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“Fuck,” I groan, balling my fists and staring up at the ceiling at the feeling of her hot, soft mouth.
“You taste amazing,” she gasps, before working her mouth along my shaft once more. In this moment, it feels so real. This. Not a broken girl paying off a debt owed. Not a selfish bastard claiming something he has no right to. It feels like she could be mine. For real. Not just a good fuck with a looming deadline.
I push the thought out of my head and focus on the way her tongue is working my cock. When it’s almost too much to bear, I tug her up by her jaw and spin her around, pushing her into the steamed-up glass wall.
“Oh god,” she garbles, pressing her palms up against the glass.
I dip between her legs and coat her juices over the button of her tight asshole. “So, anal,” I mutter in her ear, nipping at her lobe. “You’re a pro I take it?”
She shudders under my touch. “Uh-huh,” she squeaks in a small voice, “Done it millions of times.”
With a low growl, I push the head of my cock into her tight bud. It takes every ounce of self-control I have—which isn’t commonplace around Dahlia—to go slow. I know she’s fucking lying about doing anal. Those doe-like eyes might be good at hiding secrets, but they can’t hide the lies.
She groans. I hold her lower stomach, keeping her in place as I drive deeper into her. Fuck. I thought her pussy felt good… but this untouched asshole is taking me to new levels of euphoria.
“Maybe youarea pro,” I growl, lifting my hands from her stomach and to her throat. I gently squeeze her gullet, enjoying the way her moan vibrates against my hand. “Only one way to find out.”
Holding her hip with my spare hand, I drive into her, deeper, faster, the gasps ripping from her throat. “All you have to do is say ‘stop’, angel,” I remind her softly.
She twists her head around, just enough for me to see her flustered face and wild eyes. “Don’t you dare fucking stop,” she hisses.
I pick up the pace of my strokes, sliding in and out of her tight asshole, staking my claim with every hard and fast pump.
Her frantic words send me over the edge. Balls tightening inside of me, I release my load into her, quads shaking as cum shoots out of my dick and into her warm asshole.
She spins around and comes undone in my arms. I wrap my hand around the back of her head, pulling her into my chest, enjoying how my hand tangles in her wet hair.
“Good girl,” I murmur, lips brushing over the top of her head. “Thanks for the first.”
With a pathetic, tired fist, she beats on my chest. “Wasn’t my first,” she wheezes.
I smile over the top of her head.
I’ll let her have it.
It feels like we’re standing here for ages, her cheek against my heartbeat, until I come back down to earth long enough to realize she’s shivering.
The water has run cold.
“Perks of living off-grid,” I grunt, hitting the off button and grabbing a towel. I engulf her in her, wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her arms.
She’s not listening. Instead, she’s staring at my lips, biting her own.
My heart sinks a few inches in my chest, and I rip myself away from her.
Don’t.
Don’t try to kiss me, because if you do, I’ll come undone like a cheap suit.
Don’t try to kiss me, because if you do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to say goodbye.
Grabbing another towel off the rail, I step out of the shower, wrap it around my waist and lean against the sink. Getting out of the lust-filled bubble that the shower cubicle created.
We dry off in silence in front of the mirror. Then she grabs a spa-style robe hanging on a hook in the bathroom and wraps herself in it. When I finally turn to face her, there’s sadness contorting her beautiful features.
I swallow the question.
It comes up anyway, just in another form.
