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Last night was… oh my. It was everything.
I’ve never had anything like that happen to me. Last night was all about me and what I wanted. Not that Khristian didn’t get what he wanted, too.
I was too scared to ask if he was supposed to fuck me that many times, but I wasn’t about to say no. Even if my vagina is certainly feeling it this morning.
I touch my lips, bruised and sore from his kisses. I feel his grip still around the back of my neck and hips, my ass. I feel him everywhere.
The fall from grace is huge. I didn’t expect to feel this. Like I want more, which is ridiculous. I don’t even know his going rate, not that I would make this a regular thing, nor could I afford it. And let’s face it, he was here because he was hired to be here. I’m no supermodel, but I feel confident enough to say that it wouldn’t have been a hardship for him.
I sigh when I recapture the evening after the pool…
We showered and went to bed. Khristian sliding under the comforter behind me as we spooned. Spooned! I didn’t imagine that he’d spend the night. I thought he’d be picking up his clothes and leaving, but the entire night, he held me close.
We drifted off to sleep and when I woke suddenly, Khristian was slipping inside me as he slowly brought me to orgasm without even skipping a beat. He stayed seated inside me, even after he came and then I fell asleep again. With him inside me.
I seriously don’t know who this man is, but I will never forget him.
I roll onto my side and groan, pulling the pillow over as I try to get thoughts of him out of my head. It’s a little hard when I can still smell his cologne on the sheets.
My god. I’ve never had that much sex in… well, ever.
I didn’t think guys could get it up that many times in one night, especially older men.
Khristian isn’t just gifted — he’s a goddamn Adonis.
I groan. I can’t hide out here any longer.
I pull back the comforter and I make my way to the huge bathroom. I could seriously get lost in here. I pee and splash cold water on my face as I groan at my appearance. My hair looks like Tina Turner’s, and last night's mascara took up residence under my eyes. That’s not a good look.
I grab a cotton swab and deal with that, noting to swipe all the Bvlgari products before I check out. I brush my teeth, tie my hair in a ponytail and jump in the shower.
I have to wash the smell of sex from my body, as much as it pains me to lose Khristian’s scent, but I have to face reality sometime.
I slather the luxurious body cream all over me after I towel off and walk back into the room. My eyes go wide when I see a bunch of red roses on the table. I rush over to the vase and grasp the little card, my heart fluttering.
Krasavitsa,
Thank you for a wonderful evening.
I want to see you again when I’m in Seattle.
If you’d like to…
Yours,
Khristian.
I gasp in shock when I see his cellphone number.
He wants to see me again? I brush away the thought that this makes me a woman who pays for sex… a woman who’s never done anything like this before and technically, it is breaking the law.
Then jealousy surges through me. Does he ask all his clients to see him again?
Is that how he gets regular clients? Clients. I wince.
He didn’t mention anything about his hourly rate, but judging by the cost of a room like this, I can only dare to imagine.
Still. He left roses. That was kind of sweet. If I could afford to pay for him for another night, I wouldn’t hesitate.
