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Not dry, not dry, jeez.
I must have said something coherent, the hooker looking into my eyes with something akin to curiosity, and then an acknowledgment of what I didn’t want.
“Didn’t think so,” he said.
“She’s not my wife… we’re divorced… I—”
He chuckled, “She find out you like cock?”
“I told her, she walked out, and my son—"
“I’m not your fucking therapist,” he muttered.
He leaned into me from thigh to hip, the back of my legs pressed into the faux wood of the dresser and used the fingers of his free hand to twist the hard nub of my left nipple. Fuck. I couldn’t help the noises I made; I was hot under this professional’s hands, begging for more with every taunt and suggestion he threw at me. When the hooker took the bottle of lube from the unit behind him and pumped a generous amount into his hand, and then smoothed it up and around his erection, I had to pinch my cock to stop myself from coming.
“So fucking slick and easy for me. You wanna come here and now. So, fucking hard for this… you want me to push you on the bed, hold you so you can’t move. Fuck you until you can’t feel anything but me. You want me to show you how it’s done?” He brushed his own erection against mine—this stunning, forceful god taking me to the edge. The hooker lowered his face toward the shell of my ear and I whimpered. “Hey Josh, you wanna know the name of the guy who is gonna get you on all fours on this bed, and fuck you ’til you can’t walk?”
I nodded and heard myself whimper “please.” My words were jumbled and staccato-short and I stared up into his eyes, watching a fleeting confusion in their depths and wondering what that was, but it was gone all too soon. “Please,” I repeated. “I need this.”
“Ethan,” the hooker said after a short pause. “Call me Ethan.”
ChapterTwo
Ethan
I stared at Josh,so gorgeous, pretty, hard, and needy, and felt sick to my stomach.
If Ihadto do this, then fucking Josh would at least be fun.
His bright blue eyes were heavy with lust, and sooty black lashes swept Josh’s face as he shut his eyes tight. Seeing Josh’s lips parted in a moan, repeating my name over and over, it was all I could do not to bite down on his plump lower lip and then lick my way into that appealing open mouth. Groaning, I pulled myself back. I needed to get my head in the game, and I wasn’t going to expose my vulnerability like that. I focused on what I was doing—turning Josh into a pile of sobbing need in my arms.
“Wanna suck me?” I asked, low and insistent. “Want me to force you to your knees, and make you suck me until I come all over your skin, rub it in… make you beg for me?”
I felt Josh push at me and smirked, it had been a rhetorical question, but I understood the response. It was clear that Josh didn’t want to participate in conversation, he’d said he wanted to be fucked, and that was what I intended to do, because this wasmycase. I shoved Josh, twisting my fingers over the head of his hard length again; using every clever move I knew, living my cover, unrelenting, bending my head to bite a mark into the base of Josh’s neck that would be sure to show in court, hearing him keen at the prick of pain.
“When I’m fucking you… ” I said, “you shout what you want, okay? You call my name, you shout for me,” I finished in broken sentences. A final twist of my hand was enough to send Josh hurtling into orgasm and he arched and lost it hot and wet over my hand. I watched, struck with an absurd flush of accomplishment as Josh bowed his head in completion, his breathing ragged. I hadn’t finished—hadn’t gotten enough—and knew I needed a two for one.
I maneuvered Josh to the bed, giving him no chance to back out, hard at the view of pretty blue eyes and the instant submission. I manhandled him onto all fours, facing him sideways on the bed, all while checking the angles, then grabbed the lube and condom, letting them tumble next to him. Josh would still be high from his orgasm, but his harsh breathing made him sound as if he’d run a marathon, breath catching.
“More,” he demanded, his eyes glittering with need.
“I’m not stopping,” I reassured him. I wasn’t going to hang around waiting for the guy to get cold feet. I needed this to be fucking done because the conscience part of my soul was being destroyed here and it had to be worth it.
Using enough slick to ease my finger into Josh’s tight hole, I added a second catching on the first, and there was the obscene slip-slide of wet on skin. I watched it with clinical fascination as lube dripped to the covers below, wanting this prep to be fast, but for it to be done well enough to matter. I twisted and touched, drinking in the delicious sounds of Josh beneath me as he pushed back on the fingers in his ass. I wiped my hands, then reached for a condom and sheathed my cock, then angled for the bundle of nerves inside him as Josh near sobbed my name as I’d asked him to.
“Ethan, Ethan, fuck me, Ethan, Ethan.”
It was enough to know that theclientwas aware of who I was, and who was taking him to places he had probably never been, enough to get myself off maybe.
It had to look authentic.
Sending a prayer to the gods guiding anyone who walked on the dark side, I entered Josh with little finesse. Pushing strong and deep into the body beneath me, I gripped Josh’s thighs as I rutted and marked the man who was paying me to make him feel. Leaning back for the right angle, I could watch as I buried myself time after time inside Josh, and fuck, I was close to coming.
“More. Fuck you. More. Harder,” Josh demanded.
I buried a hand in Josh’s short brown hair, twisting my fingers in it, making sure to pull his head to the left with a hard tug, leaning over him and grabbing a bruising kiss. It was vital Josh should be seen to get his money’s worth, and I was satisfied when Josh lost it again, without one touch to his hard cock. I didn’t come. I couldn’t. But I pretended I did, profanities on my tongue as I bent low, feeling the pump and grind of my dick inside Josh.
I waited inside for five breaths—enough time to listen to the whimpers beneath me. There was an odd feeling in my chest, and I recognized it as regret, but not at what I’d done, instead it was that this wasn’t real, and I had to leave. I eased out and discarded the condom and pulled on my pants, catching sight of myself in the wall mirror, seeing the smeared kohl around my eyes, the sheen of sweat on my skin. I was ruthless. This was wrong. I hated myself.
