Chapter 13
the thirteenth chapter
AMOS
Jewel toned strobe lights dapple every corner, every surface.
A seductive anthem has taken the entire room captive, a hypnosis of sorts.
Marco steps onto the dance floor as though he’s been summoned by it.
He lets the music carry him wherever it wishes.
The silk shirt he's borrowed looks undeniably hot on him.
Half undone, it falls open just enough to make me weak.
Our playful afternoon dip in the sea has gently bronzed his skin.
And now his hair has formed loose, salt softened waves.
I have a sudden, overwhelming urge to run my hands through it.
But I can’t.
Only seven minutes into our bet.
I’m already wishing I’d kept my stupid mouth shut.
The timer on my fitness tracker mocks me.
The slow sway of his body holds me in a trance.
This is a very different man to the one I met several months ago.
Insouciant and untamed.
No staff to keep in line.
He's left his phone in the suitcase next to the bed, as if to prove a point.
Our eyes are fixed on each other.
He releases the remaining buttons, one by one.
A provocative chess move, no doubt.
I refuse to submit, turning my focus to the people around me.
It’s the worst possible distraction.
Bodies dry hump and paw one another in every direction.
Marco holds my gaze.
There’s nothing casual about that look.
He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s loving every minute.
As I move closer, the subtle trace of his cologne is almost enough to end me.
My mouth parts slightly, heat blooming beneath my skin.
I stop the thought in its tracks.
Earn that balcony orgasm, I remind myself.
Drifting to the edge of the crowd, I regain my composure.
Soon the music shifts to something deeper, more sensual.
Turning back toward the dance floor, I discover that Marco is not alone.
A handsome stranger is dancing behind him.
Ripped t-shirt, tall and confident.
Gyrating suggestively, his intentions are obvious.
Not that anyone can blame him.
Marco is a magnet for sex, especially tonight.
And yet, he seems oblivious.
He only has eyes for me.
As soon as he notices the stranger, he shakes his head.
A firm smile. An awkward side step.
Clocking the lack of interest, the guy takes a hint and moves on.
I close the distance, but shove my hands in my pockets to avoid losing the bet.
Marco circles around me, chess game paused.
“As if I'd be tempted by offal when I have filet mignon right in front of me,” he smiles.
His eyes are tender.
We linger in the moment, merely inches apart.
“If I could kiss you right now, I would.”
I feel my resolve crumble.
“Oh but you can kiss me, gorgeous man.” Chess game resumed. “One little kiss. Come on.” The ache of self imposed denial is unbearable.
I release a slow controlled breath.
“Thirty four minutes to go,” I count. “But nice try.”
“Impressive,” teases Marco. “You want this cock inside you so bad. Don't ya?”
“More than ever,” I whimper.
My eyes close, head tilting back.
“Uh huh. You want me to make you cry out for more, just like you did in the kitchen when we got home from the beach.”
I nod slowly.
Heat radiates between us.
If butter could melt, it would sizzle.
My favourite lips are right there. I could just...
Balcony, balcony, balcony.
My mind loops on the word.
I want all of him.
I’ve never craved anyone more.
Inside my pocket, I run a thumb along the seam.
My throbbing dick has betrayed me.
The friction feels a little too good.
So I keep going.
Until Marco catches me in the act.
“I see that hand. Don't even think about it.”
“I just…”
“No shortcuts. Save that all for me.”
He stands closer than ever.
Breath hot against my neck, he whispers to me.
“I'll make it worth the wait.”
I repent, palms held flat in front of him.
Marco gives a flirty wink as he returns to the dance floor.
Twenty nine minutes to go.
“Worth it,” I mouth quietly. “You're worth it.”
As the hour begins to wane, my memory takes a detour to another darkly lit room.
The launch party.
That same handsome face in the crowd.
Marco's bossy disposition on full display, desire running high.
Our push and pull dynamic, both of us willing the other to surrender.
Both of us equally aroused when the power shifts.
As much as I love to rail that man against a wall, to make him beg for it, I can never resist him for long.
And tonight is proof of that.
Yet still, I behave.
Standing here like a fool with both hands visible at all times.
Eleven more minutes.
Marco is now shirtless.
He's almost given up trying to get me to break.
“I should've known that a man like you could edge me for a whole hour,” he sighs. “It's fucking hot to see you try and fight it though. Damn, I really thought I had you for a moment.”
