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Lifting his glass to salute me, his eyes gleam as he says, "Your ass is mine tonight."
* * *
Our clothes are on the floor in a trail of passion the second we step into his grand suite.
Within two minutes, James is surging inside me. His strokes are hitting all the right spots most men can't reach inside me. It’s a struggle not to allow myself to sink into the decadence of this man. It feels too good and I’m fighting off the orgasm, as usual. Every time I feel the pleasure drawing closer to the surface, I close my eyes and breathe steadily through my nose.
"I swear you have more testosterone than a teenage boy," I say, breathless.
"Is that a complaint?" he asks, wrapping my hair around his fist and yanking my head back.
His mouth is on my neck and if he sucks any harder, he's going to leave a hickey. Right now, he has me pressed against the window as he takes me from behind. My hands are flat to the cold glass, and every time I exhale a frosted little circle forms in front of my mouth. The cool air causes my nipples to harden and a soft moan escapes my throat as he drives in and holds stills. Fuck my life, I love this pressure between my legs so much. It's a painful kind of pleasure—need—that I fall into.
"I'm just shocked you haven't come yet," I say.
James groans near my ear like he's in ecstasy. "I only come once you do, sweetheart. Never before."
Valentina, you're up.
"Why didn't you say so before? I've been waiting for you," I say and start putting the act on like I'm getting closer. I don't make it obviously fake the way porn stars do, just enough to sound genuine, which isn't hard with James. I'm so close, but I hold off. Moans and purrs leave my parted lips, and I call his name, telling him I'm coming all over his cock that I can't get enough of. I tell him to take me harder and he does, and that nearly sets me over the edge for real. The hold on my hair tightens and his thrusts deepen, but I don't feel him come. He just slows to a stop, let's go of my hair, then pulls out.
"You didn't come," he says.
I freeze from his stiff voice but quickly recover. There'
s no way I was a bad fake. Impossible.
"I did."
He turns me around to face him. I can't help but take in his beautifully toned, naked body before my eyes meet his. He's not angry, but he's not happy either. Strength and sexuality ripple from him and it makes me want to reach out and touch every inch of him.
"You want to try that again?"
I frown. "I don't understand," I say, my heavy breathing matching his.
"I know what your pussy feels like when you come, and it didn't do shit."
My lips part. The sound of his voice sends chills over my body. I'm instantly annoyed that he can tell, but more so at myself for not giving a better performance.
"James, that's ridiculous."
He counters me and it makes my heart pound. "Are we going to start lying to each other already? Because a year contract is a long time to harbor resentment. It turns the sex sour, and as you know, intimacy is a huge factor in my life and why I'm willing to pay whatever it is you want to have that intimacy with you."
I swallow, a little insulted, a little hurt. Flattening my lips, I tell him again. "James, I did come."
His eyes harden. "I can't get off if you don't, sweetheart, and you definitely didn't. Your satisfaction is what makes me hard as a fucking rock. What do you need from me? Tell me so I can do it."
My chest constricts at his words. He wants to make me feel good and here I am trying to not allow it. His gaze pierces my heart and I prop my hands on my hips, looking away. I can't tell him I don't want to finish because that sounds just plain fucking strange, but I know that if I do come, it'll only pull me closer to him and I don't want that. I can't afford for that to happen because then I'll fall even further for him. It's clear that my needs are his needs, and that’s just not something I'm used to. It's new territory for me, and something in my gut tells me to put a wall up to prevent the inevitable hurt.
From what I’ve come to understand, there are two things that are an absolute must in a relationship for everyone: intimacy and trust. Intimacy is the bottom lock on a door. It can be toyed with and sometimes popped open for others to enter if there isn't a strong trail of communication. Trust is what seals the relationship and keeps it solid, the bolt that keeps both people locked in and makes that intimacy build. I can't afford to be trapped when he has the key, and a year from now when he unlocks that door and says goodbye, I'm walking out with the clothes on my back and nothing more. I'm not asking him to throw away the key, but I'm not trying to start anything more either, and I feel like that's what will happen if I let go and really give myself to him. I don't see why I can't just give him the sex he wants and nothing more.
Swallowing, I soften my voice. "I don't need anything else from you, James. Everything you do is perfect."
"Did you forget that I work with liars every day? I can smell them a mile away. What I don't understand is why you would lie about this. What am I doing wrong?"
Instead of answering, I reach out to grab his still erect cock and step closer to stroke him. I offer up a sweet smile, then drop to my knees and take him into my mouth before he has a second to say anything else.
Blow jobs. Catnip for men.
