for sure, I tell myself, as I type in a search term with both their names.
The results are few and span a period of years. A small soundbite about a house party in the Hamptons from about seven years ago, where they are referred to as ‘scions of hotel dynasties’ and described as an item. Then there’s a report from a year later, about her marriage to an Italian race car driver from an immensely wealthy family.
A gossip item puts them together again about three years later, they’re sailing in Europe after her divorce. A follow-up article claims that she has broken his heart and is dating a tech billionaire, then in another one dated soon after, they’re together again, having dinner in New York.
It goes on like that, and I start to wonder if I’m just another temporary separation, like her marriages. The thought is heartbreaking. I close my browser set the phone on the table, then close my eyes, covering my face with my hands.
I’m not going to think about Ava, I decide. She’s not even the problem. Even if she hadn’t appeared, Landon and I would still have arrived here, at this point, where the only sensible thing was to accept that we just weren’t working.
It’s clear what I should do, but when I remember how numb I’d been without him, I don’t know if I have the strength.
I hear my phone ringing, and I almost decide not to take the call, but I change my mind when I see that it’s Laurie.
“Helloooo.” She draws out the word, sounding cheerful. In the back of my mind, I wonder if Chadwick has anything to do with that. “How’s Frisco?”
“Great.” I try to sound upbeat. “How are you?
“I’m lovely. Going on a date tonight, actually.”
“With Chadwick?”
“Yes.” She sighs. “He’s making me dinner at his place.
I roll my eyes. “Laurie, that’s just code for ‘come over so we can fuck after you try to eat my awful excuse for a salad.’ You know that, right?”