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I pull out, breathless, rocking back up onto my knees again. I quickly pull off the condom and my hand curls around the base of my cock, jerking upwards. It’s not nearly as good as being inside of her, but I’m so close to the edge that it doesn’t actually matter. One, two rolls of the hip up into the grip of my palm—before I’m spilling onto her.
Thick ropes of translucent seed spills onto the curve of Ashley’s lower belly, splattering up onto the hem of lavender nighty. An errant strand of it lands on one of her exposed nipples. She lays there, wide-eyed and panting, almost stunned by the sight.
But fuck, I know that I’ll be thinking about it the next time that I get myself off in the shower.
Letting go of myself, I reach out and use my thumb to swipe the splatter of cum off her tit. Without thinking, I wipe my cum covered thumb off on her lower lip. Ashley lets out a heavy breath, the pink of her tongue flashing out to swipe it in, almost instinctual.
Her nose wrinkles at the bitter tang, just a little bit, and I laugh. It doesn’t break the moment, though. If anything, it makes everything feel better, more pieced together, like this is exactly how we’re supposed to be.
I use my mouth to lick off the rest relishing in having her perky tit in my mouth for the first time. Then I kiss her again—just as passionate but so much softer than I had been. There are no teeth this time, just the swipe of my tongue over her own, a slow mingling as we both come down from the high.
I lay down on the bed next to her, pulling Ashley up against my side. She rolls over, pressing herself against me. One arm curls over my stomach, so that her palm can press against my ribs. Her head rests against my shoulder, a blissed-out, exhausted expression on her face.
I can’t help but ask, only half joking, “Good as you had been expecting?”
Because it’s her first time. And sure, maybe it’s just the fact that I’m kind of a prideful guy—I want it to have an impact on her.
Ashley’s eyes crack open, just a little, and she tells me, softly, “Even better.”
Even better. Alright. It sounds like I gave her one hell of a show for her first time. I can live with that. And if there’s a second time, I know that I’ll be able to give her one that’s even better.
Next time.
Just the thought of it is enough to make my interest flare up. If there’s any chance of having a second round with her, I know that I’m going to jump at it. I would be an idiot if I didn’t.
The tips of my fingers run lightly over her back, between her shoulders, just beneath one of them. Honestly, I don’t know if this is going to change our relationship with each other. I don’t know if this is going to make it harder or easier to pretend that we’re going to get married.
Where does the line of pretending to be in love with each other even end now, huh?
But I do know this: for the moment, at least, I don’t feel like it actually matters.
For the moment, I’m just happy to lay here with Ashley and simply exist.
Chapter fourteen
Ashley
I’mexpectingeverythingtobe awkward in the morning, but it’s not. We have coffee out on the balcony, and Grant talks a little bit about how things have been going with his father and his brother. But we don’t actually discuss what happened the night before—besides for him checking in and making sure I felt okay when we woke up.
Which is great, you know? I don’t know what I’m supposed to say about it. I liked it. I really, really liked it. And I like Grant a lot, too.
Soon, we’re both getting dressed and heading downstairs, back out into the same hotel restaurant where we’ve been having every breakfast. Don and Cheryl are already there, though there’s no sign of Charlie.
Cheryl asks, “Sleep well?”
“Yes,” I tell her. And then, “Do you think that the meeting will run as late today as it did yesterday?”
Don hums. “I hope not.”
“He only hopes that it doesn’t because I chewed his ear off. Coming in at midnight,” says Cheryl. “He knows better. That wasn’t acceptable twenty years ago, and it certainly isn’t acceptable now. You need to start acting your age, Don. You need sleep.”
“Don’t do this at the breakfast table,” Don tells her, with the weary sigh of someone that has to listen to this a lot. I wonder if Cheryl is part of the reason why the CEO position is up for grabs. That might be part of why Don is so reluctant to decide which of his boys gets it. He wants to be certain that one of them is truly ready, but maybe he’s also not quite ready to let it go.
“Then don’t make bad life choices,” Cheryl chides. Breakfast arrives. I’ve gotten a plate of the full spread, with scrambled eggs and sausage links, and roasted tomatoes on the side.
Don looks around. “Where’s Charlie?” He grumbles.
“I don’t know,” Grant says, with a shake of the head. “I don’t know what his problem was last night.”
