7. Astrid
Bolton was home for a couple of days, and like the last time he’d come back, his mood had lifted considerably. Instead of expecting me to cook, he took me out to dinner. He was engaged and thoughtful. We slept together, but I wasn’t totally there. I thought about the others.
I thought about Theo.
I didn’t usually think about Theo when I was with Bolton, but I thought about him more and more. I wondered what he was doing, if he was sleeping with other people since I was sleeping with Bolton. He hadn’t texted me, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to text him first, like he didn’t want his message to be seen by the wrong person.
I was on the couch in the living room when my phone lit up with his name.
My eyes immediately shifted to Bolton.
He was on his computer, working in front of the TV like he usually did in the evenings. He used to go into his study, but now he spent that time with me.
I felt a jolt of guilt, but then it quickly faded away, because I was innocent of any wrongdoing.
I grabbed my phone and read his message.
Let’shavedinnertomorrow.
He didn’t ask women to dinner, but now he’d asked me three times. All he’d done was touch my thigh, but our relationship felt far more intimate. His dark eyes and hard appearance flicked across my mind. Then there was the desire, the image of his naked chest that burned behind my eyes, the excitement that made my hands tremble.
I glanced at Bolton.
He was too absorbed in his computer to notice.
CanItakeyououtthistime?
I heard his deep voice in my head when I read his response. No.
Comeon…
But I’ll let you pick the place, sweetheart.
Bolton and I never discussed the terms of our new relationship, but I assumed the open marriage only applied to the times he was gone from the house. That meant my time with Theo was restricted to a couple days a week.
I wondered who Bolton was spending time with, if it was a woman he liked…or if it was a line of nameless women who were only in his bed long enough to crinkle the sheets. I tried not to think about it too much. Otherwise, it would crush me.
I drove to Theo’s place like I did last time, an overnight bag in the back seat, the same bag I’d brought last time but didn’t use.
I wasn’t sure if I would use it this time either.
If Theo was frustrated by the slow pace, he didn’t show it. For a man with a ruthless reputation, he was quite the gentleman. Said things to me I’d never heard another man say. Made me feel his touch even when he was across the table. In the short amount of time I’d spent with him, I knew he was a special breed of man.
When I arrived at his place, he was ready for me, wearing a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed to his elbows, showing off the cords that popped in his forearms, the ink across his beautiful skin. Every time I saw him, he dressed casually like this, not having any desire to impress anyone around him.
But I found that confidence more impressive than anything he could wear.
He could wear a burlap sack and still look like a sculpture made by da Vinci’s own hands.
He had to tilt his chin down to look at me, even in the high heels I wore, because he must be six and a half feet tall. A behemoth of height and muscle, a gourmet cut of meat, he was the finest specimen of man.
I held his stare, feeling my skin melt under the heat of his gaze. Whether I wore a little black cocktail dress or a pencil skirt for the office, he looked at me like I was wearing the sluttiest lingerie ever made.
No one had ever looked at me like that, not even my own husband.
“Where are we going?”
I hadn’t thought about it once. I’d been thinking about him all day, running my fingers through that dark hair and kissing that hard mouth. “I liked that place close to the gallery.”
“You had a salad.”
I smirked. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
He didn’t smile at the taunt. His eyes remained as hard as ever. “I never let anything go.” Without taking his eyes off me, he wrapped his big hand around mine, and he gently pulled me out the door to his Range Rover.
He pulled onto the road, and like last time, his hand went to my thigh, his fingers sliding all the way until he could touch my black thong underneath. His hand was so big it took up my entire thigh, and it made me wonder how big the rest of him was.
With one hand on the wheel and the lights striking his dark eyes, he looked sexy as hell driving us to dinner, commanding the road with confidence and calm, not caring about the traffic or the asshole who’d run the red light.
“I’m surprised you don’t have people drive you around.” Sometimes Bolton had men pick us up and transfer us elsewhere. Theo had had one of his men drive me home on our first night together, but I’d never seen him be driven anywhere.
“My men don’t need to know where I am every minute of the day.”
“So, you don’t trust them?”
“I don’t trust anybody.”
