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Leland strokes his hand over me, and he says, “I’m thinking this might be one of those banquets. You’re divine. But I’m going to need some time to recover. Room service?”
I jerk in his arms, the last thing I want is someone I know coming in here.
So, I roll over and shrug. “It’s late.”
“It’s one of the perks of an expensive suite. They’ll bring you things late. But I’m thinking this is part of your story you’re not telling. There is, however, a mini bar.”
He gets up, and I admire that firm ass as he heads for the bar, returning with snacks and teeny bottles.
“Do you want to know?”
“Not really. Your story is your story, and if you want to talk, you will.” Leland hands me some fancy mixed nuts, a box of chocolates that are handmade in the area, and some chips. Then he gets back on the bed and dumps small bottles of bourbon and whiskey down. “I’m just curious. A bad lawyer habit.”
He’s completely at ease as I tuck the sheet around me, and we snack and chat about his trip and the fact he lives in a small town. He tells me he prefers Belgium to Paris and London to New York.
That voice has a hypnotic quality that steals breath and eases the wrong sort of tension while building up the good one.
“I’ve never been overseas,” I say, picking at a spot on the sheet.
“But someone else had?”
I nod before I remember I’m Sadie, and I feel like I’ve somehow taken some of the shine I lacquered on with my private role-play. “My ex. He’d travel but didn’t take me.”
He tugs gently at the sheet, exposing my breasts, and his fingers whisper over my skin. “Then he was a fucking idiot. If you were mine, I wouldn’t leave you behind. I know the kind of guys out there who’d snap you up.”
“Like you?”
He laughs. “Like me.”
“Do . . . do you do this often?”
Leland opens a bourbon, considers it, and offers it to me. I down it, spluttering and relishing the burn. He picks up another and drinks that. “Do you really want to know?”
“I . . .” Do I? It’s not like he’s going to be my boyfriend.
I’m not looking for a boyfriend or another relationship. Even if he lived in this town, I’d sleep with him again, I know that.
“I love women, and I’m not the marrying kind, Sadie. And I’m not done with you.”
With that, he pushes everything off the bed and kisses me.
He pulls me on his lap, my legs either side of him, and he’s big, there, hard, the tip of his cock against my pussy.
Leland takes me like that, a slow fuck that gets wilder with each thrust, each bounce on him, and then he pulls me off, taking me from behind, my ass in the air.
It’s all a wild ride of sex and laughter, of intense moments where we’re all that matters in the world, this cocoon we make in each other.
Later, much later, maybe the next day—he’s put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door and the blinds are shut, so it’s been dozing, sex, repeat—we’re on the sofa, watching a movie like old lovers, when I take him in my mouth. He doesn’t ask, but I need him, I need his cock. I need to taste him.
He’s hot, hard, the skin soft over that steel, and the bead of precum I trace my finger through is salty sweet as I raise my hand to my mouth and suck that finger. His eyes are locked on my movements, and he doesn’t reach for me like I expect. Just waits.
There’s a coil of lust that wraps about me as I lick him, then take him in my mouth, working my tongue over him. He’s a tough fit because he’s big. When I manage to get him deep, hitting the back of my throat, he hisses and groans as he lets me explore and work him.
The moment I start to caress his balls, they grow tight and something breaks in him. He grips my hair to the scalp but still lets me do what I want. He’s losing his control, though, and the power he’s handed me is an aphrodisiac.
“More.” He hisses out the word. “Fuck. Harder. Deeper, Sadie. Suck my cock. Show me how much you want me to fuck your mouth.”
And that breaks something in me too. I go down to the root, and I can’t breathe. He starts working me, pushing me down,holding me, and I’m burning, my clit throbbing, everything aching. I want him to come. I want his cum.
