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Eric drops his head and presses his lips to me, creating a gentle suction. When his tongue touches me, I buck and press into it. He puts a hand on my hip and presses my bum back to the bed.
“Slow down,” he says, making eye contact. “That felt like begging. Another move like that and I’ll win the bet.” He licks me. I force myself to hold still. “You need to win this bet. You want me here every night to do this to you.”
I do. I do need this. I do want him.
Time and space blur. For several minutes, Eric’s tongue holds me in the most pleasurably painful space, right before release. With two fingers inside me, he’s given me something to squeeze, but it’s not enough.
“I want to come with you inside me.”
He pauses his movement, as if considering.
“You must have a condom on you,” I say, expecting he’ll push away.
Instead, he blows cool air between my legs and vibrates his fingertips against my G-spot.
I arch and exhale, spread my legs wider and press into his hand. I’m a second from a full orgasm and he pulls his fingers out, leaving me with nothing for my muscles to contract around. Clenching emptiness is painful and the orgasm subsides.
“No!” I yell into the air. “Eric, please—”
“Don’t beg, baby. Don’t do it. I don’t want to win this one.”
“Fuck you, Eric. Fuck you.”
He laughs and pushes to standing, looking down at me.
“Finish yourself off. We need to get to the party.”
“I hate you!” I say like a petulant teenager, spreading my knees as wide as I can, to show him what he could be enjoying. I finger my clit while Eric watches from the foot of the bed, stroking himself, mouth open.
He comes first and his moan is all I need to finish myself. I press my butt into the mattress with my hand curled tight against my shaking core. But Eric pulls me by my ankles so my whole body slides down the bed. He drops back to his knees and buries his face where it never should have left.
I am spent. His touch is too intense. I twist and try to move away from his mouth, but he holds me firm.
“Stopstopstop. It’s too much. I can’t …” I can’t finish my sentence. I’ve stopped breathing.
“Are you begging?”
“Yes! I’m begging. Stop! Please, Eric!”
Eric pulls back and I curl into a ball, panting, aching, exhausted.
He lays down and wraps himself around me in a calming hug.
“You okay?” he asks.
I have no idea how to answer. I’ve just had the most intense sexual experience of my life with a man I’m not even dating.
Am I okay? I’m confused. The voice in my head that’s normally a glass half-empty talker, is excited and saying, “Don’t screw this up. He’s your match.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m good. You good?”
“Better than good. Let’s shower.”
CHAPTER11
Eric
The opening gala goes without a hitch. The media love Nestrogen. Catherine is exuberant. Mrs. Power is delighted with the publicity and the explicit invitation to look at Will Power & Bros. as a more female-friendly business than it has been in the past.
