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Now, I wasn’t about to go making claims like the way he felt inside me was the best thing I’d ever experienced. I wasn’t going to say it was like somebody mixed together the thrill of a rollercoaster, the butterflies of a first kiss, fireworks, and eating fresh baked brownies into a syringe and injected it directly into my veins. No. I definitely wasn’t going to say a word of that. I’d just think it in the privacy of my own damn mind, because wow.
My whole body shook as he gripped my wrists and my hip, gliding into me and stretching me in a way that made me feel like I should probably spend the next few years bowing my head in church and begging forgiveness. Because if I’d learned anything from my forced stay in Sunday school as a kid, it was if anything felt this good, it was one hundred percent a sin.
I clamped my teeth together, bracing against the determined thrusts from Mr. Suit behind me. It was almost exactly like I’d imagined. Him frustrated and determined while I was stony faced and unaffected by his efforts. Except he was breathing heavy now and there was nothing stony about the lust-filled heaviness of his eyes.
And I realized with sudden horror that an orgasm was rapidly rising inside me and threatening to explode. All over him. All over my idea that the reason I couldn’t get off with a guy was just that the right one hadn’t come along—that Mr. Perfect’s penis would be the secret key to my pleasure.
This was all wrong.
I lost concentration just long enough for the fated words to slip from my lips. “Yes, oh God, yes.” Shit. I couldn’t even press a hand to my mouth because he was pinning them. I felt him tense, and from the way his grip went tight, I realized he had finished inside me. Thank God I insisted on a condom.
He pulled himself out, discarded the condom in a nearby trashcan, and yanked his expensive pants back up like he didn’t even care that my arousal was still all over him. Or maybe he was the kind of kinky bastard who liked the idea of walking around all day with me on his cock. I swallowed, wishing that idea didn’t turn me on.
I tugged my skirt down, doing an undignified little shimmy before kneeling and pulling my panties up. There was no sexy or classy way to try to put myself back together in front of him. Not after that. Especially not after he’d won our stupid, ridiculous little game.
“Aren’t you going to gloat?” I asked.
“No.” He straightened his tie, and from the look on his face, you would never know he just blew his load inside me. “I got what I came for.”
Stupid, cocky bastard. “Yeah?” I said, sounding a little too desperate to get something from him before he walked straight out of my life. “You’re just going to leave?”
He moved past me, pulling the door open and stopping just before he left. “Relationships are for people with time.”
“Yeah,” I called after him. “And functioning hearts.” I didn’t know why I was trying to argue with him. There was zero percent of me that thought he and I had even the most remote chance of being compatible in a relationship.
Except… That hadn’t just been sex. It was an experience. It had felt life changing, as overly dramatic as that was. He’d swept into my life and in a few glorious thrusts, he’d unraveled one of my most central theories of the universe. My spell of orgasmless relationships hadn’t been because the right guy was still out there. It was just—ugh. I didn’t even know what it was, but now I could never change the fact that he had been the one to make it happen. I wished that didn’t feel significant somehow.
The door shut, and all I could do was sit down on the cold floor and pull my knees up to my chest. I thought I could feel my life threatening to crack at the seams. And then I felt a strange, warm, and wet sensation between my legs. I shifted a little. I definitely wasn’t still turned on, so it wasn’t like the old girl was still prepping the tunnel for a train.
I put my hand to the source and flinched. Was that… I pulled it back and saw a little fragment of a condom on my fingertip, along with a generous helping of Mr. Suit’s DNA. Before the true shock and horror really settled in, I wondered what kind of supermodel kids were swimming around on my fingertip, just waiting to catwalk into the world and start ripping people new assholes.
I flicked my finger and scooted back, shuddering all over.
The condom broke.
“It broke,” I said it aloud, just because that’s what my shocked brain seemed to think it needed to do. “The fucking condom broke. He came inside me.”
