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My nails dug into the couch, and I stared at the cum-filled tip of the condom as he slowly got up, his eyes still on me. He studied my nakedness from head to toe, refusing to break his gaze even as I drew my legs to my chest and got up.
“Sara.”
His voice was back to steady as I rushed to get dressed. I tossed him a hurried smile, though I knew I wasn’t fooling him. Something was bothering me. He knew that.
But I myself didn’t know what it was.
All I knew was that while I had wanted to be fucked, Julian had done something a little more than fuck me just now. And despite the hot, full-body pleasure I was still very much reeling from, I was suddenly feeling a bit lost, with not a single clue how to feel.
12
JULIAN
It was Sunday, and I had to clear my head before I left to meet them.
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My hope was that this would help.
Leaning back in my chair, I tilted my head down. My neck was rigid as my gaze traveled over my flinching pecs, my palm running over my clenching abs as I felt myself getting closer.
Like the one at Hoult Tower, the office in my TriBeCa loft was located at the highest point of the building, in a sky-lit room with walls of windows facing both south and west. My chair was turned toward them as I sat with my legs wide, and my thighs flexing as I jacked my cock at a furious pace.
I was still thinking about her.
I couldn’t stop.
Fucking generally helped in these situations, but apparently, this one was an outlier, and I probably should have guessed it would be.
I’d fantasized about Sara at length for almost two weeks after we met. The explicit images started the second I laid eyes on her, and they continued onto her first day of work. After what we did in the elevator, I’d closed the door of my office and jerked off like an animal in a three thousand dollar suit.
In short, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about how incredibly good it would feel to fuck her.
But combined, none of those fantasies came close to how good it actually was.
Her pussy was so tight but eager, a perfect fit for my cock. I could have taken her again on Friday – all night, if she had let me. But she wound up doing what no woman had ever done to me after sex, and that was volunteer to leave. I had gotten another taste of her mouth and the sweet little spot under her jaw before she rushed out with her lips swollen, her bra on my floor, and the buttons barely done on her shirt.
Yet another image for me to get hard over.
“Fuck.”
I rolled my head back, my every muscle flexed tight till the second I pumped thick jets of cum from my tip, catching them in her panties. Breathing hard, I held the deep frown in my brow as I tipped my head forward again to stare down at my handiwork. Ropes of thick white on her fine, black silk.
God, I wanted to cum on her. Inside her.
I wanted to rub myself into her skin and watch it shine under light.
Now that I’d had her, the fantasies had only multiplied, and for fuck’s sake, I couldn’t afford that – especially not today. For that reason, I was almost thankful when about ten minutes later, as I was standing in my closet, Emmett called.
“What?” I answered.
“Think it’s cool if I bring a girl again this week?”
“No. I think it’s cruel, actually.”
“To who? The girl?” Emmett asked. In the background, I could hear him making his first protein shake of the day. “Or Mom?”
“Mom. You’re teasing her with the idea of marriage despite the fact that we all know you’re going to take another fifteen to twenty years for that.”
