MARK
We spend hours grazing on Emine’s mezze platter. Talking. Laughing. Cuddling. Her fingers are constantly seeking out a part of me to touch, and I love it. I want her to. I want to ask her to stay all weekend, because I can’t imagine spending a minute without her.
After dinner, and another round of sex (with her on the kitchen island) that takes my breath away, it’s close to midnight. I lead her to the bedroom, where she opens her bag and laughs—that glorious sound I want to hear more of.
“I was a bit nervous earlier, and it seems I didn’t pack properly.”
She holds up a towel, a pair of underwear, and a toothbrush.
“You didn’t think I had towels?” I tease.
“I wasn’t thinking at all!”
She throws the towel towards me, laughing.
I chuckle, and picture her running around, not knowing what to pack. She’s so fucking adorable. The image of her packing flustered makes me laugh even harder. It’s not that funny, really, but there’s so much going on in my body right now, it has to come out somehow.
“Hey, don’t laugh, I don’t have anything else to wear,” she says, but there’s a smile in her voice.
I rub the laughter tears out of my eyes before I step forward and grab her small waist with both my hands and pull her close.
“You don’t need clothes here.”
“Well, I don’t want your cleaner or chef or whatever to see me in just my knickers.”
“I’ll get you a t-shirt,” I say and reluctantly let go of her to fetch one.
A few minutes later, she comes out of the bathroom wearing my navy Cambridge Uni t-shirt with her hair up in a loose knot and I know for sure.
I want her to be mine.
I’m selective about who I spend my time with. Time is money, and you don’t stay a billionaire by wasting it. When I choose someone, I’m typically right. The initial decision to be with her on Wednesday was poor. It was impulsive, and not how I’d typically go about it. But now, when I look at her like this in my home—my sanctuary—nothing has felt more like the right thing to do.
The best decision I’ve ever made.
“Stay all weekend,” I say.
“Okay?” she says, smiling. “Do I have to get up at five like you do?”
“No,” I say, pulling her close again and sitting down on the bedside. “You sleep in, and I’ll exercise. I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”
“Perfect,” she whispers, and kisses me, pushing me back on the bed, and I let her. I like that she knows what she wants. “May I?” She doesn’t hesitate after I nod and shift position soshe can pull my joggers down, letting my cock salute her as it should.
The look on her face as she caresses my length makes me throb with need. She bites her lip and kneels, sending me a sultry stare. I must look absolutely feral, because this is one of my fantasies about her. Seeing her put my hard dick in her mouth, watching her loving to take me in, it makes the heat rush through me.
When she finally does, when her warm, supple lips wrap around me, it’s better than any fantasy. She moans against my cock, her voice vibrating through me. Her hands work the base, while she goes as far as she can. I hit the back of her throat, and she hums.
“Mmm.”
“Fuck, Rey, so good.” There is no way I’ll be able to string a coherent sentence together while watching this stunning woman with her mouth full of me.
She licks up the length, twirling her tongue around the tip, and I lean my head back, groaning. It won’t take long the way she’s going. She finds her rhythm again, and I fist my hand in her hair, guiding her speed, but letting her decide how far she wants to go. One of her hands cups my balls while she increases her pace, and it crashes over me faster than I anticipated. I thrust into her mouth. Every touch of her tongue and lips on my sensitive cock makes me shudder and come harder, losing control, until I’ve emptied myself in her mouth, and I collapse back on the bed.
“Fucking hell, that was amazing,” I breathe and reach out for her. She stands up with a grin, her hair a complete mess after I gripped it, her cheeks flushed, and I’m about to get turned on yet again.
She crawls on top of me and plants her hands on either side of my head, looking down at me.
“I can get used to that. I love the sounds you make,” she says, and I can’t stop smiling.
