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I lick my lips, and the slight peach taste of my lip gloss coats my tongue. Rémy sets his glass down and keeps his eyes on me. The bar is literally between us, but I’ve never felt chemistry like this. Not ever. It’s . . . unexplainable. My palms grow sweaty and I bite my lip.
Rémy clears his throat as he makes his way around the bar. “I shouldn’t be here right now. I shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea.”
I stay seated and turn my neck to keep my eyes on him. “You shouldn’t be doing what exactly?”
Rémy gets within a few inches of me, and he’s so close every time he breathes, his breath hits the side of my cheek. He grabs onto the barstool, turns me to completely face him, and stares deeply into my eyes. “This,” is what he says before his harsh lips collide with mine. As much as I’ve been hoping for this, I’m a little caught off guard at how forward he’s being.
Still, I wrap my arms around his neck, and he deepens our kiss. His tongue crashes with mine, and I inhale sharply as we both keep moving. While his kiss is rough, his hands on my body are delicate. Rémy pulls me up into his strong arms, and I wrap my legs around his hips. His hardness presses against my center, and I gasp. I’m sure of it now. He wants me. He really wants to do this.
“I know I should stop,” he tells me while he breaks our kiss. His tone comes out in a low grumble and he scans his eyes over my body. It’s hot, every movement of his eyes, every caress of his fingertips along my skin.
Looking right into his eyes, I tell him the truth. “I don’t want you to stop. I want you to fuck me.”
Rémy snickers and hooks his fingers under my shorts that I changed into after he came into the dressing area. He yanks them down until one is barely hanging off one foot. He unzips his pants, pulls out his cock, and lines himself at my entrance. He’s thick like a tree limb, but I’ll take it. I need this to happen. I need it so fucking badly.
“I shouldn’t be doing this.” It’s like he’s having an internal battle with himself.
I grab onto his tie and yank him forward. I glare into his eyes. “If you won’t fuck me, then I’ll go find someone who actually will.” I’m bluffing, of course, but I want to make him angry. I want to make him furious.
Rémy drives his cock into me, and I cry out from the impact. My pussy stretches wide for his cock, and soon he’s drilling into me so hard my shoulder blades are grinding against the wooden bartop.
I stare at the globe light fixtures ahead and my core ignites like a wildfire. With every thrust, I’m burning more and more, even closer to the edge. Rémy groans, and the vein on his forehead pulsates. We’re both so close and I know it. My pussy tightens around his cock, and his thrusting gets even harder. Every time he moves an inch, hell even a millimeter, the sensation floods through every limb.
“Rémy, fuck!” I scream and dig my nails into his back. He growls out his release and stills inside me. Thank goodness I’m on birth control. We stay like this for a couple minutes before he pulls out of me, tucks his cock back into his pants, and looks right at me.
“I might just have to come back for round two,” Rémy tells me with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
I slide off the bar, drop down to my knees in front of him and unzip his pants. “Why come back when we can start again?”
I slide my hand into his pants, pull out his semi-hard cock, and pump it a good couple of times. It grows larger and harder, and I open my mouth and take it in. He groans, grabs ahold of my hair with his hands, and chuckles.
“Fuck, you’re a dream woman.”
