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He stopped, his fingers gripping her fleshy buttocks before he slapped each cheek lightly. “More?” he asked, his voice thick with pleasure.
He really is a quick learner. Not perfect. But better. Shit.
She nodded eagerly, raising her face from the glass to look over at the lit fire as he pounded away again. “Slow it down, Lo,” she advised. “And reach around me to play with my clit while you do.”
He quickly obeyed.
She released a whimper and balled her hands into fists atop the glass.
Slow and with a devastating pace, Loren worked his hips to glide in and out of her. He bent his body over hers and licked at her shoulder and upper back.
A little too wet, but I’ll tell him that later.
She arched her back, raising her buttocks and her core for him.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
“Put your thumb in,” she gasped, wanting him to.
“Huh?” he asked, stopping his glide.
He’s not ready, and that’s low-level freaky.
“Nothing,” she said, working her hips to pull downward on his hardness.
He moaned deeply.
Cha-ching. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.
She almost didn’t hear her phone, and she almost wished she hadn’t.
Damn.
“I gotta get that, Lo,” she said.
“Fuck that phone,” he said, stroking away.
She almost agreed, but there was too much at risk not to answer.
Cha-ching. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.
She pushed back against him with her buttocks to get room and then rose, feeling his hardness slide out of her.
“Ms. Smith,” he moaned in disappointment.
She padded over to her phones on the charging station in the kitchen. She unplugged her business phone and walked toward her bedroom as she answered. “Yes.”
“Mademoiselle, he slapped me. I don’t know if he is high or crazy or what, but he hit me. He fuckinghitme.”
“Chelsea,” she said, forgetting to use her moniker of Choc—short for chocolate.
Get it together, Desdemona.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and paced. “Choc, are you hurt? Where are you? Where is he?” she asked, her words rushed and almost colliding with one another.
The line disconnected. She called her prepaid phone back three times. No answer. She gripped the phone tightly and growled in frustration, feeling some of those metaphorical balls she kept in the air crash.
She headed back into the living space. She paused in the entryway at the enticing sight of Loren sitting on the sofa with the darkness broken up by the warm glow of the lit fire. She wanted nothing more than to rejoin him and claim the heated spot where they left off.