I looked down at his hand and saw the tendons pop across his hand and connect to his knuckles. There were little scars in the skin, like he’d been cut with a couple knives and the wounds had healed over long ago. I had one person in my life I trusted…until he asked to break our marriage vows. I could appreciate his honesty—or wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t given him my blessing.
Theo parked the Range Rover, and then we entered the restaurant. We were given the same table as last time, and just like last time, no one came over until he motioned for them to.
He ordered a scotch and let me order whatever I wanted.
“I’ll take the Bordeaux—Barsetti Vineyards.”
The waiter walked away.
He sat with one arm resting on the table, his shirt tight on his muscular arm. It was a cold winter night, so I’d worn my coat, but he was so muscular that he was probably hot, even when the temperature was in the forties.
He looked out the window for a moment, and when he caught my stare, he shifted his gaze to me.
“Why do the waiters wait for you to signal to them?”
“Because this is my restaurant.”
“Oh…” Good thing I’d only given compliments. “Do you like to cook?”
“I don’t know shit about food. I just bought a couple places to wash my money…among other things.”
I wondered what those other things were. “I’m glad we came back so I could try something else.”
The waiter returned with the drinks. He poured me a glass of wine and left the bottle behind.
“You like their wine?” He glanced at the bottle between us.
“I love it. Why?”
“Do you know the Barsetti Family?”
“No. Do you?”
“I know Crow. He’s the one who started the winery. Bought it to wash his money.”
“Whatever the reason he bought it, I love it.” I picked up the glass and took a drink.
“I like that about you.”
“That I like wine?”
“That you know my world.”
“I wouldn’t say I know it…” Just seen it indirectly, at dinners and galas, late nights with Bolton’s men.
“But you’re aware of it—and unafraid of it.”
I had no reason to be afraid of it. Bolton’s immoral work never affected my life. He hid his trail well, so it never came back to me. He had several different names, so our marriage license was tied to one of those aliases. Our properties had been bought under other names and identities. I wasn’t sure how he kept track of all of it. “What do most women think when you tell them?”
“I don’t.”
“Then how do you meet them?”
“I pay them.” He grabbed his scotch and took a drink.
“You sleep with prostitutes?”
“Escorts. There’s a big difference.”
“There is?”
“An escort is an exceptionally beautiful woman who charges a fortune for her time. Her livelihood is dependent on her health—so they’re clean. It’s one of the things you’re paying for.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be concerned that he openly paid for sex…or respect his honesty about it.
“That bothers you.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I can tell it does. But I’m not going to lie about it.”
“Are those the only kinds of women you sleep with?”
“No. I meet women when I’m out. In a bar. At an event. Wherever.”
“And it doesn’t bother them that you pay for sex?”
He stared at me across the table, not showing his annoyance even though he must have felt it. “Those are one-night fucks. Not much talking going on. I always wear a condom, so where my dick has been before them is none of their concern.”
I continued to stare at him, picturing him throwing a wad of bills at a woman in a hotel room. “So, you don’t have relationships?”
His answer was immediate. “No.”
“When was the last time you were in one?”
He grabbed his glass and took another drink. “This feels like an interrogation.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I just…want to know you more.” Neither one of us had expected to spend so much time together, so all the basic and inconsequential information had already been discovered. That left the important stuff, the deep stuff.
“Have long have you been married?”
“I said I didn’t want to talk about him.”
“And I didn’t ask about him.”
I knew if I wanted him to answer my question, I had to answer his. He was a master of conversation, controlling the temperature because he was the thermostat. “Two years. We’ve been together for three.”
He didn’t react. Didn’t voice the thought that was probably in his head—that you shouldn’t want an open marriage after just two years of matrimony. Whatever he thought, he kept it to himself. “I was in a relationship ten years ago.” He gestured to the waiter who’d been standing on the other side of the room waiting for the signal. Theo clearly wanted to change the subject because he looked at his menu. “Chicken marsala.”
I hadn’t looked at the menu, but I found something at a quick glance. “I’ll do the cheese ravioli with red sauce.”
The waiter took the menus and walked away.
I didn’t press Theo on the topic. It had red tape all over it. “I can tell you don’t want to talk about it, so I won’t pry. But if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”
His fingers rested on his glass, and his eyes shifted to look at me.
I froze in his stare, feeling stuck in place by his rigidness.
