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We stay silently like that for a few seconds before he pulls out and releases my legs, letting me slide down the wall until I come to stand on my heels.
I look away, avoiding his gaze as I make a show of smoothing my dress down over my hips.
He grasps my jaw and forces me to look up into his eyes.
“Did you just fake an orgasm?”
I stiffen, my face flaming red with embarrassment. Nerves roil in my belly and I want to throw up, my body desperate to get rid of these feelings. Bile rises in my throat but I smother it, clinging to my outward facing mask of calm.
I shake my jaw out of his grasp and try to move away, but he doesn’t let me.
“No, I–,”
“You faked an orgasm,” he repeats, this time as a statement. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes seeing too much as they inspect my face. An actual amused grin twists itself onto his mouth. “You think I can’t make you come?”
There’s humor in his voice, like what he just suggested is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever said.
This isn’t the reaction I’m used to. He makes me feel off-footed and something tells me that’s much more dangerous for me long term than anger.
Good thing this is just one night of fun.
“Answer me and I’ll let you go,” he commands.
“I’ve been with…,” I start before trailing off, unsure of what to say. “My ex-boyfriend, he couldn’t make me…you know,” I say, stumbling on the words. As comfortable as I am talking about anything sex related, when it comes to my inability to orgasm, I turn into a blithering fool. I don’t like admitting to having another design flaw out loud. Some secrets you just keep to yourself. “You shouldn’t take it personally. I don’t think I…can.”
He steps back as promised, casually removing and tying the condom before tucking himself away and disposing of it in a nearby trash. He turns back towards me and stares me down, his fingers going to the unopened buttons of his shirt that I spared. He starts to unbutton them.
I’m momentarily distracted, confused by what he’s doing and then taken aback by the expanse of the tanned chest he reveals. He pulls his shirt from his trousers and takes it off, giving away rippling, mouthwatering muscles covered in tattoos. I want to get closer and explore.
My eyes move up to meet his and the smile he gives me is downright cocky now.
“Say it,” he orders, clutching his belt buckle next and using it to jerk the strap clean through the loops and off. Thethwackof the belt cracks in the silence between us and I swear I can feel the lick on the skin of my ass. “Your ex couldn’t make you come.”
He leans against the back of the couch and crosses his arms over his chest as he waits for me to speak. How can I form words when the way he moves has the unintentional effect of highlighting the thickness of his arms and toned six pack of his stomach?
Or is it eight?
“Well,” I say, clapping my hands and looking away from him when I’m abruptly brought back from my ogling to the moment once his words sink in. “This has been fun. Thank you for, um, participating,” I add, turning to look for the elevator panel so I can run out of here and go let the mortification kill me slowly somewhere else, far from his prying eyes.
“That first fuck was for me,”he declares.
His voice brushes over me, the dark tenor of his words tickling my skin and buzzing straight through to the marrow of my bones. I turn back around to face him, but he hasn’t moved. His jaw is tight, his eyes dark and intense.
“Call it punishment for walking away from me and leaving me with the most painful hard on I’ve ever had in my life. For making me chase you,” he growls. “This next one is just for you. You can thank me when I’m done. Now, come sit on my face.”
A gasp falls from my lips.
I must have heard him wrong.
“Excuse me?”
He straightens and walks over to me with slow, purposeful steps that have anticipation racing through me. My heart beats in my throat as the same current that sparked to life when he’d first looked into my eyes passes through us once more.
“I haven’t even started with you,” he purrs. “You’re not going anywhere until I’ve had your cum on my tongue and dripping off my face.”
He’s stubborn.
I am too.
