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Slow.
God, so slow.
Until the intense eye contact started to almost unnerve me.
I pressed my face into his neck and started to ride him harder and faster, driving myself up and through a second orgasm in what felt like record time.
Slash wasn’t done with me yet, though.
As soon as the waves stopped crashing, he was grabbing me and flipping me under his powerful frame, fucking me hard and fast, plowing me through a third orgasm I hadn’t anticipated before slamming deep and coming with a savage growl.
His body collapsed onto mine afterward, both of us trying to catch our breaths.
And for a few blissful moments, there was silence in my head.
No worries.
No fear.
No uncertainty.
Just pleasure and peace.
Eventually, Slash rolled off, going into the bathroom for a moment.
And that was my cue to get dressed, to head out.
Why, then, did I climb up the bed instead, slip under the covers, curl up like I intended to stay the night?
And why did a small little voice in my head hope that Slash would do the same?
“This place is fucking nice,” Slash declared as he walked back out of the bathroom, casting his gaze around the bedroom.
It was all very understated in tones of beige and white that made it feel airy and clean without being completely sterile.
“Even a decent view if you look past the road,” he added, looking out of the windows.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I didn’t even know it existed,” I admitted.
“Kind of unusual to be meeting here,” he said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I had a rough day. I was… in the area,” I told him. And it wasn’t a complete lie. I mean I did get to the area before he did.
“After work?” he pressed, either not buying it, or suspicious of what I was doing out that late.
“I am a woman of many mysteries,” I told him.
“That you are,” he agreed.
“So, are you planning on standing there, bare-ass naked, in front of the window all night, or…” I asked, shooting him a smirk that fell when a look cut across his face.
It was gone too fast for me to pinpoint, but I saw it for long enough to know it wasn’t an amused look.
“What? The view isn’t to your liking?” he asked. “Just like the feel, not the look,” he added, glancing back to the windows, face tight.
And then I finally placed it.
That look?