“I don’t ever want to talk about it.”
Over the course of our dates, I’d gotten to know him better, but I still felt like I didn’t know him at all. However, I did see the pain in his stare, that whatever happened to him was more than a painful breakup. But I would probably never know more. “That’s okay.”
The hardness in his eyes softened slightly, seemingly touched by the way I backed off. He hadn’t interrogated me about my marriage, didn’t persecute me for the choices I’d made—the choices that I’d allowed my husband to make. I wanted to give him the same courtesy. There were things we wanted to know about each other, but we would have to settle for keeping our secrets.
“What do you think?”
I’d finished most of my dish, a couple ravioli left on the plate. “A lot better than that salad.”
He gave a slight smirk, and his face was so much more handsome when he did that.
“What about yours?”
“I’m not picky. I’ll eat anything.”
“Then I should cook for you sometime. It’ll be nice not to have any pressure.”
He wiped away a speck of sauce from the corner of his mouth before returning the linen to his lap. His plate was nearly empty, with the exception of a few mushrooms that were left behind. He washed it down with a drink from his second scotch. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” I braced for whatever he wanted to know, but I was so lost in those dark eyes that it was hard to be scared. I never knew brown eyes could be so damn pretty. They had a darkness to them…but also a warmth.
“What did you do after your father died?”
That wasn’t a question I’d expected. Figured it would have something to do with my marriage. “That was a hard time in my life. I stopped my classes, slept around a lot because I felt alone. When I lost my home…I lost myself.”
“Why did you lose your home?”
“Couldn’t make the mortgage, so it was repossessed by the bank.” I took the possessions that mattered most but lost the rest. “Slept on a friend’s couch for a while. The years after that were one struggle after another. Tried to make it as an artist, but I was just broke and hungry. My dad had a life insurance policy, but the company didn’t honor it because he killed himself. I don’t think he’d anticipated that.”
He didn’t make another negative comment about my father. He seemed to have let that go.
“I got a job at the gallery and finally got my own apartment. Then I met my husband shortly after, got married, and moved in to his place.” All the wealth I had came from him. He elevated me from rags to riches. I used to consider myself lucky to marry for love, and the money was just a perk. But the wealth did drastically change my life. I never worried about money or bills or car repairs. All the money I earned at the gallery was just extra spending money that I didn’t need. I worked a job because I wanted to, not because I had to, and that was the ultimate sign of privilege.
Theo listened to every word I said. His eyes didn’t glaze over like he’d lost interest. He was with me in every moment, in every word I spoke, entranced by the mundane mediocrity of my life. “The death of your father was the most defining moment of your life…”
My eyes locked on his.
“We all have moments like that. If that moment hadn’t happened or if it’d been different…what else would have been different?”
I couldn’t imagine how different my life would have been. I probably would have lived with my dad for a long time, not because I needed to, but because I wouldn’t have wanted to leave him alone until he was ready to be on his own. Or maybe I wouldn’t have left at all because I enjoyed spending time with him. There wouldn’t be nearly as many notches on my bedpost. Wouldn’t be so many scars on my heart. “What’s your moment?”
His eyes shifted slightly.
“The moment that changed your life.”
He considered the question for a long time, letting the silence hang heavy between us. “I have more than one.” His big arms crossed over his chest. “The first was when I lost the family business to a fire…and had nothing left. I needed money, and I didn’t care how I earned it. If that hadn’t happened, I probably wouldn’t be who I am now.”
“And the other moment?”
All he did was give a slight shake of his head. “That one…dies with me.”
Theo motioned for the tab, and it was brought to him instantly because it’d been sitting in the front pocket of the waiter’s apron. Theo opened the folder and dropped a wad of cash inside.
“I want to pay for this one.”
He closed the folder and stared at me.
“You’re one of those guys who insists on paying for everything?”
“You mean a man?” he asked quietly. “Yes, I am.” He left the folder at the edge for the waiter to take.
“Why are you paying if you own the place?”
“Just easier this way. Bookkeeping purposes.”
“Well, thank you for dinner…again.”
He grabbed his scotch and took a drink.
“Wow, baby. Look who it is.”
I turned to the man who approached our table, a six-foot-something fine piece of man with a nice smile. A woman was on his arm in a skintight black dress. She wore a wedding ring on her left hand, and she smiled at me.
