Chapter 7 #2
“Fucking you is perfection,” he groaned, then reached his other hand to my ass, squeezing my favorite cheek hard, unleashing a blast of pure heat through my body.
I felt as if I were on fire, as if my body had become an inferno of pleasure as he drove into me.
Words were no longer needed, not even our naughty back and forth, because they were reduced to pants and moans.
His steely length filled me so completely that I was sure nothing else existed in the whole wide world but this—the pure and absolute bliss of his glorious cock sliding in and out, harder, deeper, faster.
His fingers playing against the soft flesh of my rear. Squeezing my cheeks.
The world around me was white with bright, hot stars exploding as he took me deeper.
He bent his head to my neck, all while gripping tight, never letting go.
My belly clenched, and I felt the first surge of sensations, like a rocket engine starting to burn, rattling as it began to take off.
He pressed his lips to my shoulder as he pumped into me.
He bit down, his teeth sharp against my skin, sending a rush of fresh and sweet pain into my body.
It was the key turned in the ignition, and in an instant there was liftoff.
I shot into the sky, engulfed in pleasure that spread in a fury from my center all the way through to my fingertips.
My moans escalated into a frenzied chorus of I’m going to come, I’m going to come. Then, finally, his name.
“Oh god, Jack,” I called out, not even recognizing my own voice anymore. Not even sure where it was coming from.
I wasn’t even here. I was in an opium den of bliss, a pleasure palace of his making as he thrust so deep and so hard that I swore my first orgasm rolled right into a second one.
The next wave hit me unexpectedly, a shattering burst of bright light and gorgeous heat that pulsed through me in aftershocks.
I didn’t think I ever wanted to stop coming, even as he raced to join me on the other side, another bite into my shoulder setting him off.
He groaned, holding on tight as his brows scrunched, his groans turned primal, and he came too.
Jack
We lay tangled up in each other, clothes still half-on, having fallen into bed.
“If my calculations are correct, that was twice,” I said, as I ran my fingers through her hair. I loved the feel of her hair against my skin.
“That has never happened to me before,” she said, still dazed, and I wanted her to look like that again and again with me. As soon as I thought that, I realized I didn’t want a one-night stand with her.
I wanted two nights, three nights, more and more.
To make her come again and again. To bring out that response.
“We can do it again,” I said, offering in a tone that was both playful and truly sincere. I wanted her to know I meant it. I turned on my side, propping my head on my hand, running my fingers down her hip bone. “Michelle with two Ls, what would you think about another time?”
“Well, I should hope you’re planning on another time in about, say,” she stopped to look at her watch, “fifteen minutes.”
I laughed lightly. “Yes, obviously this room is for multiples of multiple orgasms, and I fully intend on fucking you again in, say, ten minutes.”
Then I turned more serious, because I wanted her to know that this could be more than one night.
Funny, how I hadn’t expected that, and had figured a quick romp and then goodbye would be all that was needed.
But even though I had no intention of anything serious happening, because I was no good at that type of relationship, I could go for dinner and another night like this.
Have her come over to my penthouse apartment, drink wine, and then enjoy some window sex in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in my living room that overlooked the park.
“But I also would love to see you again. What are you doing tomorrow night?”
She paused, the corner of her lips quirking up in a half-smile. “Just Jack, are you asking me out on a date?”
I grinned, then leaned in for a quick kiss, brushing my lips against her bruised and red ones, the evidence of how she’d been kissed, and desired. My mark on her, this woman I wanted. “I suppose I am.”
“Then you’re going to need to be more than Just Jack. Want to cough up that last name now?” she said, making a gimme motion with her hands.
I parted my lips to answer, but was cut short when Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” started playing, a loud crescendo of the most famous part of the piece of music.
Michelle twitched, her shoulders visibly tensing.
She sprang out of bed, hunting for her purse, then fishing around in it for her phone as she buttoned her shirt.
Possibilities flashed through my brain—was she married? Was this the save me from a friend?
“This is Michelle,” she said in a crisp, businesslike tone as she tucked her shirt into her skirt.
Maybe it was work. I still didn’t know what she actually did for a living.
Listening to the call, she nodded several times as she slipped her feet back into her black pumps, then smoothed a hand down her shirt. “I understand. Please tell her I will call her in three minutes.”
She hung up, and sighed heavily. “Jack. I’m so, so sorry. That was my service. A patient of mine needs me. But I want to see you again, so please take my number and call me tomorrow, okay?”
I narrowed my eyes, not sure if I believed her. “If you just want a one-time thing, that’s cool.”
She walked quickly to the bed, bending down to drop a kiss on my lips.
“I’m not married, not even close,” she said, answering my unasked question.
“I haven’t been involved with anyone in ages, and I would really like to see you again, so give me your number and I’ll text you right now so you have mine in your phone,” she said, and she seemed so earnest and bullshit-free that I chose to believe her.
I knew what she did now; she was a doctor, which made sense of how she’d said she made people feel better. Noble profession, and all. I rattled off my number, and she dialed it, rather than texting. Why was that sexier? No clue, but it was. My phone sounded from my pocket.
She arched an eyebrow. “You like Ravel?”
I nodded. “Classical music fan here.”
“We have so much to talk about. Text me tomorrow. And, Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for the two best orgasms of my life.”
“Next time, we’ll make it a double of a double.”
“I’m going to hold you to it. And on that, I need to run,” she said, slinging her purse higher on her shoulder then opening the door. It clanged loudly behind her when it shut, the sound of the night ending far too soon.
I rolled onto my back, tucking my hands behind my head, and stared at the ceiling.
The sound of a siren echoed in the distance, the noise of New York inserting itself into another moment. The room closed in, suddenly too small, too empty as I longed for both her company and her body.