Chapter 18 #2
“Don’t make me stop. I won’t take you out if you don’t want me to.” I move faster against him, and he starts thrusting into my touch, finally fucking my hand the way he’s fucking my pussy with his fingers. It drives me crazy. That thought. Us fucking each other like this.
His fingers curl inside of me, hitting my spot with each vicious, sloppy thrust while his thumb presses in against my clit. Hard. He’s not rubbing, but the pressure in combination with the rhythm he’s set inside of me is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
Stars dance behind my eyes, my toes curling in my combat boots as I get closer and closer, the feral sounds and harsh breaths coming from Kaplan driving me on, building me higher. Getting me there faster than I would have imagined possible.
My legs shake, my limbs turning to jelly, and he takes the hand abusing my breast and wraps it around my waist, holding me up and back into him. My free hand hits the table off to the side, my head back, voice shredded.
I’m searching for his piercing, angry that I can’t feel his skin against mine. I move my hand faster, rougher, feeling a small outline. No wait. Two outlines. One on his tip and another on his shaft and I spasm, clenching and dripping all over him.
“I want this,” I tell him. I want to feel what I’m touching inside of me. I want to know what getting fucked, truly getting fucked, by Kaplan is all about. Because I know what he’s doing to me right now is a sample. A tiny teaser of what the main event could be.
“You want to feel my cock fill you up? Pound into you?”
“Yes. Please, yes.”
“Filthy, sweet girl, you want to play, don’t you?”
“God, yes! I want that so bad.”
His cock pulses against my hand, growing impossibly hard and thick, his body mindlessly fucking into me. His thumb taps my clit twice as his fingers hold in on that magical spot inside of me and I explode all over him. Writhing and shaking and screaming out words and sounds I can’t make sense of.
A heady, loud bellow and a “ Fuuuuck! ” and Kaplan is coming too, squirting hot cum all over the inside of his slacks. I want to see it. I want to see his face and watch as he comes, but he’s holding me too tight, not allowing me to move as he continues to rub me through my orgasm.
When the last of the aftershocks finish, he slides his fingers from me. I wince when he pinches my sensitive, swollen clit, tremble and spasm one last time before he releases me. I collapse against the table, panting for my life, the world spinning behind my eyes.
A chuckle from behind me has my eyes blinking open, a soft, lazy, sated smile on my lips as I twist my head, cocking an eyebrow. “Something funny?”
He’s staring down at the wet spot on his dark slacks. “I just came in my pants like a teenager. Hell, I don’t think I did that even when I was a teenager.”
No. He’s too controlled for that, never giving more than he’s willing to lose.
He wasn’t lying when he said his attraction to me isn’t a game he’s going to play.
I already know he’s going to stick to his word about this being a one and done and while part of me is relieved by that, the rest is severely disappointed.
Sadly, that was the best orgasm of my life.
“It’s a good look on you,” I tell him, straightening myself and adjusting my clothes. Without meeting his eyes, I remove my apron and bend down, shutting off the gas to the forge from beneath. The fire dies instantly, bathing us in darkness with only the limited warehouse lights overhead to see by.
“Are you mad?”
I shake my head as I go about cleaning up my tools and locking the unused gold and the half-finished necklace in the safe I keep here.
“No. I’m not.” And I mean it. I’m not. I’m just confused and slightly guilty that I’m keeping a secret as big as I am from him, and I don’t know.
I don’t know what’s going through my head right now.
His hand clasps mine, both of us staring at our linked fingers. “It’s how it has to be.”
“I know that. I’m not mad. It was fun, but I don’t want this to get weird and I feel like if we stay here any longer, it will.”
He tugs me into him, his other hand that smells like me on my jaw, tilting my head up and it’s just now that I realize he never kissed my lips.
Only my neck. His eyes study mine, attempting to read me to see if I’m lying to him, I presume, and when he realizes I’m not, he smiles, pressing his lips to my forehead.
Releasing me, he holds my hand as I grab my bag and then he’s walking me out to my car in the abandoned parking lot. “I hate you coming out here alone like this. It’s not safe.”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle myself and it’s honestly not your concern.”
He snarls, not liking that at all, but tough shit. Suddenly I’m unreasonably angry. Bereft and maybe that’s why I’m angry. It’s not his fault. It’s mine and I release his hand, opening my door. He helps me up into my Jeep and leans in, kissing my cheek.
“I’ll pick you up Monday morning so we can ride into the hospital together.”
“Oh goody. The hospital. I almost forgot to throw up over it today. Thanks for the reminder.”
He doesn’t smile. His eyes are all over my face, his fingers too as they glide along my cheeks, down the slope of my nose, across my lips and back up through my hair that is now sloppily falling out of the tight bun I had it up in all this time.
“You really are devastatingly, unnaturally beautiful.” A kiss to my temple. “Good night, Bianca.”
I start up my Jeep and he shuts the door behind me.
I don’t watch to make sure he gets in his car, though he’s parked beside me.
I just drive off, needing to flee both him and my scattered thoughts.
It isn’t until I walk in my door and flip on my light and read the text he just sent me telling me to lock up and hear his car pulling away from the curb that I realize he followed me home. Making sure I was safe.
Warmth spreads through me, my chest clenching in the most dangerous of ways. I have no idea what I’m going to do about him now.