Theo released a quiet sigh.
The man moved to Theo and gripped him by the shoulder. “A very nice surprise.” He looked at me then reached his hand forward. “Axel—Theo’s brother. And this fine piece of ass right here is my wife, Scarlett.”
Her cheeks flushed deep red, and she quickly rolled her eyes. “Nice to meet you.” She extended her hand to shake mine.
“You too,” I said. “I’m Astrid.”
Axel turned to the waiter. “Pull up two chairs. We’ll be joining them?—”
“We were just leaving,” Theo said, giving him that don’t-fuck-with-me look.
“Then we’ll have a drink together.” When the waiter brought a chair, Axel positioned it so his wife could sit down first. Then he took the other seat the waiter brought, closest to Theo.
Theo stared at him.
Axel stared back, a full grin on his face. “So…how do you know each other?”
“Axel.” Scarlett moved her hand to his thigh. “Give it a rest.”
“Listen to your wife,” Theo said coldly.
“I only listen to my wife when she tells me how to fuck her.” Axel gestured to the waiter to get his attention. “I’ll have a scotch. My wife will have a Bordeaux.” He looked at me next. “You’re a scotch drinker too.”
“On occasion,” I said. “Not like Theo.”
“Sounds like you know Theo pretty well, then.” He looked at Theo and gave him a knowing look.
“It’s been a long time since I hit you,” Theo said. “I’d rather not break that streak.”
Axel seemed undeterred because he grinned. “It’ll be worth it.”
I looked at Theo. “I didn’t realize you had another brother.”
Axel looked at Theo again, his eyes narrowing like he’d discovered something else.
“Yes,” Theo said. “But not for long…”
“You don’t look alike.” Theo had dark hair and dark eyes, whereas Axel was a dirty-blond with blue eyes. They were both tall and muscular men, men who could have any woman they wanted. I could see why Axel wanted his wife Scarlett because she really was a fine piece of ass, but me…not so much.
“Adopted brothers,” Axel said. “Known each other a long time.”
“Astrid,” Scarlett said. “What do you do for a living?” It seemed like she was trying to get the heat off Theo.
“I work at an art gallery. I acquire pieces from clients who have estate sales, old paintings that come back on the market to find a new home. I work with modern artists as well, local ones in Tuscany. And then I have clients who hire me to fill certain spaces of their home with artwork.”
The waiter brought their drinks, and Axel took a drink as he continued to watch me.
“That’s fascinating,” Scarlett said.
“And she’s also an artist herself,” Theo said, looking at me.
“Oh really?” Scarlett said. “What kind of art do you make?”
“Theo is being generous,” I said quickly, feeling flustered by the attention. “I’ve always wanted to be an artist, but I haven’t made it there yet. I paint my paintings and then never let them see the light of day.”
“Why?” Axel asked.
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t think they’re good enough. I stare art in the face all day, every day, and mine don’t really match what I see.”
“The artwork I chose didn’t match anything else in your gallery,” Theo said. “And I think they’re perfect. Perhaps yours are perfect too, waiting to sit over someone else’s mantel for ten years. At some point, you have to grow a spine, sweetheart.”
Axel turned to look at Theo again, covering his grin by taking a drink.
“So that’s how you know each other?” Scarlett asked. “You visited her gallery?” She asked the question as she looked at Theo.
“I needed something for the study, and George arranged it,” Theo said.
“But you physically went down there and looked at art?” Axel asked incredulously. “You?”
Theo gave him that cold look again.
Axel smirked then took a drink.
When Theo had said he never took other women to dinner, I hadn’t been sure if it was just a line to make me feel special, but judging by the way his brother reacted to our date, it was the complete truth.
“I apologize for my husband,” Scarlett said. “He just likes to start shit.”
Axel moved his hand to her thigh, way up her dress in the middle of the restaurant, and leaned into her. “Come on, baby. You know you like it.” He pressed a kiss to her neck and then another, to the point where she had to push him off.
“We don’t get out much,” she said. “If you can’t tell.”
“Why?” I asked.
“We’ve got two babies at home,” Axel said. “They’re with the nanny tonight. We’ll have dinner, go back to a nice hotel and fuck, and then?—”
“Axel,” she snapped. “Stop talking.”
