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“Your view is beautiful.”
“Yes, it is,” I say, not speaking of the city or the ocean in the distance. “I’m going to shower, and then I’ll take you home.”
As Ryan walks away from me, I realize I like him, and I do want to get to know him. I’m afraid I’ll never see him again. He was cold last night, and I don’t understand why. But this morning, the sexual spark between us still burns like a raging fire. He can’t deny that, and using that flame is the only way I know to convince him I’d like to accept his offer to spend time with him. Men are simple creatures, ruled by their anatomy. And, as a woman in my profession, I’m skilled at knowing exactly how to use a man’s desire to my advantage. Whether or not that’s wrong is a question of morality, and I’m afraid when it comes to doing what is ethically correct, I failed a long time ago. Despite my best intentions, I’m a lifelong passenger on the fast train to Hell.
I strip my clothes and quietly enter the steamy bathroom. Through the fogged glass, I see his naked form facing the shower head, one arm flat against the tile in front of him. I want to run my hands over his lean, fit body, and feel his skin against mine and listen to him make me promises he can never keep. I clearly enjoy self-inflicted torture, but this feels right.
Slipping in behind him, I inhale a breath for courage. The muscles in his back flex, but he doesn’t turn around. There’s a moment of admiration where I stare at his incredibly tight ass before the powerful urge to feel him inside me, and me gripping him, takes over. I wind my arms around his waist and press my palms against his firm chest, sliding them over his defined pectorals.
“I like you, too,” I whisper, and lick a drop of warm water from his shoulder.
He spins and grabs my jaw with both hands, applying pressure and holding my head completely still. A primal anger flashes in his eyes, sending heat low in my belly. His jaw ticks as his eyes move back and forth across mine. One hand leaves my face and comes up behind me, his fingers clutching a wad of hair. He pulls hard. I suck in a ragged breath and feel my nipples tighten. My tongue peeks out to lick a f
ew drops of water from my lips. That’s when his eyes grow intensely fierce. His hips push forward, his erect cock flush with my belly just above my sex.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he growls.
I nod faintly.
I’m entranced the moment his soft, wet lips glide over mine. He’s going to rip my heart out, but I don’t put a stop to things. Trouble or not, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to feel him deep inside me as all of my problems melt away and the world around me disappears.
I part my lips and close my eyes. His tongue dips into my mouth, and he kisses me ferociously and dominantly, the force slightly painful. His hands push into my back, drawing our bodies close together. Water pools where my breasts meet his chest and spills over. With a long suck on my bottom lip, Ryan releases the kiss. His eyes, dark as midnight, bore into mine. His palms flatten against the tile behind me, caging me in. My eyes follow a drop of water that trickles through the stubble on his cheek. My heart beats furiously and so loud, I’m positive he can hear it over the running water. Our eyes meet again, his with uncertainty.
“Maria,” he says, his voice tinged with anger, like he’s sending me a warning to run. He’s seeking escape.
If I reply in the least bit timidly, he’ll back out. I know he will. Whatever happened last night still weighs heavily on his mind. My guess is, it’s someone he’s trying to forget, and I want to be the one to make him.
“Ryan, I want you to fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked anyone before.”
His groan is tortured, a combination of pleasure and pain, a failure of will, which is my desired response.
“My heads fucked up right now. I can’t promise you anything except that I’ll probably end up hurting you.”
“I don’t care. Just. Fuck. Me.”
His forehead touches mine and he sighs. “You can’t say things like that.”
Oh, I can say much more than that. I reach down and grip his cock in my hand. He’s big, long, and ready to give me what I crave from him. “Fuck me, Ryan. Mark me. Fill me with your cock and make me cry.”
This time his groan comes so desperately, I know I have him.
His lips skim my jaw, slow and deliberate, as though he’s giving himself a final minute to change his mind. I squeeze the thickness of his shaft, my thumb circling the tip, and let my head fall back. My eyes open when he squeezes my ass and lifts me up into his arms. Victory! I scream in my mind, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He pushes me up against the wall forcefully and slams into me without warning. The way he completely fills me causes me to cry out loudly, and I squeeze my eyes shut again.
“Is this what you want?” he asks in a strangled voice.
“Yes, oh, God, yes.”
“Say it again!” he orders.
“Fuck me, Ryan. Fuck me hard.”
His breath hisses, his grip on me tightening, before he slowly withdraws and surges forward convincingly, slamming me back into the shower wall. With every thrust, he hits just the right spot inside me, pushing me closer to ecstasy.
I rarely orgasm with clients — I assume because there’s no emotional connection. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the slow buildup of pressure and the ache of impending euphoria from deep within. I wrench my legs tighter around Ryan’s waist and struggle to stay up. The steady stream of the shower beats against the side of my cheek.
Ryan increases his pace and I moan repeatedly, screaming out his name and pulling roughly on his hair. For Ryan, this moment is a raw and aggressive show of control, erotic, indulgent, and possibly dangerous. There’s a carnality in him that’s insatiable. He’s a man of secular leanings, who commands power, and his reasons stem from whoever it is that made him feel helpless. He fucks like he’s letting me know he’s stronger than me, not only physically, but emotionally. Each time he pushes forward, he does so with a purpose. He’s making a point. I won’t walk away from this unscathed. I won’t be able to forget him. Ryan groans loudly in my ear, and his body goes rigid. He’s close, and so am I.
As I race toward climax, Ryan suddenly pulls out and sets me down. He grips his swollen cock in his hand and strokes himself fast and rough. “Oh, fuck … fuck … What am I’m doing?”
