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His cock is perfect.
I don’t know if there’s such a thing as a perfect cock, but if there is, I’m staring right at it. Obviously, hard, perfect color, perfect shape, and a perfect size.
My God, Milana, stop obsessing. This is so not you.
With a handful of my long hair, he guides himself into my mouth, moaning each time the tip of his cock passes my lips. He tastes so good, covered in my juices which only arouses me more. He bites hard on his bottom lip before belting out a loud groan as the warm liquid shoots into the back of my throat.
Crap, I’ve never swallowed before.
I have no idea what to do.
Hurry. Think!
He hands me a tissue with a satisfied grin on his face.
So, I take it, mid-swallow.
Shit! Too late.
I’ve just popped my cum-swallowing cherry and by accident too. “I really have to go,” I strain, barely able to speak.
Wesley moves toward my legs, positioning himself in between them. “I’m not finished.”
“But you came. In my mouth…” I softy laugh. “I really need to go.”
He pushes my thighs apart, causing me to yelp, running his tongue around my clit. “I said, I’m not finished.”
My head falls back into the pillow, defeated, but with a massive smile on my face.
When it comes to Wesley Rich, it’s impossible to say no.
***
My fingers cramp as I struggle to capture all the key points Emerson’s telling us.
“There’s Kimmel tomorrow night. Thankfully, local.” She signs a document while talking, handing it over to me. “Interviews lined up with some magazines in New York, which means I need a few outfits for the city since I heard a cold snap is about to hit the East Coast.”
Aurora, Emerson’s stylist, points to her iPad with an enthusiastic smile, her red-framed glasses matching her shade of lipstick. Unlike Sonia, Aurora is great to work with. She has this sense of style, lives and breathes fashion, and is half-Korean like me.
“Burgundy is sooo in right now. I’d love to see you in a burgundy cashmere coat coupled with some black patent boots,” she sings with excitement, hugging her iPad.
“I’ll leave it with you.” Emerson laughs. “Then the week after next, we have Vancouver. Are you all right to join me on that trip along with New York?”
“Of course,” I tell her, guilt flooding me that I’m lying to her about Wesley.
I know there’s a time and place to admit the truth, and now is not that time.
Although Wesley and I agree to be in a relationship, we’ve barely spoken about anything aside from our exchange of words during sex. I’d be lying if I don’t admit that what I read online piques my curiosity or that woman from last night. After meeting his mother, Gina, I don’t quite understand the dynamic of their relationship. Again, questions linger and need some sort of answer.
And then there’s the possibility that our relationship will leak out to the public. So far, paparazzi haven’t followed me anywhere. Wesley has warned me how cunning they can be and to always be on guard for many of the things that come attached to the name Wesley Rich.
Emerson continues to tell us about a few more events, meetings, and upcoming trips she has planned for the next few months. I take a sip of my coffee, welcoming the warm liquid while waiting impatiently for it to kick in and give me that much-needed boost.
Last night took it all out of me. So far, during this meeting, I’ve been able to manage somehow to hold in every single yawn. I have no doubt I will sleep like a baby tonight and welcome the solace to gain some perspective on the last twenty-four hours.
The day drags on and every minute becomes harder to get through. Emerson has a ton of energy today, bouncing ideas and demanding some input. It’s great, I shouldn’t complain, but the exhaustion becomes too much, and by the time we call it a day I want to cry with relief.
“Oh, one more thing,” she says while grabbing her keys. “I have a meeting with Wesley tomorrow. I would prefer it if you don’t mention anything to Logan. It’s best I keep it on the down-low.”