“Please,” Theo said.
Axel smirked and took another drink of his scotch.
Theo rose from his chair. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Before we catch the live show.”
I rose from the chair and looked at Axel and Scarlett. “It was lovely to meet you both. Enjoy your dinner…and your fuck-a-thon afterward.”
Scarlett released a chuckle.
Axel was about to take a drink, but he set down the glass as he released a laugh. “I like her, Theo.”
Theo ignored him as his hand moved to my lower back, and he guided me out of the restaurant. He didn’t talk about his brother and sister-in-law as we headed back to his Range Rover. The drive was spent in silence, and his hand didn’t move to my thigh like it normally did. He seemed annoyed by the unexpected guests at our dinner table, even though they seemed nice enough to me.
We entered his bedroom minutes later, the primary suite the same size as most apartments. It even had its own dining table behind the sitting area, the ceiling ten feet high, curtains drawn closed over all the windows.
He went straight to the bar like always and made two drinks without asking what I wanted. Then he walked into the room that had the four-poster bed, probably to change into his signature sweatpants and nothing else but a bare chest.
I sat on the couch and looked at the glass he’d left for me. I’d been nervous every time I’d come over here, but I was a lot less nervous tonight.
He came out a moment later, black sweatpants on his narrow waist, dark ink visible on his tanned skin. Every time he stepped into the room, he brought a presence so profound it filled the room with smoke—because he was the fire. He sat on the couch, leaving an open space between us because he never crossed the boundary I never had to put up.
“I liked them.”
“Really?” he asked. “Because I don’t. Well, I like Scarlett. That piece of shit…not so much.”
“What did he do?”
He grabbed his glass and shook the ice inside. “Just being a dick.”
My eyebrow cocked. “Were we at the same table?”
“Trust me.” He took a big drink and set the glass on the coffee table. “I don’t want to talk about them anymore.” He sat forward with his elbows on his thighs, his flattened palms gently sliding back and forth. His muscular back was like the trunk of a mighty oak. After a stare at his drink, he turned to look at me.
I was paralyzed by that stare, the darkness of his eyes and their shadowed depth. He touched me without crossing the divide between us. He made me hot without drawing close. Made my lips ache without being kissed.
For the first time, I forgot I was married.
I had a connection with this man. It had started off slowly, with the roots puncturing the soil, but every time I saw him, those roots dug deeper, reaching far down, away from the surface.
He hadn’t blinked since his gaze locked on mine. “If you aren’t ready, then leave. Because if you stay…” He gave a slight shake of his head and never finished the sentence. His stare hardened, hinting at the inferno that was about to erupt from his chest.
Bumps formed on my arms as if a draft had entered the room. A tightness formed in my stomach. The trepidation was still there, but the excitement had built so much over the last few weeks that it triumphed over everything else I felt. It gave me a jolt of confidence that I rarely felt. “Get over here.”
His stare immediately hardened as all the impressive muscles of his body flexed in desire. His hand reached to the back of my calf, and then he tugged me, so strong that my hips rolled and the back of my head dropped to the seat of the couch. He moved on top of me, one of his big hands diving underneath my dress to feel my hip and the lace of my panties. This mountain of a man blocked the sun as he rose over me, tugging my dress up my body, forcing it up until my tits were revealed, the nipples taped down.
Instead of kissing my aching lips, he looked down at my body as he slid one of his hands up my stomach to explore me, and he released the sexiest moan at the sight of me, making me feel desirable rather than ordinary, like I was worth the price of the other girls he paid for.
He ripped the tape off one nipple without any gentleness.
I winced when it tugged hard on my skin.
He did the same with the other, ripping just as hard. Then he dipped his mouth to the valley between my tits and kissed me there, breathed in my scent. One of his big hands squeezed my tit as he sucked the nipple as hard as he’d ripped off the tape.
My hand dug into his short hair, and I felt my hips lift to push my body farther into his mouth. His touch brought my body out of its dormancy and set it on fire. When Bolton and I fucked, that was all it was. No foreplay. Just our naked bodies coming together before we raced to the end. But Theo stopped to treasure my body, to appreciate it and memorize it, to lavish it with kisses and touches.
