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“Good girl,” he breathed, dropping to his knees. I didn’t fight him as he spread my legs, didn’t make a sound as his fingers spread me open. “There it is, Lydia, all ready for me. I wish you could see how beautiful your sweet little piss-slit is.” He wriggled his tongue against me, digging at a hole way too small to penetrate.
“Please, James, I can’t hold it,” I gasped, screwing my eyes shut.
“Look at me, Lydia.” His tone was hard, insistent. I looked down. “I want this.”
My body made my decision for me, caving under the pressure. The first rush of fluid spilled out without warning, and his mouth was on me, a primitive grunt sounding loud from the back of his throat.
“More,” he groaned. “Give me more.”
I moaned as the surge erupted, relief humming right through me, and once I started I couldn’t stop, not even if I’d tried. He kept his eyes on mine as he drank from me, swallowing some down, and spitting the rest back up to dribble down his chin. It felt so fucking wrong; it felt so dirty, and humiliating, and bad, and seedy, but so fucking amazing. It felt like bliss, the ultimate release, the most beautifully fucking filthy thing I’d ever done in my life.
“Oh my God,” I wheezed. “Oh my fucking God.” My legs trembled, knees buckling, but he held me in a vice, sliding three fingers inside me mid flow. He pumped me as I gushed for him, and it felt so right. It felt so fucking right.
He didn’t stop, not even when I was spent and euphoric, pressed against the tiles like my life depended on it. He sucked on my clit, moaning and grunting and hissing out words of endearment that made no fucking sense. White heat exploded behind my eyes, the grip of orgasm ripping right through me. I bucked against him, screaming his name,bothhis names, and he didn’t seem to care, burying his face in my pussy like I was salvation personified. I came down slowly, and let myself drop into his arms. His mouth tasted bitter, but I was past caring, lost in everything he had to give.
“My turn,” he moaned. “Do you want me?”
I didn’t register even the slightest shock, immune to any deviant thrill his mind could conceive. “In my mouth?” I asked. “Is that what you want?”
“Not today,” he smiled. He got to his feet pulling me with him. “Spread your legs wide for me, that’s my girl, show me your beautiful clit.”
“Ok,” I breathed, pulling myself open. “Whatever you want, Masque, do it, fucking do it!”
“Watch, Lydia, watch how fucking wonderful this is.”
He worked his cock in his hand, hard and ripe and so fucking big. I shuddered as he began to go, a short, sharp burst at first, before he picked up a steady flow. He aimed his dirty yellow jet straight for my clit, and I moaned like a whore as he hit the spot. “Yes,” he hissed. “Dirty girl, getting off on my filthy fucking piss.”
“It feels so fucking wrong,” I groaned. “So wrong.” I reached for his cock, mashing him tight against me, until his hot golden river splashed all the way down my thighs. “Don’t stop,” I hissed. “Please don’t fucking stop.”
“That’s my girl,” he breathed. “That’s my beautiful dirty girl.” He groaned as he finished, squeezing the base of his cock tight. “Taste me, Lydia, get on your knees and taste me.” I dropped down onto the wet floor, heart racing, and there, soaking wet and kneeling in his filth, I let my walls come down. I opened my mouth, gagging for just a moment as he slipped his filthy wet meat between my lips. “Fuck,” he hissed. “That’s right, that’s fucking right. Suck me clean, Lydia. I want to cum in your tight little cunt, all the way inside you.”
I moaned around his cock, delirious and lost, right the way until he pulled himself out of me. He flicked on a shower without warning, and I squealed as a cold jet of spray soaked us both. He pulled me to my feet, angling my face into the jet until I was spluttering cold water, then raised me further still until my legs wrapped tight around his waist and his cock buried all the way inside me. I gripped onto his shoulders, dragging myself up and down his chest, and the friction of his skin against mine felt so fucking good.
I rode him hard until he tumbled over the edge, bucking, and groaning and jerking his hips up against me. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck, peppering his face with kisses, and all the while he cried my name. It was the sweetest sound in the world.
When he was all done he lowered us to the floor, pulling me to rest on top of him in a mess of endorphins and tangled limbs. The water turned itself off, gurgling to nothing, and I lay spent and helpless in his arms.
“James,” I breathed. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
He kissed my forehead. “I know.”
“I mean it,” I whispered. “I’ve never felt like this.”
He tilted my face up to his, eyes warm. “If we say it, that’s it, Lydia, a whole new ballgame. You can’t undo the words, they change everything. Is that what you want?”
I silenced myself with his tongue until the urge subsided.
***
Chapter Sixteen
James
Things really fucking escalated quickly. I felt edgy at work, disjointed. Haunted by the memory of all that had been before. I tried to push it aside, remind myself that Lydia Marsh was nothing like Rachel, nothing at all. Her life wasn’t consumed by the quest for attention, the temporary fix at the hands of strange men. Lydia was a different animal. Aniceranimal. One I could rely on for discretion, who wouldn’t sell me out down the river of sensationalism, or so I hoped. I figured she was worth the risk, she had to be worth the risk.
My nerves were appeased as she presented me with the latest Salmons update, her tone curt and professional, as always. Her eyes lingered on mine for just a moment, then calmly returned to the realm of professional colleagues. She handed me a printout of development updates with just a fleeting smile. It was me who broke protocol, reaching out to clamp her wrist in my hand, and gliding my thumb across her knuckles. She stared in shock, tense and uncertain, as though I’d gone completely barking mad.
I slumped in my chair as she took a seat opposite.