“And you will have me,” I promise. “When I say.”
He holds up his hands in defeat.
“You win, okay?” The nonchalance in his eyes melts into hunger. “We can finish now. Let’s go.”
“Nope.”
He tries using his manners.
“Please, Amos. Let me have you.”
“Oh, trust me, I will.” My body sways to the rhythm. “But not until the hour is done. I'm a man of my word.”
“I need your hands on me,” he pleads.
“Then wait,” I persist. “Because I want you undone. That's why I'm being so... so... fucking good.”
As the crowd surges and writhes around us, we stare each other down for the longest eight and a half minutes.
When the timer vibrates on my wrist, he reaches for me.
The simple act of holding hands feels overwhelmingly intimate.
Our lips brush with caution.
Neither of us are willing to risk setting off the grenade until we get to the forty seventh floor.
I speak first.
One look.
Three words.
“Take me upstairs.”
◆◆◆
We barely make it through the apartment door.
“Who on earth taught you how to put on a shirt?” I laugh, tugging at the hastily fastened mess Marco made as we left the club. “Here I was thinking you were a grown adult. A professional businessman.”
“Take it off then,” he sasses, holding his arms in the air.
“That's my intention,” I whisper.
A knee merges between my thighs as we fumble to find the light switch.
On. Off. On.
Darkness remains.
“It only works if we insert the swipe card.” Marco gropes the floor. “I think I dropped it.”
“Forget the card,” I say. “I want you naked.”
I back him against a pillar.
He starts to undress but I push his hand away playfully.
“No, no. Hands off. You can't be trusted with buttons.”
The glow from the tower next door casts beams of pale yellow across the floor.
Shadows soften as our eyes adjust to the night.
I undo the first one, a slow twist between my fingers.
“There's something you should know,” I sigh. “You may have seen it written on the laundry label of my shirts.”
“And what's that?”
Marco trails a finger across my lip.
“It says I need to kiss a devastatingly handsome man every time a button is undone.”
I demonstrate.
“Rules are rules,” he concedes.
Button after button, kiss after kiss, we both come undone.
Shirts and pants cascade onto the floor.
Lips trace a path across shoulders, necks and nipples.
Soon only one button remains.
“I promised you could wear these boxers on one condition.”
My hands go rogue, massaging him over the cotton.
His back arches a little.
“That you can take them off any time you choose?”
I nod, dropping to my knees.
Undoing the fly, I hold it open.
Nuzzling my face against the shorts, I lick inside the slit.
My tongue explores along the shaft, pulling the fabric wider.
With a soft throaty moan, Marco lets his dick spring loose from the hole.
I’m a greedy boy tonight, taking him in my mouth.
Even with my throat open wide, I still gag a little.
With a light squeeze of the tip, I surface for air.
He rests against the pillar, drunk with desire.
We’ve been starving for each other all night.
“You know exactly what I... ohhh.”
I’m not done with him.
A firm hand twists in tandem with my lips.
“Amos…” his voice wavers.
Another deep dive, right down to the base.
Desperate fingers claw into my shoulder.
“Baby...”
Hearing him lose himself like that unleashes something dangerous in me.
I keep going, devouring him without restraint.
Soon enough, I taste a hint of cum leaking from him.
“Uh uh. Not yet,” I reprimand.
Pulling back, I leave him right on the edge.
Chin still wet, I meet his eyes and utter the word that has echoed in my mind all night.
“Balcony.”
Thumbing the elastic of my underwear, I cast them aside.
His glossy erection emerges from the peephole, fabric still damp around it.
I can’t resist one last tease, running my tongue across the head as his shorts hit the floor.
“You're asking for it,” Marco vows.
I like the sound of that.
“Make your move,” I taunt, before flicking the latch.
◆◆◆
Bare feet on tiles. Naked in the moonlight.
The thrill of it makes me harden even more.
City lights sparkle and flare, traffic brooding below.
I can still taste that man on my tongue.
His chest is warm against my back.
“Clothes are for the weak,” he scoffs.
“So true,” I reply. “Let’s never wear them again.”
Behind the towers an ocean unfurls, dark and endless.
Each swell pummels the sand with a roar and a hiss.
I saunter toward the railing, turning to sit on it.
Marco grabs my wrist.
“Stay away from there unless I'm holding you!”
