10. Rose
Rose
He rubs his hand over himself again, clearly enjoying the way I’m looking at him right now.
After the way he just made me come, there’s almost nothing in the world I won’t do if it means I can get him off, too.
He’s right—there’s a part of me that’s better off just switching my brain into a different mode entirely, giving over to the need that has pulsed between us since the moment I set foot in his house.
Hardly conventional, but sometimes you just have to take what the universe offers you.
Ilya unzips his pants slowly, pulling his cock into his hand; it’s the first time I’ve seen him close-up like this, and I can’t help but trail my tongue around my bottom lip in anticipation.
He is already glistening with a drop of pre-cum on his tip, and as he strokes his length a couple of times, I wonder if I’ll be able to take all of him at once.
“You still sure about this, Rose?” he asks, reaching down to slide his hand into my hair and draw my attention up him.
I nod. Intent on showing him just how certain I am, I part my lips and extend my tongue slightly, an invitation for him to do exactly what he wants to me.
He guides himself to my lips, letting his tip brush just lightly over my mouth before he slips the first couple of inches into me. I can taste the saltiness of his pre-cum, and I swirl my tongue around him the same way I did to his fingers a few moments earlier.
He lets out an appreciative grunt, palming my head to adjust the angle slightly, and I catch my breath before I go back in for another taste.
"That’s it," he groans. "Show me those pretty eyes while you’ve got my cock in your mouth, Rose."
I flick my gaze up to meet his, and he grins, that wolfish smile lighting up some darker side of him.
He flexes his hips forward slightly, thrusting a little further into my mouth, and I’m surprised at how easily I can take him.
I slip my tongue over the underside, feeling the ridge that runs up his length, massaging it as best I can with my mouth.
"Fuck, yes... just like that..."
He continues to move the first few inches of his cock into my mouth, not too deep, but enough that I can feel my lips stretch slightly to accommodate his impressive girth.
A rush of desire sparks between my legs again, and I clamp my thighs together, doing my best to contain it, not wanting to get distracted from the task at hand, no matter how tempting it might be.
I can feel him starting to swell between my lips already, and I wonder if that means he’s getting close.
Did fingering me like that turn him on that much?
I steal another look up at him to find his gaze fixed on me.
He draws back, letting his head rest on my lips for a moment, and I plant a playful kiss there just to see his reaction.
He curses under his breath and sinks himself back into my mouth again, and I work my way along his length, allowing him to guide me with his hand so that I can get him off just how he wants.
I listen as his breathing grows more ragged, and I slide one hand to his thigh to steady myself as I pick up the pace. I can feel the muscles there starting to grow tense, and I feel a sudden, ravenous urge to make him come, to push him over the edge into the same intense release he gave me.
"Jesus Christ, Rose," he pants as he watches me work his length frantically with my tongue and lips. "You’re going to make me come..."
Just a few seconds later, I seal my lips around his tip and feel his cock spasm between them as he finally tips over the edge into his release.
I don’t pull back, the warmth of his seed on my tongue a reward for giving him pleasure.
Our eyes meet as he finishes, and there is a deep crease in his brow where the tension has finally found a place to unleash.
I hold myself there for a few more moments, trailing my tongue around him to make sure that I have picked up every last drop, and draw back, planting one last kiss on his head before I lean back on my heels.
I can’t help but smile, feeling a little flushed from the exertion and the intense thrill of knowing that I got him off so easily.
It was one thing to feel him finish in me when we were on the plane together, another to do it right here in his office with nothing but my mouth.
He offers me a hand and guides me to my feet, pinning me against the door and trailing his mouth across my neck once more.
"You need to get some rest," he tells me firmly, even as his hands roam my body.
"You’re going to make that pretty difficult, touching me like that," I counter.
He draws back almost reluctantly, but he knows that he will not be able to convince me to leave unless he stops.
"Point taken," he mutters, and he tucks himself back into his pants once more, allowing me to readjust myself, too. I almost wish I hadn’t said anything to him—I don’t want this to stop, though I know he’s right.
I should be getting some rest. I have the baby to think about, on top of everything else, even if it’s hard to make sense of that right now.
"Goodnight, Rose," he says as he pushes open the door, gesturing for me to head back to my own room.
I bite my lip, searching for another reason to spend a little more time here. But I know I need to get the hell out of there already.
"Goodnight, Ilya."
And with that, I turn to head back to my room.
My bare feet on the wooden floor fill the room with a soft slapping sound, but my head is still ringing from everything that just happened.
Where does this leave us? Do we just pick up where we left off on the plane?
Or is this the kind of one-time thing that I would be better off forgetting ever happened?
I have no idea. But maybe, come morning, things will seem a little clearer.
Even if they’re more of a mess than they are right now.