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“Dafna, you have to put calming lotion on your skin. Go to my bedroom and remove your shirt. We need to take care of the tattoo.”
“Okay.”
She sat on his bed, still wearing her pants, her bare back to him. The long-lashed painted eyes of her tattoo followed him eerily as he approached with the calming lotion. Her skin drank thirstily the cream he applied.
“That’s good,” she said. “Thanks.”
They didn’t take advantage of the beautiful honeymoon suite and she looked so hurt when he left last night. An urgency grasped him, the same as when he made love to her on that first night, knowing she was a one-night stand and wishing with all his might she wasn’t.
“I love you,” he blurted. He could hear a finality in his voice, entirely the wrong tone to declare love. “I want to make love to you.”
“And I want you,” she whispered.
“I love you,” he repeated. She didn’t say I love you too. She sighed and turned to him, her generous mouth downturned.
“I wish…” he said, not finishing the sentence. He wished they weren’t on opposing sides. He wished she didn’t ask him to be someone he wasn’t. He wished she could love him back sufficiently, so he was more important than her place of work.
“Take off your shirt,” Dafna murmured. He obeyed, pushing his sorrow down. This was their last time, and they were both aware of it. She was seducing him, and he was seducing her.
“You’re beautiful.” She took his hand in hers, and flipped it so his palm faced upwards. She brought it to her lips as if she was sipping a glass of wine, and kissed the inside of his arm, giving him a full body shudder, and a cock so stiff he couldn’t wait anymore.
“Patience.” She accurately sensed his mood. “Wait…do we have time? Are you expecting Gal?”
“Not for a couple of hours.”
“Let me have you in my mouth.”
A woman who liked to give blow jobs. He was a stupid, stupid man. He got rid of his shorts. Dafna sat on her knees and watched as he stretched on his back next to her. Her wet mouth grabbed his erection, and he growled so loudly that she laughed, her breath warm on his sensitive skin. Her teeth scraped his cockhead, and he jerked and leaked right into her waiting thumb. Her weight shifted the bed, and he closed his legs a little. She was the epitome of every fantasy he’d ever had, leaning over him, her hair caressing his chest, her perfect boobs hovering over his mouth. His cock was trapped between her wet pussy and his stomach. She slid back and forth, teasing him.
“Dafna, please…”
“I know.” Her hot center enveloped his cock. The relief changed quickly to overpowering need. He grabbed her hips, wanting to thrust fast and close, seeking the climax that was just there coiling inside him.
“Don’t move!” Dafna ordered. He froze, his palms gripping her juicy thighs, her commanding tone a fierce turn on. Her walls closed on him and he puffed air fast, trying to hold it in. Biting her lips, Dafna started moving slowly.
“You’re mine. To play with,” she threw his words from The Thinking Nook back at him. She grabbed both his hands and he let her pull them back above his head. She didn’t smile, didn’t kiss him, didn’t meet his eyes. He’d said ‘I love you’ earlier, but this–this was a hate fuck.
“Say my name,” she ordered. He wanted to sob, but he didn’t. He obeyed.
“Dafna.”
She set the pace. Bent and kissed his neck, and sighed in his ear, her moans crawling around him, as she took him deeper. Everything narrowed down to their bodies together, their synchronized breaths, the orgasm she was driving him towards. She laid her head on his chest, her soft hair in his nostrils. He breathed her in and came and came and came.
She was gone long before Gal returned.
Chapter 38
I Won’t Sign The Report
“Hello! What are you doing here? The ‘bring your little brother to work’ day was last week,” he told Eitan, trying for lightness.
“You sounded weird on the phone last night. I wanted to check on you,” Eitan said. Yesterday his brother called right after Dafna left with the exciting news that he landed the role he auditioned for.
“It’s been a shitty weekend,” he admitted to his brother. “Coffee?”
They each prepared capsule coffee in the machine, which he used to like very much until he’d had the coffee at Kisharti, and sat at the small round table he had for meetings.
“What happened? Is it something to do with Dafna? It looked like you guys were a strong item.”
