Chapter 7 #2
As Boston and I rode back to his hotel, we talked more about ourselves.
The people we were outside of our work. Besides him playing the piano, I learned that he liked to play golf.
According to him, he was good at it. I also learned that he got up at four in the morning, no matter the day, to work out.
He informed me that he liked his coffee with creamer and two cubes of sugar.
We shared information on our favorite colors, foods—all that basic shit.
When we arrived at his suite, we went out on the balcony to smoke.
“This view is phenomenal,” I said as I blew smoke out.
“It is. I always stay here when I come, no matter if it’s for one day or one week.” Boston took the Backwood from my hand when I stretched mine out.
I stared at the side of his face as he inhaled then blew the smoke out. I had to shift in my seat because, to me, just him blowing smoke was sexy. The moonlight bounced off his nose ring. He’d loosened the buttons on his dress shirt, so I got to see a little more of his tattoo.
“I’ve enjoyed myself,” I told Boston right before I took one last pull of the weed. It was some good shit, too, because I felt like I was on my way to the clouds above us.
Boston looked over at me with low eyes, and I squeezed my thighs together. My pussy was wet, and my clit felt like the smallest gush of air would make me cum.
“I did too.” Boston got up from his seat, then pulled me up from mine. He lifted my chin, so I was forced to look at him. “You know what would make this night even better?”
“What?” I whispered. My nipples hurt as they pressed against my dress.
“If I could kiss my wife.” Boston’s lips were on me before I could respond, and I wasn’t mad at him for taking the initiative.
I slightly parted my lips so Boston’s tongue could slide between them. The remnants of weed and the wine on Boston’s tongue mingled with mine. Maybe it was the person, but I liked the way our tongues tasted together. Boston’s hand roamed the length of my body, and he grabbed a handful of my ass.
His tongue left my mouth and made its way to the side of my neck. I tossed my head back and moaned.
“Can I make love to my wife? I want to consummate this marriage,” Boston said against my neck. “Am I allowed to do that, Harvest?” The low tone of his question shot straight to my clit. He licked my neck before he licked my chin. He slowly pushed my dress up and rested his hand on my thigh.
The make love to my wife threw me off, because he didn’t ask a question.
He said it like it was law, and crazy enough, it was.
There was no way I would turn down the opportunity to fuck Boston.
I had to see if the walk was real or just an act.
But did he really mean make love, like he was going to look me in my eyes while he did it?
Everyone knew eye contact during sex was a different ballgame.
“You gonna answer me, mama?” Boston slid his hand between my thighs and rubbed my clit. “No panties, huh? You knew I was going to want to taste you, didn’t you?”
I gasped when he stuck two fingers inside of me. I gripped his arm as my knees buckled.
“I need to see if you taste as good as you smell. Fucking caramel and vanilla. That shit does something to me.”
Why was he talking to me like that while I was on the verge of losing my balance and damn marbles. A man’s fingers shouldn’t have felt that good.
Boston got right on my ear. “Nah, hold that shit.”
What? my inner thoughts screamed. How could he say hold it like he wasn’t playing in my pussy like he was stroking a piano.
“I can’t.” I moaned.
“Yes, you can. Be a good girl for me and hold it,” he whispered in my ear.
“Boston,” I pleaded. I felt like I was spinning.
He pulled his fingers out of me, and I wanted to cry. I licked my lips as he licked my juices from his fingers.
“I wanted to taste you first, but I can’t right now. You got my dick so damn hard, baby.” He took my hand and put it on his bulge. “You feel that? You did that.” He rubbed our hands over his dick and closed his eyes.
My body felt like it would explode all over if he didn’t stop teasing me. Taking matters into my own hands, I stepped back and pulled my dress over my head. I had on a bra, so I took it off.
Boston unbuttoned his shirt as he stared at me. As hot as my body was, I forgot we were outside for a moment. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t hot either.
I watched Boston get naked and stroke his dick with his eyes on me. I probably should have been worried about someone watching us, but I wasn’t. We were too high up anyway.
“I’m not going to lie. I want to take you inside so I could really do some things to you, but I fear I won’t make it.
” He smirked while he continued to stroke himself.
“I think we should do it out here if you want. The waves crashing in the background will sound lovely as you moan my name. Lay down for me.” He nodded to the lounge chair.
The room was expensive, so the chairs weren’t cheap. As soon as I was on my back, I opened my legs. I kept my heels on because they looked good on my feet. Plus, I wanted to see how they looked with my anklet on his shoulder.
“Look at you. Wet and ready for me,” Boston said as he stood in front of the chair. He placed himself in between my legs with his dick still in his hand.
My back arched, and I moaned when he rubbed his dick up and down my slit. He put pressure on my clit as he continued rubbing his dick. His eyes never left mine as he tortured me.
The pressure built in my pelvis and everywhere else as I felt my orgasm creeping up on me.
Before I could release, Boston entered me, and I damn near screamed.
My juices flowed out of me so fast it made my head spin.
“Boston,” I cried out.
“I know, baby. You cumming on your husband’s dick.”
His voice made me cum even harder. He threw around husband and wife like it was nothing.
“You feel good, Mrs. Brooks.”
Something about him calling me by his last name set off another detonator in my body.
I came for the third time. Voodoo. It had to be a spell this man was putting on me.
We were on the balcony for God’s sake, and he was fucking me like we were inside, in a bed.
My body felt like it was floating toward the clouds.