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Before I can teeter over the handrail, he’s got a hold of my shoulder, his finger still wresting pleasure from me.
The sounds that emanate from my mouth are foreign to me. Cries that shame me because they’re so uncontrolled and loud, but I can’t help them.
In the distance, I hear a belt being undone and a zipper. I’m still coming when Gavin snakes a hand upward and fists my ponytail and tugs, forcing me to step down one level and arch my back. When I do, he plunges his entire length and girth into me.
I’m robbed of breath instantly and though my mouth is wide open, my cries die on my lips.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growls. “So fucking tight.” He tugs on my hair harder, until his lips meet the shell of my ear. “And you’re all mine.”
“Yes,” I gasp when I’m finally able to inhale.
Tears spring from my eyes as he pounds into me and stretches me in a way that hurts so good. It’s an overwhelming sensation, being filled this way. Like I’m going to be split in two, but I’m desperate for it to happen.
And when he uses my ponytail to control the position of my head, making me tilt it so that he can bite down on the skin of my neck, I come again.
My world turns upside down and I shut my eyes as I let go. I fall and I don’t give a shit. All that matters is this explosion inside me.
Gavin catches me, however. His arms come around me tightly as he reaches his own climax with a groan.
We remain like that for a bit, with me on the first step of the stool and him inside me.
He chuckles, and even though we just finished doing what we did, it warms me in a way that should be illegal.
“I’ve been dying to do that to you,” he says.
“To fuck me on a step stool?” My brows pinch together as I look at him. “That’s been a fantasy of yours?”
“One of many.”
“Did the real thing measure up?” I ask, and I hate that his reply matters. So, before he can answer, I ask another question. “What else do you have in store for me?”
The wicked grin that spreads across his face is another thing that should be illegal. “You’re going to find out.”
8
GAVIN
When I wake up somewhere around nine in the morning, my first instinct is to reach to the right side of the bed and make sure Andie’s still there. My hand makes contact with the warm skin between her breasts and I leave it there for a moment just to feel her breathing and her heart beating steadily beneath my palm.
I’m not sure what it is about her sleeping that does something to my insides I can’t explain. There have been many other women in my bed. Years ago. And I couldn’t wait for them to leave so I could start my day. So, I stopped allowing anyone to stay.
But with her…
The night before last I imagined what she was like in slumber. Now that I have her here beside me, I think I could stay like this forever.
I roll my head to look at her. Messy blond hair, made so by my hands in it all night, is fanned across the pillow and over her beautiful face. The gray sheets have been drawn down to her waist, exposing her breasts and the curve of her hip, but stops short of her pelvic area. I’m not sure what teases me more, the parts I can see, or the ones hidden from view.
Once again, I find myself wrestling with the decision to let her sleep, or wake her and fuck her until we’re both satisfied.
It might take a while, however. I thought with everything we did last night, and the many times we did it, I’d be ready to take a break. Instead, I just want more.
I frown. Maybe it will take a more creative approach to get my fill with her.
Suddenly, it dawns on me. The perfect setting for my perfect fantasy. I’ve never fucked anyone on the stage at my own club, not because I’m against it. But because it’s simply never been a desire.
Andie, however, makes me want to do everything.
Tonight.
