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“Well, hello there. To what do I owe this visit?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. I was hoping you would sleep with me.”
I snuggle against his chest, running my fingers over his nipples. They immediately harden, and he grasps my hand and kisses the palm.
“Behave.”
“Suppose I don’t want to?”
“Then, there will be consequences.”
My core quivers at the prospect of what those would be. I’m silent for a time looking for the right words to say.
“Jordan, I want you to fuck me.”
His answer is not what I expect, “No.”
“You said there would be consequences. I like those consequences.”
“The answer is still no. Go to sleep.”
“I won’t be able to think about what you did to me in the living room.”
“Would you like me to get you off again?”
“Yes, preferably with your cock.”
“That’s not going to happen tonight.”
I’m pouty because after waiting for three years, I want it now. I turn away from him, still keeping my back in contact with his side. He curls around me and his hand cups my breast, then slides down my stomach, inching my nightgown up. He runs his fingers over the mesh material of my boy shorts then slips his hands into them.
“Is this what you want?” he says as his fingers caress my swollen nub.
“Yes, please.”
“You’re so ready. I should use my mouth on you.”
I shiver, remembering what he did with his tongue. He latches onto my neck with his lips and gently sucks while he stimulates me. Jordan speeds up his circular motion, and in a few short minutes, I’m crying out as I climax. He withdraws his hand quickly, kisses my neck, and tells me to go to bed. I do, falling into a relaxing, deep sleep.
Chapter 6
I’m awakened the next morning by the sound of the shower in the master bath. Jordan is no longer in bed, and the day is just dawning. I turn and place my head on his pillow and shove my hands under it. It’s still warm, which means he got up only a short time ago.
The water turns off, and a few minutes later, Jordan comes out with a thick white towel wrapped around his waist. What a view to wake up to. I turn on my side and watch him sure that he’s unaware of me being awake. When he removes his towel, I almost pass out. His posterior could rival Michelangelo’s David.
“Emma, the next time you want to ogle me, make sure I can’t see you in the mirror.”
“I wasn’t ogling you.”
“I beg to differ,” he says as he slips on his boxers.
I can’t see anything on the front of him because of the way that he’s turned, but from last night’s activity, I know that he must be packing a decent-sized package. I hope to find out soon.
He sits down on the bed to slip on his black dress socks, then gets up and heads into the closet. When he comes out, he’s wearing a gray business suit with a white shirt and lavender tie. He seems very comfortable with feminine colors. I like that.
“What time do you have to be in the office?” I ask.