He moved down and played with the lace of my panties, kissing the skin over my hips and running his tongue just above the top of my waistband.
I closed my eyes and dug my nails into his shoulders. God, they were so thick and strong, like pieces of concrete on either side of his neck.
His thumb hooked into the lace of my thong, and he tugged it down, getting it over each hip and then over my ass. He grabbed my ankles and forced my knees to bend, to pin my legs as deep into my body as my flexibility would allow. He pulled the thong up and over my feet before his big hands pushed down on my thighs, and he pressed his face right between my legs.
And then breathed.
I stiffened when I felt his face between my legs, felt the air from his breaths over my folds and my opening. Bumps formed on my arms, and my nipples sharpened like knives. My ankles rested over his shoulders at the back of his neck. I was frozen to the spot, feeling him smelling me like a rose.
Then his mouth kissed me, a hard kiss that would have bruised my mouth. It started off slow and purposeful, and then he added his tongue to the lineup and I was a fucking mess. I lay there and squeezed his head with my thighs, my ankles batting at his shoulders. My breaths came out as pants, and the tension in my stomach made the muscles cramp. It was so damn good, the best kiss my girl had ever experienced.
I already knew he was going to make me come. “Theo…”
He sucked me hard in his mouth, sucked my folds and my nub and gave me a gentle bite before his tongue swirled with the pressure of an iron fist. It was a testament to his experience, because a man didn’t eat pussy like this without it. He knew exactly what I would like, what would make me come in just a few minutes.
I expected him to stop, to make sure I wouldn’t say no when he tried to fuck me, but he followed through and pushed me over the edge, causing my hips to buck against his face as the tears sprang to my eyes.
My fingers tugged on his hair as I shoved my pussy at him, fucking his face without an ounce of shame. “Jesus…Theo.” The wave I rode was long and high, building to a beautiful crescendo before I slowly rolled back down the hill.
He gave me a final kiss before he lifted himself up, his lips shining like he was wearing lip gloss. “You’ve got a nice pussy, sweetheart.” He moved over me, his heavy body making the cushions shift under his weight.
My thighs immediately squeezed his torso, and my ankles locked together at his back as I brought him close, desperate to kiss those lips that made me feel so damn good. My hand cupped his face as I kissed him for the first time, tasting myself on his mouth, my fingers digging into his hair as I felt another burst of sparks.
His kisses started off slow and purposeful like they did before, and he took the moment to enjoy my kiss rather than blow right through it. His hand slowly slid up the back of my neck before he fisted my hair into a ball. He’d barely touched me on our dates, but once permission had been granted, he showed how physical and affectionate he was. He loved to touch me everywhere, loved to feel every piece of me instead of just the main attractions. He was a thorough lover.
He ground his hips into me, to make me feel him.
To feel that big fucking dick.
Jesus Christ.
He wasn’t inside me, but my lips quivered like he was stretching me wide apart. It’d been a long time since I’d been turned on like this. I’d been happy with my sex life with Bolton before he’d asked to open our marriage to other people, but I hadn’t felt like this…ever.
Theo moved his kiss to the corner of my mouth and then my jawline. He made his way down my neck and smothered me with his kisses as he tugged his sweatpants down to unleash his super dick.
He pulled away to tug them down to his thighs then fished into his pocket to pull out a foil packet.
I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at that monster cock. “Uh, whoa…”
He didn’t grin at the compliment and ripped the top of the foil packet.
I suddenly realized what would happen next, and that realization made me go ice-cold. The guilt returned to the surface as I confronted what I was about to do. I’d kissed this man. I’d let this man fuck me with his mouth. But once that monster cock was inside me, it would really seal the deal.
My hand reached for his wrist before he could roll the condom down his length.
His eyes found mine, and instead of disappointment, there was just a ruthless stare.
I sat up and moved to my knees. “My turn.” My hand gently pushed him in the chest and forced him back.
He lay back, his head propped up on the edge of the couch, looking like the hunkiest piece of man meat ever.
Just as he did with me, I kissed his body, worshipped his hardness, the way his muscles separated over his hard frame. There was salt on my tongue from his sweat, and I kissed the tattoos that marked his skin.
