Chapter 59
CHAPTER 59
SPENCER
T he sight of her underneath me, her body laid bare and writhing in pleasure, was the most incredible view I’d ever been privileged to see. Her flushed cheeks, the way her eyes fluttered shut when I touched her just right, the soft sounds she made. All of it drove me wild.
Her chest heaved as my fingers continued their exploration, a slight sheen of sweat already evident on her skin. The room was filled with electricity.
“Spencer,” she breathed out again, making my name sound like a plea. It was sweet music to my ears.
Her hands scraped up my back, pulling me closer as if she couldn’t get enough of me. The sensation of her fingers digging into my skin sent a shiver down my spine, the sharp pleasure and pain feeding the desire roaring within me.
“You make me feel so good,” she moaned against my lips, her voice a husky whisper that echoed through the room.
Her admission intoxicated me, the effect like adding fuel to an already raging fire. Our eyes remained locked as I kissed down her jawline, tasting the sweetness of her skin, feeling her soft hair against my lips. Her body writhed beneath me in response to my touch, her breath catching. My lips trailed lower, moving over her collarbone. Her scent was intoxicating. I moved my fingers over the tight bud that had grown so responsive to my touch.
I brushed against it lightly, teasing the bundle of nerves with gentle circles while my free hand traced shapes on her flat stomach. The soft gasps that escaped her lips inflamed me further, made me crave more. Marlow’s legs parted wider for me, giving me better access. I dipped my head lower to capture a hardened nipple between my teeth, eliciting a moan from deep within her throat. She arched into the bite while my fingers delved deeper into her core.
Her hips bucked up against my touch. I slid in deeper, feeling the heat around my finger. Her body clenched around it. Marlow bit her lip to stifle another moan, but the small sound escaped her nonetheless. A wild rush of pleasure surged through me, and I ached with need. I relished in the sweet symphony she was playing just for me, the soft gasps and desperate whimpers. My cock twitched, desperate to be inside her.
“Spencer,” she whined, her eyes meeting mine in a smoky gaze. The arousal in them ignited a flame inside me that burned hotter with every passing second. Her nails raked down my back, leaving trails of passion on my skin.
“Yes?” I asked as I kept up my pace, letting her adjust to the rhythm of my fingers.
“I need you.” Her gaze held mine with utter desperation.
“Not yet,” I murmured. “Come for me.”
I wanted this woman so badly it hurt. I kissed her and felt her body tightening. Her fingers gripped my bicep as the climax slammed into her. I pulled away from her, watching as she rode through the orgasm. Her eyes rolled back, and her mouth opened in a soundless scream, her body arching as waves of pleasure washed over her. The sight of her in such ecstasy was the most breathtaking thing I’d ever seen. Her body convulsed, making every muscle clench and unclench in a dance of pure ecstasy.
Her ragged breaths filled the room, each one coming faster than the last as she rode out the wave of pleasure. She clenched around my fingers, her inner walls spasming with the force of her orgasm. I could feel each tremor, each spasm as it pulsed through her, the intense heat and wetness of her very core making it impossible for me to hold back any longer.
Her body collapsed, spent and quivering as the aftershocks continued to pulse through her system. Her chest was heaving, each breath coming out in short, gasping pants. I gently drew my fingers from her, coaxing a final shudder from her overstimulated body. I moved over the top of her, bracing myself above her on my forearms. Then I pushed inside her still clenching pussy, slick with her climax.
Her body welcomed me, enveloping me in a heat that was nearly unbearable. She gasped as I slowly pushed deeper into her, our bodies fitting together as if we were two halves of one whole. The room filled with the intoxicating smell of her arousal, of us.
Her eyes found mine again. The passion reflected there hit me hard. It made the pleasure ten times better. I lowered my head to capture her mouth with my own. The kiss was slow and passionate, our tongues dancing together in a familiar rhythm that only heightened the sweet agony between my thighs.
“Move,” she urged against my lips, her fingers digging into the muscles of my back. My hips snapped forward, each thrust more powerful than the last. The dull pain of her nails scratching my back only spurred me on, the animalistic part of me reveling in her passion.
Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me even closer as she met each of my movements with a roll of her own hips. The friction was unbearable, pleasure sparking along every nerve ending. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, pressing soft kisses to her heated skin between gasps for breath.
“Spencer, don’t stop,” she cried out, her voice breaking. “Never stop.”
She tightened around me once more, the telltale signs of her imminent climax spurring me on. Every whimper she let out, every desperate clutch of her fingers in my hair was a testament to how lost she was in the sensations I was giving her. It was a heady power to know I could make her feel like this. I was making her lose all control. It was the best ego booster in the world.
