13. Xander #2
I reached between her legs, sliding a single digit inside her tight warmth and felt how wet she was for me. I knew what she was thinking—that this had turned her on too.
“Better?” she purred against my lips, her eyes fluttering closed.
I pulled back, my dick still hard and throbbing in her palm.
“Not quite,” I growled, unsure why I was acting this way.
It felt like I had to prove to her that I was better than him, that she was somehow mine, even though I couldn’t admit that was what I wanted.
“Say the sluttiest thing you can think of.” Amelia’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed pink, but dammit if it didn’t make me harder.
I thrust my fingers into her core, through her thick moisture, and rubbed the heel of my palm against her clit. She whimpered and arched into it while clawing at my shoulders. Her hand continued to stroke my cock, but awkwardly now as she got more worked up.
“I…Christ, Xander, I’m not like that. I don’t know what you want me to say.” She whimpered when I drove my fingers deeper into her, leaned forward and bit my shoulder.
“Tell me you’re a slut and my cock is the only one that does it for you,” I demanded, still unsure where this sudden change in my demeanor was coming from. Amelia hesitated, her eyes locked with mine, her pupils dilating as she bit down on her lower lip.
“I’m a…slut…and…I can’t.” Her whimpers were music to my ears.
I loved hearing her say those words. The dirtier she was with me, the more I loved it.
The more it boosted that part of my ego that needed to be stroked to get me off.
She was enraptured by my actions too, unable to stroke me anymore, but her hand lingered on my dick anyway.
“Say it now, Ms. Johnson.” My eyes flashed with lust as she whined.
“Your cock is…the only one that…” she panted.
As she did, her body began to pulse, and an orgasm ripped through her.
Her core tightened around my fingers, teeth sinking into my skin again, and I smirked as I watched how those words brought a flush to her cheeks and her climax in the same breath.
Seeing the release had my cock dripping.
When her body began to calm, I pulled my hand free, bringing it to her lips. “Suck them clean, now,” I ordered, stopping short of calling her a slut. It was the last thing I wanted to do, humiliate her or insult her. But my God was she incredibly hot when she was so nasty with me.
Amelia’s jaw dropped, tongue lazily licking up the moisture off my digits.
When she was finished, I brought my lips to hers and kissed her hard, tasting her juices on her tongue.
I wanted to be inside her and feel her pulse around me, but I wanted to feel that closeness first, when she and I both let down our guards and we’re fully raw, primal, the core of us exposed to the other.
“You want to be a whore for me?” I asked her, afraid of how naked I felt by saying the words.
“I want to be the only slut you bend over your desk…”
Her words triggered a cascade of something inside my chest. I spun her around, pressed her tits to the glass, grabbed a handful of her hair, and slid into her pussy from behind, thrusting so hard she whimpered.
The way she fit me like a glove made every jealous, possessive cell in my body explode.
I was drowning in her. I wanted to own every inch of her.
“Say it,” I growled against her ear. “Say you’re mine.”
“Only yours,” she breathed, fogging the glass. I gripped her hips hard, driving into her even harder, and she wriggled her hand between her legs to rub herself.
The idea of pinning her against the window and screwing her raw while the city below watched us only made my arousal suck me closer to the edge.
Every one of her exhales fogged the window more, and I leaned into her ear and whispered, “Louder, Ms. Johnson. I don’t think heard you all the way in New York . ”
“I’m yours,” Amelia moaned as her second orgasm broke, making her face rock against the glass. I couldn’t hold back. My body was poised to flood her, so I let go with a grunt, my hand still wrapped around her torso.
Amelia’s fingers pressed against the glass, her orgasm milking every last drop of my seed from my body as we both panted for air.
The thought crossed my mind that I never wanted to let her go, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I needed someone.
Like I wanted something more with them, something I’d never be able to admit to her because I had drawn a hard line in the sand already.
I pulled out, leaving her breathless against the glass, and turned away from her to hide whatever emotion was still on my face. The thought of her walking out of this office and returning to any sort of interaction with Godwin Tharmor terrified me, but it surfaced as anger.
“Whoa,” she said, stumbling away from the window. She walked to my desk, took out some tissues, and wiped herself clean, then she picked up her clothing and began to dress as I put my dick away and zipped my pants.
She was so casual, so relaxed. Her hair was a bit mussed, cheeks still flushed from excitement, and when I found my shirt and slid it on, she turned to me with a furrowed brow.
“What’s wrong? It wasn’t good? Did I say the wrong thing?” Her desire to please me was more than I expected. This sort of thing usually didn’t happen. We didn’t lie around talking for a while after sex; that was something couples did, and we weren’t a couple.
“It was fine,” I grumbled, beginning to button my own shirt. “But I’d like a change to our agreement.” I didn’t have to see it to know my eyes had darkened. She dipped her head, appearing to draw back a little as she slid on her stockings and avoided eye contact.
“Alright?”
“If we’re going to keep doing this, I don’t want you having sex with anyone else.
” Her eyes popped up at my words, surprise written there for a second before it vanished.
Her lip quivered like she wanted to say something, but I continued before she could.
“For health reasons—you get it. We commit to only having sex with each other, so we don’t share bugs… ”
I knew controlling her actions would not control her heart, and if she wanted to fall in love—or stay in love—with someone else, I couldn’t stop it. Something inside of me, however, felt the urge to protect my own heart, to limit her ability to hurt me.
“Yeah, that makes perfect sense…” Amelia smiled softly and walked to where her shoes lay on the ground. I followed her, tucking my shirt in, and when she had one hand on the doorknob, the other brushing across her hair, I leaned in to kiss her.
Again, not something we ever did after sex.
Normally she just waltzed out and that was that.
My body felt like it was on autopilot, like I was mimicking what I’d seen her do with Tharmor, and I felt so out of place.
I even wrapped my arm around her in an awkward hug, and she chuckled to diffuse the strange tension.
“I—”
Her phone buzzed, she pulled it out of her pocket. I looked down to see Tharmor’s image on the screen as she swiped to look at his message and laughed. I stopped short of reading what he said, but anger surged through me as she snickered.
“I gotta run…” Her eyes were full of mirth. Mine were certainly full of possessive, jealous anger. “I’ll be by around two for our meeting.”
Amelia snuck out and quietly shut the door, while I stomped to my desk and hit the cup that held my extra pens right off it. It slammed into the bookshelf behind my desk, and the pens went in every direction.
Why couldn’t I be normal? Why did I have to be the broken one that couldn’t connect with people? My mother had destroyed my heart, and all I wanted was to feel something other than cynical anger and fear.
I should just end the arrangement because I knew I would never be able to give her what she wanted, what she already had with Godwin. If she was with me, she would only feel neglected and alone, probably empty. And she deserved better than that.
I was incapable of loving her.
So why couldn’t I let her go?