His tone is fiercely protective.
I step back.
He’s probably right.
Being up this high comes with obvious risks.
“At least let me fuck you before you fall!” he scolds.
I didn’t mean to scare him.
He’s cute when he’s mad at me.
“My protector,” I croon.
“You're gonna need someone to save you when I'm done,” he says.
With a squeeze of the bottle, he coats himself.
His gaze softens, burning into me.
“I so badly need…”
His fist begins to pulse, breath shortening.
“Say it.”
“I need to be inside you.”
He motions toward the table.
Inked chest against the slats, I spread my feet.
A hand slaps my butt, hard enough to sting.
“Again,” I gasp, feeling the pain merge with pleasure.
Marco kisses it better, then rims me with his tongue.
My hand curls around the edge of a chair as he slides a finger inside me.
“Mmmm.”
“Relent,” he commands.
“I'm all yours,” I surrender.
A hungry dick teases the entrance.
Enough. Enough.
I can’t wait any longer.
“Just take me already,” I beg.
I feel the tip penetrate, easing its way in.
And then at last, that glorious cock.
“Ohhh, fuck yes…”
He thrusts into me, one hand against my back.
“Ahhh... ahhh…”
I let him fill me completely.
“Fuck me,” I plead, bracing myself for more.
And more is exactly what I get.
Marco reaches up to grab a handful of my hair.
That beautiful feral man, pounding me over and over.
I arch into him for a deeper hit.
Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he leads me over to the rail.
His lips graze along my wrist, then my neck.
“I have a crush on your boss,” he flirts.
“I have a feeling he likes you too,” I grin.
We share a tender kiss.
“Baby?” I whisper.
“Mmm?”
“Ruin me.”
There’s that wicked intemperance in his eyes again.
The look he gave me on the dance floor.
He holds out his palm.
“Spit.”
I do as I’m told.
“One foot on the curb,” he orders.
Shielding my body, he pulls me close.
“Hold tight,” he murmurs.
Leaning against the frame, I take him inside me once again.
His groan is savage.
I catch a glimpse of our reflection in the glass as he rides me raw.
So fucking hot.
This time, he doesn’t hold back.
Jaw tightening, he doubles the pace.
The thick heat of the night forms soft curls against my brow.
“More,” I cry.
Me and my stupid mouth, getting me in trouble again.
But I can’t help myself.
“You want this cock?”
“Mmmm,” I whimper.
I crave it like nothing else.
“Then play for me,” he says. “I like watching you do that.”
Friction mounts between my fingers.
Reaching beneath my thigh, he lifts my knee to the rail.
Deep and slow he moves inside me, pleasure rolling like a freight train.
I keep the rhythm steady with my hand, bliss undulating, threatening to spill over.
Our bodies are damp with sweat, the intensity between us escalating.
“I'm so close,” I gasp. “So close.”
Then Marco pulls out, hands firm around my hips.
Nestling his chin on my shoulder, his voice is raspy from exertion.
“I’m gonna put my mouth on you,” he says. “And when I stop… I want you to come all over that glass.”
I hold tempo in slow measured strokes, angling my hips toward him.
It never fails to astound me, when he gets on his knees.
This powerful bossy man, stripped of his suit.
Tasting me.
Rousing me beyond all limits.
Warm hands spread my thighs further apart.
He shuffles underneath me, leaning back, face tilted.
And then that tongue.
I curl over in ecstasy.
“Oh, you fucker…”
“Mmm?”
“You know I love that.”
My rhythm tapers, but I dare not stop.
He licks along the frenulum, sucking lightly on my nuts.
With every moan, his lips vibrate and I know I’m a goner.
A naughty finger tease around my rim sends me feral.
I hold out as long as I can.
“Mercy,” I plead.
He shakes his head, mouth occupied.
His fist is busy too, bringing himself closer to orgasm.
“Mercy…”
But he isn’t done with me.
Not yet.
Heat surges through my body in waves, knees quivering as I try to rein it in.
And then, as he lays down between my legs, our eyes meet and we surrender.
Creamy white, painting the glass.
Creamy white, covering his hand and stomach.
Breathless and shaking, my legs buckle as I slump against the tiles.
Marco’s mouth is soft on mine.
“My darling,” he whispers.
Seeking sanctuary in his arms, I feel his heartbeat against my ribs.
Together, we melt into the night.