Chapter 11 #2
He listened to the delicious, breathy moans falling constantly from her lips, drinking in the sound of her pleasure.
He leaned down, kissing her breasts, biting her jaw, capturing her open mouth in a filthy, tongue-deep kiss.
He opened his eyes, staring down at her face, watching the pure, unfiltered ecstasy taking over her features.
The absolute power he had over her sent a fresh surge of dominance through his entire body.
“Please,” Katherine begged, her fingernails digging into his broad shoulders, leaving half-moon indentations in his skin. “Harder, David. Give me more.”
A dark, incredibly pleased smile crossed his face.
He reached down and grabbed one of her long, tanned legs, lifting it completely off the bed and hooking her knee securely over his shoulder.
He marveled at how incredibly flexible and tight she was—a stark, vibrant, eager contrast to the cold, rigid distance Rosália had been giving him for months.
He drove into her with brutal, punishing strength. The wet, heavy sound of their bodies violently slapping together echoed loudly in the quiet hotel room. He fucked her faster and faster, his chest heaving, a sheen of sweat covering his muscular back as the inevitable climax rushed up to meet him.
With a harsh, guttural shout, David pulled his cock completely out of her soaking wet pussy at the very last possible second.
He hovered over her, his hips jerking uncontrollably as thick, hot ropes of his cum shot across her flat stomach and her breasts. He let out a long, shuddering breath, his head dropping forward as the euphoria crashed over him.
Before she could move, he reached out. Using his fingers, he aggressively smeared the hot, sticky fluid across her golden skin, thoroughly marking her as his possession.
Katherine lay back against the pillows, her chest heaving, a languid, incredibly satisfied smile on her face. She reached down, her fingers lightly tracing the length of his rapidly softening, wet cock.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Katherine murmured, her eyes dark with complete adoration. “I love your cock, David.”
David smirked, a vicious, triumphant pride swelling in his chest. He pushed himself up, resting his weight on his forearms. “That old man can’t fuck you the way you deserve, Kat.
He doesn’t know what to do with a body like this.
” He paused, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as a possessive, territorial urge flared. “Are you still letting him fuck you?”
“God, no,” Katherine said, not missing a single beat. She stroked his chest, her eyes wide and innocent. “I haven’t let him touch me. Do you still sleep with Rosália?”
David scoffed, entirely dismissing the woman sleeping ten floors above them. “Obviously not. Why the hell would I waste my time with her when I have a hot, vibrant woman right here? With a body that’s firm, flexible, and completely tight whenever I want it?”
Katherine’s smile widened, blooming with sheer, validated vanity. She leaned up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulled him down into a deep, hungry kiss.
Her hips shifted beneath him, grinding her slick center against his crotch.
Almost instantly, David felt the familiar, heavy rush of blood as his cock began to harden against her thigh.
He knew he was playing with fire. He knew he had been gone for nearly forty-five minutes and needed to get back to the penthouse before Rosália woke up in an empty bed.
But the temptation was too potent. The ego trip was too entirely intoxicating.
Without resisting the forbidden urge, David grabbed her hips, rolling her over until she was straddling his lap.
“Ride it,” he ordered darkly, his hands gripping her bare waist as he prepared to fuck her all over again.
The scalding hot water of the fourth-floor hotel shower had done absolutely nothing to wash away the adrenaline pumping fiercely through David’s veins.
He rode the private elevator back up to the penthouse level in a haze of arrogant, illicit euphoria.
His skin still hummed from the punishing heat of the water and the desperate, sloppy friction of Katherine sinking to her wet knees on the shower floor.
She had been ruthless, her mouth sliding hungrily over him, swallowing his groans as thick steam filled the small, glass-enclosed space.
The forbidden rush of taking her right there—scrubbing the scent of their sex off their bodies only to immediately dirty themselves all over again—was an intoxicating high David had never experienced in his pristine, meticulously curated marriage.
When the silver doors slid open on the top floor, David stepped out feeling like an untouchable god. He ran a hand through his damp, dark hair, moving down the silent, heavily carpeted corridor with the practiced, predatory grace of a man who had just gotten away with murder.
He swiped his keycard. The heavy mahogany door of his suite clicked open, and he slipped inside, easing the door shut so the latch wouldn’t make a sound.
