7. Renée
7
RENéE
Q uiet descended on the room. I laid there dazed and complete. Every muscle and bone in my body felt well and truly…well, to put it crudely…fucked.
I don’t think I’d ever had so many orgasms in a row. Starting with the ones on the beach.
I turned my head to study the man who I’d selected and paid for on an app. How often did he do this? Did he hire himself out for lonely women on the regular? Was it his job?
Dear Lord!
Even if he didn’t work as a so-called professional, he had a lot more experience than me. At least, maybe it wasn’t the amount of experience as much as the quality.
Yes, I was one of those great believers in quality over quantity. I had a feeling this weekend I’d get to indulge in both.
C.T. rolled off the bed and headed to the bathroom. He was so comfortable and unashamed in his body. He walked around naked as if he foresworn clothing as a rite of passage.
He had a great ass.
Red impressions of my fingers and half-moons of fingernails were visible on his cheeks. I bit my lips to keep from laughing in pure embarrassment. Really, he’d made me do it. He’d taken me to the edge so many times that I thought I was going to slip into madness.
And when we did…
Wow!
Up until the moment we’d orgasmed together, I thought it was a matter of myth and legend. Something that bad Hollywood movies and cheap pornos depicted to arouse viewers.
I mean, I didn’t think it was outside of the realm of possibility, but it had never happened to me.
On the contrary, my former lovers had run the gamut from only worrying of their own pleasure and calling it good enough once they were satisfied, to maybe getting me there only some of the time.
Alec had a fifty-fifty success rate—which to me still spelled failure.
I rose and put on my robe. Wetness pooled between my legs, and I wanted to knock on the door to hurry him along so I could clean up, but I didn’t. I wasn’t about to be rude to him this weekend.
I went out onto the deck and checked on the food. After that, I was starving. Nerves had kept me from eating earlier in the day. Now, my stomach rumbled in protest.
Water ran in the bathroom, then the toilet flushed. I caught C.T. in my periphery as he walked back to the bed. He turned and went back to the bathroom, then returned with one of the resort’s complimentary robes.
The white soft cotton looked good on him. His tanned features were set off in the color and his eyes looked impossibly blue.
The man was simply gorgeous, and I admitted to feeling a little jealous wondering if he had someone special back home.
Well, I hoped he didn’t for more reasons than him being attached. I would hate to think his morals so deficient that he’d have sex with a woman half a world away while in a relationship. People lied about such things all the time. Just because the app vetted people, didn’t mean one hadn’t slipped through.
“Are you hungry?” I asked because I had nothing else to say. Didn’t know what to say in this situation. I hadn’t been in one like this before.
Post-coital relations had always been difficult for me, but at least they hadn’t been men I’d bought and paid for.
C.T. pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. He reached for me and sat me on his lap. “Yes.”
To prove his point, he lifted one of the silver lids on the dishes and picked a piece of fruit up with his fingers. “But I suppose you must be getting rather peckish yourself.”
I watched him as he brought the fruit up to my lips and ran it across.
“Now, open your mouth like a good girl.”
Heat spilled from my gut to my groin. Everything this man did was sexy and luscious, and I wanted to take a bite out of him.
I let the tip of my tongue touch the fruit, then rolled it around, pursed my lips, sucking the juice off it.
A rumble came from deep in his chest. “Naughty girl.”
Naughty, maybe not. Daring, yes.
I’d stepped so far out of my comfort zone; I didn’t even check myself. Why should I? C.T. didn’t seem to know who I was or what I did to earn my billions. Then again, would he have mentioned it if he had? Most likely, he thought of me as a legacy baby or an influencer who hit it lucky. I guess in a way I was exactly that—but so much more.
“Open up,” he urged.
I did but made sure that eating that square of mango was sexy as possible. All the while a voice in the back of my head told me I probably looked ridiculous.
He moved me on his lap. A decided bulge ground into my hip. He was hard again.
I had my answer. He most certainly liked what he saw.
But I needed verification. I opened his robe and ran my hand down his stomach.
His gaze heated. “Did you lose something?”
“Mmm, no. More like found.” I wrapped my fingers around his length and began to stroke him up and down.
He shifted his hips with a grunt, then lifted me. “Put your legs around my waist.”
“You don’t have a condom.”
“Never say never.” He reached into his pocket and pulled one out. Oh, he was a regular Boy Scout, this one.
Dutifully, I took it and opened the package, then rolled it down his shaft, in a slow descent. When I reached the base, I stroked my finger to the underside of his balls and rode the seam with my fingertip.
A harsh breath came from between his teeth. “Climb on.”
Being the Queen of Vanilla, this was a different position for me. Not only did I have my legs around him, but we were sitting on a deck chair as the sun sank on the horizon behind us.
He took his erection in hand and guided it to me, then rose up. My body wasn’t used to so much sex. Not twice in the same night. As a result, I felt a little more filled this time. Maybe it was the position. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. The only thing I knew was that it felt so good I started moving my hips, trying to find the rhythm we’d had before.
Each slide of my sex over his sent delicious thrills rocking through my body.
C.T. grabbed my hips and moved me. “Tell me you like to feel my cock inside you.”
The rawness of his words shocked but excited at the same time. I nodded.
He lifted a hand and touched my lips. “Tell me. I want to hear the words.”
They clogged in my throat. I’d never said anything like that in my life.
He surged up into me again and again.
The motion and ferocity of it stole my breath. I couldn’t have spoken if I tried.