CHAPTER 50 All Of The Galas
August 4, 2012
Dad: Hey, kiddo.
Dad: A big potential client of mine is hosting a fundraising gala next Saturday.
Dad:August 11.
Dad: I bought a table.
Dad: I would love for you and William to come.
Dad: The theme is “Starry Night Soirée for Sustainable Futures.”
Dad: The dress code is black tie. Women are expected
to wear something shiny with a touch of eco-friendliness
if that makes sense.
Dad: If you have any questions, ask Miss Patty.
Dad:She should have all the details.
Dad:Let me know if you guys can make it.
“We said no phones,” William warned, confiscating my phone. We were catching up on the 7th season of The Office. William was obsessed, and I ended up loving it, too. The 8th season Blu-Ray was set to release within a month, and we wanted to be ready for it. Not that we would have any time to watch it since he was leaving soon, but we liked to live in the moment and pretend we wouldn’t spend most of what was left of the year apart.
“I’m never on my phone!” I complained, trying to take my phone back with no luck. “But it wouldn’t stop buzzing. My dad loves to send multiple mini texts instead of writing everything down in a single go. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
William paused the episode but hauled me closer to him. We were a tangled mess in his bed and decided to stay in for the rest of the day. We had went out with Joel, Lily, Nina, Liam, Cecile, and Tobias the night before to a new exclusive club and stayed up later than we thought we would. Tobias and Cecile had been officially dating since December, and everything was going great between them. He was even going to ask her to move in with him very soon.
William was nursing a mild hangover. All he wanted was to binge-watch The Office while I scratched his scalp, and in turn, he would cook us my favorite truffled mac and cheese for dinner.
“And?” he asked, moving to his side to look at me and supporting his head with his hand. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. He bought a table for a fundraising gala next Saturday, and he wanted to know if we would like to go with him,” I explained. “He says the organizer is a potential client, so I guess it’s important to him. But I know you leave on the 12th, and that’s probably not what you want to be doing on your last day in New York.”
“Mmm,” he said, nuzzling his head in the crook of my neck. “We could dress up and have some fun before I leave.”
“Fun?” I raised my brows in disbelief. “You act like you’ve never been to one of these things.”
“Oh, but I plan on having lots of fun afterward,” William ran a hand up my belly inside my oversized sweatshirt and didn’t stop until he found one of my breasts. He rubbed the already pebbled nipple between his fingers. “You know, once I get you tipsy with a few glasses of expensive champagne.”
I let out a breathy laugh. “You know champagne makes me horny.”
“You don’t say.” He pushed up my tank top to reveal my breasts and took my nipple in his mouth, swirling circles around it with his tongue. His other hand slid inside my biker shorts to find me soaked with my arousal. “Fuuuck.” His fingers played around with my folds, teasing me, denying me momentarily what I wanted, only to make me crave it even more.
“So … what do I … tell him?” My back arched as an offering against his bare torso, craving for skin to meet skin. The pleasure was rising, hot and quick in my lower belly, liquifying my limbs and stealing my breath away.
God, I would never get enough of him. Never get enough of this. He had me at his mercy. Always.
“Tell him,” he whispered, his mouth pressing slow, tender kisses on my chest as he moved two fingers inside me, making me cry out a little. “That you’ll get back to him after you’re done … convincing me.” A small smile tugged at his face, and his mouth moved on mine so fast I couldn’t tell him that, at this rate, I wasn’t sure who was doing the convincing. The kiss was desperate, and he took and took and took. And I let him. I’d always give him everything I had to give.
He broke off the kiss and regarded me with dark, hooded eyes for a few long seconds. His gaze was filled with adoration as he relished the effect his hands, his mouth, his long, thick fingers, and his entire fucking body had on me when the world faded to black, and only the two of us existed.
“Take this off.” He tugged on my bunched-up sweatshirt with his free hand. And I did. Pulled it over my head. Tossed it on the floor.
My hand rubbed against the length of him, straining against his waistband as the pleasure inside me built, and built, and built, making my entire chest ache with pure blissful ecstasy. I trembled. He knew I was close. Knew my body better than I did my own, and at his will, I came undone in his hand, my orgasm making my body go slack beneath him.
His hands yanked down my shorts and my panties with a single tug and he discarded them behind him. I pulled down on his waistband, and he helped himself out of his sweatpants.
“Kneel and hold on to the headboard.” His words were an unmistakable command, and nothing turned me on more than giving up all control and handing it over to him. All of it.
He thrust inside me in one single stroke and immediately started moving at a steady, relentless pace that didn’t allow me to draw in a breath. That felt so damn good it made my hands slip a little from the grip I hadn’t been able to maintain.
“Hold. On,” he rasped out, retreating as he said that, only to slam into me again. Harder. Faster. Deeper.
“Make me,” I challenged between panting breaths, glancing over my shoulder to toss the teasing words at him, making his control snap.
“Someone’s a bit mouthy today.” He pressed his lips behind my ear, not giving me a single break to even catch up on the missing breaths from taking him deeper and deeper with each greedy and possessive thrust. “Let go of that headboard, and you won’t be coming again.”
I knew better than to disobey one of his commands. But I loved getting him riled up with a little playful defiance. Loved to toy around with the consequences. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips, and he kept on taking, and I kept on giving. I twisted my neck to catch his mouth, and he kissed me as I held on to that headboard for dear life.
His movements became jerkier with the threat of his release, and I broke off the kiss, my body telling me I was about to find mine. My nails dug into the headboard’s soft fabric, and my mouth parted as pleasure took over my entire body, and wave after wave of unrestrained ecstasy rolled through me. He followed soon after me, his body shuddering as he rode his orgasm until the end.
“Let go,” he whispered in my ear, slowly moving out of me. I fell on the bed on my side, and he collapsed in front of me. My hand cupped his face, then brushed a damp strand of his soft golden hair away from his forehead.
“So, what’s the dress code?” he asked with a laugh, running a warm fingertip down my shoulder all the way to my hips.
“So, are you sold for the gala?” I asked with a giggle, his eyes clear, bright, and trained on me.
“After that?” He made a psh sound and kissed the edge of my mouth. “I’m sold for all of the galas.”