I moved down, getting closer to the big dick that lay against his stomach, a fat vein up the middle, perfectly groomed balls at the bottom. He was a different beast of man, more animal than human.
I came closer to the tip but avoided it, kissing and licking everywhere but the place he wanted me most.
His breathing picked up slowly, that big chest rising and falling at a gradual speed. His dark eyes hardened with impatience.
I decided to start at the bottom instead of the top. I pressed my soft lips to his balls, and the gentle contact unleashed the sexiest moan from his throat. A deep breath accompanied it, his mountain of a chest filling with the air he pulled in.
I kissed him again and again then let my tongue swipe the soft skin. It started off slow before I soaked his flesh with my tongue, sucking one side entirely into my mouth as I gently rolled it over my tongue.
He seemed to like it.
When I had him breathing hard, I moved up and dragged my tongue up the vein of his rock-hard dick.
That elicited another moan from him, a deeper one than the others, sounding more like a bear than a man.
I made it to the tip then pressed a kiss to the head, getting the precome on my tongue.
That was when his hand dug deep into my hair, and he grabbed himself by the base. His impatience took over, and he guided my mouth down his dick, forcing me down until there was no more throat for his length.
I wanted to gag right away, but I bottled the impulse deep inside.
“Slow.” He guided me by the hair the way he liked, still holding his base for me like some kind of gentleman. “Just like that, sweetheart.”
I flattened my tongue and kept going, feeling like a horse that was guided by the reins, feeling his cock push inside over and over, blocking my airway and forcing me to abstain from oxygen.
He’d been anxious to fuck me just a minute ago, but he seemed to want to stretch this out and make it last as long as possible, to put me to work and get the most out of me like a laborer on the clock.
My jaw ached because of how far open my mouth had to remain, and the back of my neck was already sore from lifting my head over such a great obstacle.
His eyes watched me the entire time, hard like his dick, dark like the night outside the windows.
When I went down, he forced me down farther, wanting me to take more than I could. Even when I struggled, he forced me to do it, like he got off on the struggle. Tears sprang into my eyes because it was hard to breathe and hard not to choke, but he didn’t give a damn.
He breathed harder as he watched me work, the cords of his veins tight from the way he flexed his whole body. Then he guided my head down faster, increasing the pace slowly until he had me going at breakneck speed.
My eyes watered until tears formed. I gasped between breaths, sucking in whatever air I could while it was available.
“Does my dick make you cry, sweetheart?” He started to thrust from below, slamming his dick into the back of my throat. Air supply became more limited and the need to gag increased, but my tongue remained flat to take that big cock like he demanded. My body wanted the strain to end, but I’d never been more aroused giving head before. My knees could be on cold concrete and I could sweat in the heat of a furnace, but I would still enjoy every second of making this man come in my mouth.
His face flushed red with desire. The skin over his chest became blotted with different spots of red. All the cords in his hands and neck popped like they were about to burst. His jaw clenched as his breathing turned ragged.
Then he released a loud moan as he finished, his fingers tightening in my hair and keeping me in place, his dick fully in my mouth so I wouldn’t miss a drop. The heat and the substance came a second later, dumping into my throat and making it impossible to breathe.
“Attagirl,” he said as he filled me.
When the moment passed, his fingers loosened on my hair so I could finally be free.
I sat up and straightened, but I didn’t get far before he grabbed me by the neck. His thumb swiped up over the bottom of my lip as he stared at me. “Show me.”
I hesitated before I stuck out my tongue, showing that I’d already swallowed it.
He released me when he got what he wanted. He left the couch, buck naked because his sweatpants were left on the floor, and walked into the bathroom to clean himself up.
I sat there, naked on his couch with my dress still bunched up above my tits. I pulled it down over my body, my hard nipples visible through the thin material now that the tape was missing. My black thong was on the floor where Theo had left it. I stared at it for a moment before I pulled it back on over my heels…because I’d never taken them off.
I was dead tired and could fall asleep right on this couch, but I needed to get home. I left the couch and grabbed my purse.
Theo came back into the room in a pair of black boxers, six and a half feet of pure man. His dark eyes took me in as he drew closer. “Next time you come over here, you’re going to get fucked.” He almost looked angry, like the nice blow job that had made me cry wasn’t good enough. “You’ve been warned.”