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Except, he knew how to play my body. He knew how to get what he wanted.
And that was my orgasm.
Just when I thought that he was going to keep pressing, he pulled back, letting up on his breach of my ass with his finger.
I released a breath I hadn’t been aware that I was holding and started to slam myself down onto him.
I was close.
Let’s face it, I liked how he played my body, doing what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it. I wanted more. I wanted it all. I wanted this forever.
“I am about to come,” I announced, my eyes squeezing closed and my hands clenching on his muscular shoulders.
He growled something in my ear, and just when I was about to fall over the edge, my body leaning over all nice and easylike, his finger pressed all the way inside my ass.
I screamed as I was all but launched over the side, barreling so fast into my orgasm that I was disoriented and lost.
Sensations screamed through me, and tiny little dots danced behind my closed eyelids.
My fingers dug into his skin, and he grunted in surprise.
“Fuck me,” he growled.
Then he was coming too.
He grunted and thrust, and soon I was being filled with his seed. I could actually feel it splashing inside of me. Something I’d never been able to feel before.
It was…surreal. And everything I never knew I needed when it came to Davis rolled all into one huge package.
Long seconds went by as we both came down from our orgasmic highs.
My knees started to ache with how they were pressed into the counter, and I knew that he had to be just as uncomfortable. Yet, he didn’t say a word, nor move for that matter. All he did was hold me insanely tight.
It took me a moment to realize that his fingers were splayed on my back, nowhere near my butt crack.
“You’re wiping butt juices on my back,” I muttered against his shoulder.
He snorted. “You’ll live. They’re on my finger, too.”
“They wouldn’t have been on your finger if you’d kept that finger out of my butt,” I countered.
He laughed and leaned forward, taking me with him.
I shrieked when I found myself staring at the door and not the wall beside my bathroom anymore.
“What the hell, Davis?” I laughed while beating on his chest.
He didn’t let me go. Not until all the blood had rushed to my head.
Only when I was dizzy and laughing hysterically did he set me back up and say, “What are you doing today?”
I shifted my legs together, feeling the uncomfortable wetness there.
Then went and turned the shower back on.
He walked to the toilet and grabbed some toilet paper to clean himself off while he watched me climb back into the shower to wipe myself clean.
Only when I was done did I answer his earlier question.
“I don’t have anything planned,” I admitted. “Other than looking for locations for my business, I am free and easy.”
He tilted his head. “I already told you that you could work beside me.”
He had.
And I wasn’t sure that I wanted to.
I mean, let’s be honest. I didn’t see this thing between him and me working out.
“What if you decide you don’t like me anymore and want to raise my rent over five thousand dollars more than I can afford?” I teased.
“One, that’s illegal.” He shrugged. “Two, you’d have a rental agreement just like anyone else. Three, I doubt that I will get rid of you anytime soon and stop liking you. I kind of like fucking you anytime I want. Getting you angry with me will mean less of that.”
I wanted to laugh at that.
Instead, I rolled my eyes and went to work on my hair, turning the hair dryer on and practically blasting him in the face.
“You should probably wash that hand.” I pointed at his dirty hand. “It has butt juices on it.”
He slapped me on the ass as he moved away from the counter, and despite the pain of his slap, I still watched as his cock bounced with his movements.
“Stop staring,” he ordered as he washed his hands.
I snorted. “That’s like telling the sun not to shine. Or the ground not to collect rainwater.”
His smile was a little snarky as he finished up and walked out of the room.
When he came back into the bathroom, he was fully dressed and shoving a set of keys into his pocket.
“If you don’t have anything to do,” he said. “You can come with me to my office to sign some papers. Go into the suite I want you to rent and check it out.”
“You don’t want me to rent the same suite?” I wondered aloud.
“No,” he said. “I have a downstairs suite that’s closest to the back lobby that just opened up. It used to belong to an artist that rented it to store her paintings. But she moved on and it’s back open again. It’d be easier for people to move their shit in and out of your building without having to lug it down two long hallways.”
