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The tight sheath stretched to receive him this time, the pleasure becoming so intense as he filled her, it was almost pain.
He rocked out, thrust back, ruthlessly stroking the spot he had found a week ago, working her into a frenzy of need. The orgasm exploded from her core this time, in shattering waves of sensation.
The desperate pants, the moaning sobs turned to hoarse cries of agony and then ecstasy as the wave crashed over her.
He grunted, and hot seed exploded inside her.
He groaned and collapsed on top of her.
She held him, her fingers shaking. Her body drifting in afterglow as her lungs seemed to collapse in her chest.
Why was she struggling to breathe? She’d climaxed. The sex was as good if not better than their first time.
He groaned and rolled off her, easing the still large erection out of her with some difficulty.
‘I forgot to ask,’ he said. ‘Are you on the pill?’
The tightness in his voice made the breath thicken in her lungs.
‘Yes.’
‘Dieu merci,’ he whispered, his relief palpable.
Thank God.
It was one of the stipulations in the contract she’d signed. He’d provided a detailed medical report to prove it would be safe for them to have unprotected sex, but had requested that if she agreed to a sexual relationship with him, she would also arrange oral contraception.
The clause had made sense to her at the time she’d signed it. Neither of them wanted an accident. Risking bringing a child into a situation like theirs would be disastrous—but as she lay beside him, the scent of sex and sweat surrounding them, his question had an odd shaft of melancholy rippling through her tired body.
Because it reinforced the limits of this relationship.
Not that she needed to have them reinforced.
She looked away from him, towards the wall of windows that looked out onto the famous skyline. The sun had started to set, adding a romantic glow to the silhouettes of the Empire State and the Chrysler Building and the cluster of other skyscrapers to the north she couldn’t identify.
Get it together, Alison. It’s not cynical to be on the pill—it’s smart.
She listened to him get off the bed and disappear into the bathroom; the lock clicked.
When he returned a few minutes later, she had managed to drag her exhausted body under the sheets.
He wore a robe, but still the glimpse of washboard abs had the traitorous pheromones skittering back into her tender sex
.
But she yawned, as the exhaustion of the flight, and everything that had happened since she had arrived, began to claim her.
‘You should get some sleep,’ he said, but the suggestion seemed strangely impersonal. ‘You can stay in here and I’ll pick one of the other bedrooms.’
What? They weren’t going to share a bedroom?
A silly wobble of emotion tightened around her throat, but she didn’t protest as she watched him gather a few pieces of clothing from the dresser drawers.
‘I’ll get the staff to reorganise our belongings tomorrow,’ he said.
‘You don’t have to give up your bedroom,’ she said, feeling stupidly bereft.
‘Not a problem,’ he said. Then strode back to the bed, leant down and kissed her forehead. The wobble intensified. ‘Make yourself at home,’ he added. ‘Manny the doorman can order you in any food you want—just dial zero on the interlink. He can also arrange a car and driver if you want to go sightseeing or shopping tomorrow.’
