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She moans and her head falls back, and the movement pushes her breasts out in a way that I have to reach up to grip them in my hands.
Her hips move then, her body giving in to the pleasure that sits before us.
“Yes,” I nearly growl as I watch her in action. Watch her make herself feel good. Watch her ride me in a way that’s hotter, sexier, more mind-blowing than any fantasy my mind has ever been able to come up with.
I don’t know what the consequences of the morning will bring, but I know I won’t regret this.
I know this because, even as I can feel her around me, feel the way she pulses with each thrust of my cock, feel the impending climax this will bring, I know this won’t be enough.
I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough.
Saturday, October 12th
Maria
I startle at the sound of two sharp buzzes from my nightstand, my eyes flicking open dramatically before closing again in an instant.
Ugh, gah. Why is it so freaking bright?
I rub at my eyes then, willing them to work and adjust as I open them to small slivers and take stock of the room.
The covers on my bed are on but disheveled, and the curtains I normally close are wide open. Hence, the overbearing sunlight, I suppose.
My head feels like it weighs approximately one million pounds, and my stomach turns over on itself more than once. Several city salt trucks must have dumped their loads on my tongue too.
Tequila. Yuck.
I shift slightly again before coming to the realization that I have no fucking clothes on whatsoever, and then I glance to my left before doing a double take.
My gasp is audible. “Oh, holy shit,” I whisper, my gaze snagging on a sleeping—also nude—Remy.
He’s not even under the blanket, for goodness’ sake.
Without taking my eyes off him—okay, without taking my eyes off his penis—I hold the comforter to my chest with one hand and reach back for my phone on its dock charger with the other.
It pops off the magnet easily, but I have to bring it fully into my vision—directly between myself and Remy’s member—in order to look at it. I mean, damn. That beautiful, giant thing was inside me last night.
Twice, my mind reminds me.
My breathing escalates at just the thought. Evidently, despite my very best intentions and my drunken, orgasm-blurred confidence of last night, I’m actually not emotionally prepared to handle the situation like a full-blown adult.
Oh my God! Remy and I slept together last night. But, like, without the sleeping. Holy, holy shit.
My mind continues to taunt me, reminding me of last night’s events in flashes of visuals that are most definitely NSFW.
His head between my legs as he sucked and licked and tasted me.
The heady look in his eyes when he slid himself inside me.
The way he practically growled “I need to be inside you again” when he woke me up in the middle of the night.
It’s all so much and too much at the same time, and I force my vision to tunnel on my phone once again as a distraction.
“Oh no,” I mutter, a new text message notification only adding to my anxiety.
Any message from Claudia this early is the first sign of bad news, but when I tap the screen to read its contents, things only get worse.
Claudia: So, I think I forgot to tell you last night that I got the showing rescheduled to this morning. 8:00 a.m. sharp.
Eight a.m.? I glance frantically at the time. It’s almost forty after seven right now!
The Blakely family isn’t one you just cancel on twice. The Blakely family owns a third of the available freaking real estate in Nassau County! Getting in on the ground floor of their wanting to expand their portfolio in Manhattan is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
And Conrad Blakely isn’t the type of man that tolerates bullshit.
Claudia has hung me out to dry with them twice now. Actually, three times, really! Because anytime anyone overshares about the shits, it counts for double.
I jump from the bed, thoughts of both termination and murder swirling in a completely psychotic mix inside me. Oh yes. A brutal, torturous, messy murder. Guantanamo Bay will have nothing on me when I get my hands on Claudia after this.
I’m never going to make it on time, and if I do, I’m going to look like I just got out of an intense laundry spin cycle.
“Shit! Shit!” I yell, scrambling from one side of the room to the other without even focusing on anything. I don’t know where to go first, what to do.
At the sounds of my frantic voice, Remy sits up ramrod straight in bed, and a whole other wave of panic washes over me. His…his penis…it’s sitting up straight too.
Okay, universe, one crisis at a time, please!