The penthouse was suffocatingly dark and perfectly quiet, save for the low, mechanical hum of the central air conditioning.
David let out a slow, satisfied breath as he crossed the plush carpet toward the master bedroom. His eyes adjusted to the deep shadows. He expected to see exactly what he had left behind: the soft, familiar, obedient curve of his wife’s body buried deep under the heavy silk duvet.
But as he reached the edge of the massive king-sized mattress, the arrogant smirk violently dropped off his face.
The duvet was thrown back in a messy, careless heap. The crisp white sheets were exposed to the cool air.
The bed was completely, terrifyingly empty.
David froze. A cold, creeping dread began to uncoil in the pit of his stomach, wrapping its icy fingers tightly around his throat.
“Rose?” he whispered. The word sounded harsh and entirely too loud in the absolute, dead silence of the room.
No answer.
He moved quickly, his pulse picking up a frantic, uneven rhythm. He pushed open the frosted glass door of the massive en-suite bathroom. Pitch black. He strode across the room and ripped back the heavy velvet curtains, unlocking the sliding glass doors to check the private terrace.
Empty. Only the cold ocean wind greeted him.
The air was suddenly sucked completely out of the suite. A sickening, visceral panic seized his chest. He rushed back to the bed, dropping to his knees to look under the mattress, checking the walk-in closet, his sophisticated veneer completely shattering.
Where the hell was she?
His hands were visibly shaking as he scrambled across the mattress, grabbing his burner phone from where he had hidden it beneath his pillow. He quickly dialed Rosália’s number, holding his breath as he pressed the speaker to his ear, begging for the line to connect.
Ring.
A sudden, sharp vibration shattered the quiet of the bedroom.
Ring.
David’s head snapped toward the opposite side of the bed. A bright, glaring white square of light illuminated the mahogany nightstand. Rosália’s cell phone was sitting right there, buzzing aggressively against the wood, mocking him.
She had left it behind.
The blood drained entirely from David’s face. She hadn’t just gone down to the lobby for a late-night tea while scrolling through her emails. She had left her phone. It was deliberate. It was a panicked, sudden departure.
His breathing turned ragged. He immediately ended the call and dialed Katherine’s number, his thumb pressing the screen so hard it almost cracked.
She picked up on the second ring, her voice thick, languid, and dripping with lazy satisfaction. “Miss me already, David?”
“Is Sean in your suite?” David demanded. His voice was a harsh, terrified rasp that completely shattered her post-coital bliss.
“What?” Katherine mumbled, entirely confused. “David, you’re being paranoid. I told you, he’s a heavy sleeper—”
“Check right fucking now, Katherine!” David hissed, the panic clawing violently up his throat, choking him. “Check the bed!”
He heard a sharp intake of breath over the line, followed by the rustle of heavy hotel sheets and the frantic padding of bare feet against hardwood.
A long, agonizing silence stretched between them.
It pulled David’s nerves entirely taut, stretching them until he thought he might physically snap in half.
He squeezed his eyes shut, a cold sweat breaking across his forehead.
Please let the old man be asleep, he prayed desperately to a God he didn’t believe in. Please.
When Katherine finally spoke again, her voice trembled so violently it was barely recognizable. The arrogant confidence had been entirely stripped away.
“David...” she whispered, a raw, terrifying tremor in her tone. “He’s not here. The bed is completely cold. He’s been gone for a while.”
The world violently tilted on its axis. The floor seemed to drop out from beneath David’s feet.
“Rosália is gone too,” David ground out, his lungs burning as he dragged in oxygen.
“What? What do you mean she’s gone?” Katherine’s voice pitched up into a shrill, hysterical squeak. “David, where are they? Are they together? Did he find out—oh my god, David, what if he knows?”
David didn’t wait to hear the rest of her spiraling, pathetic breakdown. He aggressively tapped the red button, ending the call, and threw the burner phone onto the mattress as if it had burned him.
He turned and practically ran out of the suite.
He hit the elevator button repeatedly, pounding his fist against the silver metal, his jaw locked so tight his teeth ached.
When the doors opened on the ground floor, he marched straight to the reception desk.
The polished, charismatic lawyer was entirely gone, replaced by a frantic, sweating, wild-eyed man.