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If I look, I'll fall. And a fall into Lake is something I'll never come back from.
“Eight.” His deep voice rumbles through my chest.
After standing above me for far too long, he finally departs, walking with his crutch towards the door to leave. Only he passes the door, heading towards the master suite.
My eyes narrow as I watch him disappear into the darkness of the room. He better not for a second assume I'm going to take care of that little situation.
It's not that I don't want to. I'd love to use that mouthwatering rod to satisfy my own needs at the moment, but it's the expectations of the famous Lake Decker that send me back to reality.
He disappears into the room, only to return a few seconds later with his hands full of the clothes he gave me. He turns to face me with a flirtatious smirk pulling at his lips, his tongue skating across those plump pillows before he eyes my robe one more time, drinking me in before he leaves.
He’s using my wit against me, leaving me pantless.
The heavy door slams shut and I sink down on the guest bed, shaking my head as my own grin threatens to stretch across my lips.
Prick.
16
Lake
Withmyhandbracedon the shower wall, I stroke the length of my cock, finally emptying myself and my frustrations down the drain with a throaty groan. I'm breathless as I fall forward, my forehead against my forearm, resting beneath the running water.
She's fucking you up, Lake.
It didn't take long for me to return to the room after she stripped down before me, leaving me standing in awe. She's got one of those bodies that needs worshiping. Unknowing of her sexual appeal. Just knowing she was on the other side of that door, all naked and exposed...it fucked with me. I knew I'd be getting back inside. I had to. Late-night therapy, it was.
I knew she'd be challenging, but I never expected her to be the feisty little smart-ass she is. I'm disgusted with myself for how much I enjoy her tearing me down. Her quick-witted comebacks, the sass that makes me clench my jaw. I've become some sort of masochist for her torture.
Watching her attempt to remain professional while naked beneath that robe as her hands slid up my thigh gave me a rock like I couldn't believe. There wasn't a chance in hell thinking about anything else could have brought down that swelling.
And then the edge of her robe fell open when she crouched between my thighs, and the swell of her breasts came into view. The very edge of her pink nipple had me praying to God, begging him for some divine intervention to stop my pain. She had no idea it'd slipped open. Her focus was on her new toy that she actively needed to use on me. My eyes remained locked on the ceiling as she completed whatever she was doing, masking my desire to grip that ponytail and give her something to do with that smart mouth.
Without meaning to, I had imagined bending her over the table, her soft pink nipples pressing against the cool black surface, flipping that flimsy robe up and over her round plump ass and fucking her until she needed therapy.
It was well and clear she’d seen my hard-on when she stood abruptly and ended the session before the twenty minutes were up. I made my decision as soon as she stopped. She didn't want the clothes? Fine. I'd take them with me as I left. I needed her to be in nothing but this robe tomorrow morning. Needed it like some sort of perverted psycho.
A perverted psycho would've sniffed the underwear she’d thrown in my face before returning them. But I'm no psycho, even though I definitely balled that soft cotton into my fist and wished I was. I’d later accepted my fate as a pervert after breathing in her alluring scent.
My mind was racing, my urges all over the place. I needed something to break this strange spell she had over me so I could get back to myself again. To focus on what actually mattered. Not the overwhelming need to fucksome girl.
Knockingonthedoorat quarter to eight, I readjust my bag along my shoulder, peering down the quiet hallway.
After a few minutes with no response, I knock again.
“Dylan, it's Lake—”
The door opens, and her panicked face meets mine. Unfortunately, I'm met with a clothed woman. Black yoga pants with a cropped sweatshirt, and her hair tied up into a bun. With her phone to her ear, she puts a finger to her mouth, hushing me.
“Uh-huh...yeah, that's great!” she says into the receiver, sounding unusually upbeat.
She ushers me in with her hands, pointing to the room we've designated as the therapy room before she disappears into the master.
I head into the kitchen area instead, placing my bag on the counter. I pull out the bullet blender and get started on my specialty; protein shakes. As I pull out a cutting board from the drawer to slice up the fruit, I see a book out of the corner of my eye that immediately catches my attention. It's the four naked torsos on the cover that really pull me in.
Well, what do we have here?
Curiosity pulls at me as I grab it, looking to the bedroom to ensure she's still inside. The book is entitledBreak Me on Bearback Mountain,and the name alone makes me snort. I see various corners of pages folded over and decide to check one out. Sure as shit, I open the page to the middle of some sort of pornographic literature. Multiple cocks stuffing a woman, front and back, screaming out in uncontrolled pleasure, a pulsating pussy on the verge of release as the men coax out her climax—what the fuck is this?!