“Let go for me, Marlow,” I murmured against her skin, my teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh of her neck. Her entire body bucked under mine, as if electrified by my words. I could feel her unraveling beneath me, the spasms tearing through her stronger and hotter than before. It triggered something primal within me, the sight of her lost in ecstasy driving me toward my own climax. The feeling was powerful, it was consuming, it was everything.
“Spencer!” she cried as she shattered beneath me, her inner walls clenching around me as she rode out her second orgasm. Her body convulsed beneath mine, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.
The sight of her writhing beneath me and the feel of her body shuddering around me were too much. I buried myself deep within her one last time, a roar ripping from my throat as I reached my own climax. It pulsed through me in waves of pure, raw pleasure as I spilled inside her, marking her as mine in the most primal of ways.
Collapsing onto her, our hearts pounded in unison. Her fingers moved lazily through my hair, a soft sigh escaping her lips as we basked in the post-orgasmic glow. I had plenty of sex in my lifetime, but with her, it was different. It rocked me on so many different levels. It wasn’t just a matter of getting off. It was a total mind and body experience. I couldn’t get enough.
“I’m starving,” I said after a while.
“Me too. I can make us some breakfast.”
“Let’s go out,” I suggested instead.
“Sounds good to me.”
We cleaned up and dressed before heading out. As we walked down the busy street, hand in hand, calm began to return. It was a lazy Sunday morning. The usual businessfolk were absent and now the streets were teeming with tourists and locals all enjoying their days off. Christmas decorations were already up. Store owners and managers were busy transforming their businesses for the holidays.
As we passed a magazine stand, something caught my eye. I did a double take and stopped short, pulling Marlow to a halt. There, on the cover of a prominent business magazine, was Marlow’s face, looking confident and powerful. “Look at this,” I said, grabbing a copy off the rack.
Marlow’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my gosh, I completely forgot that was running today!” She tried to peer over my shoulder.
“Hold on,” I said playfully, holding the magazine just out of her reach. “Let’s save it for breakfast.”
I quickly paid for it, and we continued to the café. We found a cozy corner table, turning our cups over as a signal to get coffee. A server quickly approached. We ordered breakfast and sat back. The clinking of cutlery, the faint hum of conversation, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounded us. I was suddenly very hungry.
Marlow kept stealing glances at the magazine in my hand, her curiosity piqued. With a smirk, I finally handed it to her. She eagerly flipped open to the article. As she read aloud some of the positive highlights about her business acumen and strategies, I felt a surge of pride.
But as she continued, her expression shifted, a frown creasing her forehead. “Wait, what?” she murmured, her eyes scanning the page.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Despite her success, Marlow Graylan reflects on her past, including her divorce from Dakota, a relationship she described as both challenging and formative. She candidly admits that sometimes she misses the simplicity of her old life and wonders if she might have been happier back then.”
My stomach tightened as she continued. “She also mentioned her new position at Spencer Kane’s firm, referring to it as a ‘steppingstone’ on her path.”
I took the magazine from her, my eyes skimming over the words. I read and reread the parts where she praised Dakota and questioned her current happiness. Confusion and hurt washed over me. Why would she say those things?
“Marlow, what the hell?” I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief. “Did you really say all of this?”
Her eyes were wide with frustration and regret. “Spencer, half of that was supposed to be off the record. The interviewer and I were commiserating over our divorces. It’s all taken out of context. I don’t miss being married to Dakota. You know that. Sometimes I just miss the simplicity of that old life, before things got so complicated with my career.”
I could feel the anger bubbling up, a mix of old insecurities and fresh wounds. “So, what? You’re using my firm as a steppingstone? Like I’m just another phase in your grand plan?”
“No, it’s not like that at all,” she said, her voice desperate. “I was talking about how I’m always looking for ways to grow and evolve in my career. It wasn’t meant to diminish what we’re building together.”
Her words did little to soothe the turmoil inside me. Our plates were delivered, but I was no longer hungry. I picked up my fork and pushed around the crisp hashbrowns on my plate. The rest of breakfast was awkward and tense.
Marlow kept trying to explain, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal and doubt. She sensed my distance and finally stopped trying, her silence heavy with disappointment.
After we finished, Marlow looked at me, her eyes searching mine for any sign of understanding. “I have to go home,” she said softly. “I need to do laundry and get ready for the week ahead. Are you sure everything is okay?”
I forced a nod, not trusting myself to speak without letting my emotions spill over. “Why wouldn’t it be?” I replied, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears.
She gave me a long, searching look before nodding and standing up. We walked out of the café and I quickly hailed a cab for her.
She leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yep, see you tomorrow,” I said.
She got in the cab. I closed the door and watched the car pull away. I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of loss. The fallout with my parents was still fresh, and now this article had struck a nerve.
It made me feel like a means to an end, just like I did with my family. It was eroding the trust Marlow and I had built, making me question everything. I didn’t want to be a placeholder or a steppingstone.
Especially not for Marlow.