She claws at the chaise; my body is lost to the white-hot pleasure currently burning a path through every vein in my body. Nea’s pussy pulses around my shaft, but I don’t relent. I want to draw another two orgasms from her.
I reach around, circling her clit, and with my other hand, I toy with her nipple, tugging and tweaking until I feel her walls tighten so hard I’m almost blinded from the intense pleasure.
She’s still whimpering as I continue fucking her. Nea’s soft moans, then loud ones, are all a soundtrack to our lovemaking, our fucking, our connection. My body is hers the same way hers is mine.
I pull out one more time as I feel her body tighten, sucking me in deep. And I know it’s time to let go. And I do. I hold her close, my hips slamming into her, and her sweat-slicked back against my chest is where I find my euphoria.
We don’t move for a long while. And I don’t want to move, to slip out of her, because the only thing that seems to keep me sane, that makes me feel real, is her.
When I do disconnect from Nea, she turns to look directly at me. Her eyes are shining with happiness, and I mimic her smile. Gently, I lift her into my arms, and she twines her hands around my neck as I walk us through the house, down the hall, and into my bedroom.
I set her down on the bed, and she smiles up at me.
“Was that dessert?” she teases, giggling when I roll her onto her back and practically leap over her. Her laugh bounces off the walls of my bedroom. It’s been so long since laughter was heard here, and Nea truly has brought my home to life. But more importantly, she’s brought me to life.
“That was a lot more dessert than you’re used to,” I tell her. “Isn’t it?” Our lips touch gently. She doesn’t shy away from me anymore. The confident girl with the ink that adorns her skin is mine. She’s in my bed, and she’s making me fall in love with her.
“There can never be too much dessert,” Nea whispers along my mouth. “And when I’m around, you’ll always have something sweet to eat.”
“Now that is definitely music to my ears. When can you move in?” The moment the question leaves my lips, I realize what I just said. Her mouth opens, her eyes widen, and I realize I’ve just said something stupid. I shouldn’t have muttered the words. “I’m going to get cleaned up.” Pushing off her, I rise to full height. When I feel her hand on me, I jerk it off. “I said I need to get cleaned up.” My tone is biting, but I can’t explain where it’s coming from.
“Julian.” Her voice is soft, timid.
“I need time.” It’s all I can manage as I head into the attached bathroom, leaving her on the bed. I open the hot water tap and grab a cloth. She needs to clean up, and after what I just said and did, leaving her in there, I think I should make up for it.
Guilt tightens my chest when I walk back into the bedroom to find it empty. Racing into the studio, I come to find Nea’s clothes are gone, and so are her shoes.
Frustration has taken hold of me as I drive to Nea’s apartment. I didn’t want to have to do this, but she’s forced my hand. I shouldn’t have walked away from her, but as I sat in the bedroom, with her scent all over the sheets, I knew I needed to apologize. But I gave myself a few hours, time to think about how I’m going to explain my coldness toward her. She’s fire, and I’m all fucking ice. When I pull up to the building, I park, exit the vehicle, and head for the door.
It’s easy getting through the entrance foyer when I explain that I’m her boss, and soon enough, I’m outside Nea’s door. And for some reason, I’m fucking nervous. I don’t know what to make of these emotions that currently have a hold of me, because they’re new, unchartered territory for me.
I knock twice. I leave my hand on the door, feeling the cool wooden surface under my knuckles. She’s home because there’s a light shining from underneath her door. From the other side, I hear shuffling, and then the door opens a crack. I notice the chain meant to hold the door shut, but I know if I truly tried, I’d be able to break my way in.
Would I do that?
“Open the door, Nea.”
“I’m tired, Julian. Please, just leave me alone.” Her voice is broken as she says this, the pain evident in her tone. I fucked up this time, and I did it royally.
“I’m not leaving until you come out and talk to me, or you let me in to talk to you.” I keep my voice steady, even though I’m losing my shit inside. The turmoil currently raging a war in my gut is nothing compared to the moment I saw she’d left.
“I really can’t do this tonight,” Nea tells me. She doesn’t look. She keeps her gaze on the floor, and I notice her slippers — big, fluffy, pink unicorns. It makes me smile because from her ink, piercings, and purple hair, I would never have guessed she’d own anything pink.
“You can do this tonight because I need to talk to you. As your boss, I order you to open this fucking door, Nea,” I bite out, frustration slipping from my lips in my cold, commanding tone.
This causes her to
