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He pulled out of me, making me whimper, and then he made me face him once again. Immediately burying himself inside of me, he stared into my eyes—slowly sliding his c**k back and forth, suffocating my screams with his mouth.
I felt his c**k throbbing inside of me, felt my muscles clenching as he cursed against my lips and as we locked eyes again, we both came at the same time.
I fell forward against his chest, panting. “Andrew, I…”
He cut me off with a kiss. “I love you, too…”
We lay there connected for what felt like forever—him threading his fingers through my hair, me rubbing my hands against his chest.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes…”
He rolled out of bed and stood up to toss away the condom. “Come here.”
I couldn’t move. I was still feeling weak from my last orgasm.
He shook his head and slipped his hands underneath my thighs, picking me up and carrying me out of the room, checking each door we passed. When we reached the bathroom, he set me down on the floor.
“I don’t think I can stand up long enough for a shower…” I whispered.
He ignored me and turned on the water. “We’re not going to take a shower.” He picked me up and gently placed me into the tub.
Climbing in behind me, he grabbed an empty bottle and filled it with warm water. Then he gently poured it over my head.
He grabbed some shampoo from the ledge and squirted a few drops into my hair, lathering it to suds.
I heard him asking me questions, something about how I was feeling or if I wanted to talk to him about whatever I had on my mind, but as his fingers continued to massage my scalp, everything went black.
I woke up in bed alone.
There was no note from Andrew, and all of his clothes were gone.
I was starting to think having sex with him was all a dream, but I spotted his wallet sitting on top of my nightstand. I pulled the covers off of me and smiled once I saw that he’d dressed me in a silk slip.
I made my way out of the room and down the hallway where he was standing out on my balcony smoking a cigar.
“Since when do you smoke?” I stepped behind him.
“I don’t often,” he said. “Only when I need to think.”
I nodded and looked out into the night sky, but I suddenly felt him pulling me against him.
“Aren’t you going to ask what I’m thinking about?” He smirked. “Surely you have questions.”
“I do, Liam.”
“We can talk about it.”
“Now?”
“If that’s what you want…” He put out his cigar and walked me over to a chair, pulling me into his lap. “How long have you known about that?”
“A couple weeks…”
“Hmmm.”
I shook my head. “Do Bach and Greenwood know who you really are?”
