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I pull her up by the hair. She bites her lip as she stands in front of me and gives me a naughty wink. She is the epitome of physical perfection. Her breasts are firm and supple. Her curves are soft and feminine, luring in anybody who dared to look for too long.
I take a step towards her, eliminating the distance between our warm bodies. I want her. As I lean in closer, I lift her chin up with a finger. Our noses brush against each other, our breaths mingling.
One gentle hand on her abdomen is all it takes to push her onto the bed. Her legs fall open for me, her lips curving into an enticing smile. One of her hands caresses her breast, toying the with stiff peak as her other hands disappears between her legs. She teases herself, looking at me with nothing but lust in her eyes.
“Oh, now you’ve done it,” I say, smiling as I toss my shirt to the floor.
She laughs as I pull her by her legs to the edge of the bed. The laugh turns into a soft hiss as I enter her, standing by the edge of the bed. Her body rises to meet mine. Her breasts are pressing against my chest as she wraps her arms around my neck.
My lips trace the outline of her lips as I slowly push myself deeper into her.
“Mmm, I love the way you kiss me,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Our mouths move together in a sensual kiss, equal parts teasing and want. Our bodies are wrapped around each other as my hands trace the curve of her back. Her tongue tangles with mine as I grip her hips.
As I pick up the pace, she begins to hiss and moan louder. When she bites my lower lip and sucks it, I pick her up from the bed in my embrace. I carry her and slam her back into the wall. It is getting wilder and dirtier each time her back hits the wall with every thrust. My hips move harder and faster. She pulls my hair, her legs crossed around my back.
Her long nails are scratching my shoulders and my back. I don’t care. I brace my hands against the wall and thrust faster. She is wildly biting my neck and chest. Her body is radiating waves of heat and I want to drown in it. Her flowery scent is overwhelming, wrapping around me and taking away every single ounce of my control.
“Yes!” she shouts as I drive into her faster. “Teach me a lesson. Show me who’s the boss. Yes!”
I’m the boss. I want to take over her body, take over her entire soul. I carry her over to the bed and slam her on it. She looks at me from behind the curtains of her messy hair. I turn her over and kneel on the bed behind her.
There is no waiting. No pause. No slow build. I enter her again and hold her by the waist, giving her fast and deep thrusts. My hand crawls down her belly between her legs. She gasps with pleasure as I toy with her. I pull her hair with my other hand.
The room echoes with the repeated slaps of our bodies, her moans, and my soft grunts.
“Harder, Parker,” she moans. “Harder, harder, harder…”
I’m in no mood to be gentle. My hand vigorously strokes between her legs. She buries her face in the nearest pillow as her body shudders. She squeezes around me hard as an intense orgasm rolls through her body. I don’t stop. I’m about to climax as well. She falls on the bed when she is done and I press her head into the pillow as I give her the final few thrusts and finally explode inside her.
We stay like that for a moment. She is breathing hard as I’m coming back to my senses. I pull away from her and fall back onto the bed, completely spent.
She looks up at me, her cheeks rosy, a playful smile curling her lips. “Oh Parker, you satisfy me like no other.”
I smile back at her and move a strand of hair from her face.
Her hair is a mess and she walks over to the mirror to fix it. I take a moment to appreciate the sight of her naked form, the curves and lines of her body so familiar to me.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I reach for it.
Brittany turns to me, her eyebrows furrowing. "Who is it?"
I take a look at the screen. "It’s Peter. He just sent me the line-up of designers for the New York Fashion Week."
“Oh,” she says distractedly, too busy fixing her make-up to fully listen.
As I scroll through the list, I see a name that makes me do a double-take. Penny Gould. I know her. She is the sister of my best friend, Grayson Gould.
She’s the same girl I used to tease in high school. The thought of seeing her again fills me with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
I can't help but feel a pang of guilt. I know I had been a jerk to her back then and the thought of facing her again makes me nervous. I had a lot of making up to do if I wanted to redeem myself.
But the excitement of seeing her again is too much to ignore. I have always been curious about what happened to her, where life had taken her. And now, here she is, at the New York Fashion Week, making a name for herself in the fashion world.
I feel a sense of pride and admiration for her, even though I don't deserve to feel either. I can't wait to see her designs and catch up with her, to apologize for my past mistakes and see if there was a chance for us to start over.
I know this encounter with Penny will be a defining moment for me, and I’m determined to make the most of it.
