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“Call you what? Baby? Open your eyes,baby.” Asshole. But I do it anyway, I open my eyes and watch his very much amused ones staring back at me. “Well, look at that; my Ursula knows how to listen to me after all.”
“I—” I start to tell him that I am not listening to him, but his left hand comes up, covering my mouth before I can utter the words.
“Now let’s see if I can pry that other information out of you, yeah?” Who would have thought Vassar Levidis was a cocky bastard. My always quiet, submissive toy in the kitchen is nowhere to be found, and I think this new side of him makes me want him all that much more.
The fingers that were only teasing me now sink into me. Vassar puts his middle finger into me, and I gasp into his hand, which is still covering my mouth, as his head tips back.
“Fuck, it feels so good in your pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants in whispers, then takes it out, replacing it with two fingers, and this time, my head tips back. “Yeah, this is better. Not enough, but better. Fuck, how good would you feel wrapped around my cock, huh baby?”
“Why don’t we test it out?” I mumble into his palm as his fingers down below start pumping into me harder and harder.
“Hmmm, I don’t know about that.”
“Oh, there. There, right there.” I am a blubbering mess as he works me with his hand, and he finds just the spot I always need.Just the one spot that not every dick that was inside me managed to locate, yet Vassar didn’t need GPS. “Fuck, yesssss,” I draw it out, already tasting that delicious climax, when suddenly, I feel empty.
Empty because he snatched his hand out of my jeans completely, bringing those fingers still wet with me to his mouth, and I gulp.
You see, one thing about my sex life is that it never goes beyond basic needs. I walk into the hotel room. I fuck—ride—them, and as soon as the orgasm is reached, I slip off and leave. No, I don’t care if the other guy finishes as well. That is not my concern. So, all this foreplay, all the dirty talk, all the touching and teasing, that’s all new to me.
Last time I had any sort of intimacy with a partner cost me too much, so I shunned it from life until I no longer remember how it feels to be so in the moment, you lose your mind.
And I think I like it a bit too much, because here I am, watching him as he brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking me off him with a groan, and I fucking whimper, slightly fidgeting at this wall, looking to relieve the ache between my thighs.
“My little witch tastes divine.” He releases his middle finger with a pop and steps away from me.
What the fuck?
Where is he going? What is going on? Surely, he is not just going to leave me like this over here.
For the third time.
“Vassar?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Don’t ca—” I stop myself, pursing my lips. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, me?” He raises his eyebrows as if there is someone else standing around here after leaving me on the brink of an orgasm. “I am going to find a new job and a new apartment.”
“What? Why?”
“Maybe because I don’t have anywhere to live, and I refuse to work for you.”
“What the hell, Levidis? We had a deal.”
“Yeah, and I am no longer interested in it. I never signed up to be your toy, Kira. I’ve done that enough in my life. And getting ruined all over again doesn’t sound appealing. Plus, I’m not normal…” The second those words leave his mouth, his eyes narrow down, and I realize it was a slip-up of a very important piece of information. Something he didn’t mean to share. Especially not with me.
But I know what it means to hold a secret. And I might want to know his, but I want them willingly, not forced. Which is weird as fuck because I’ve never had those reservations before. I would do anything in the forbidden playbook to pry it out of him, but not now.
“So, what are you interested in now?” I put the ball in his court, and I hate that very much, but here I am, extending an olive branch because I cannot lose Vassar.
As my Sous-chef, of course. Not as my fake boyfriend. I don’t need any boyfriend and it was an idiotic idea to begin with, since now all those crows with their clicky clacks are even more invested in my life.
What else did I expect from Landon Locke? Obviously, it was bound to fail.
His eyes snap to mine. “What do I want?” Silence. “How about my apartment back?” Silence. “No? Then, a gleaming letter of recommendation? But let me guess another, no?” Silence. And he takes a step back towards me. “Then how about some damn truth as a parting gift.”
He is too close again, and while my body is aching to have his again, my consciousness screams, “stay away.” I should probably go see my doctor regarding this loss of speech or brain in general when Vassar is nearby. Maybe it’s something in his cologne?
