Reaching between us, I can’t wait another second without him filling my body. Wrapping my fingers around his length, I guide him toward my center. Gripping his shoulders, my head falls back with a thud as he fills me in one quick thrust.
“You aren’t ready yet,” he rasps against the front of my throat.
“Make me ready for you,” I breathe.
He chuckles, his breath fanning across my skin. His lips suck, his tongue licks my throat, behind my ear, everywhere he can reach at this position, all the while he stays still and deep inside of me—stretching me like only he can.
When I’m so wet, so ready, that I’m writhing beneath him, on the edge of begging him to move, that’s when he finally begins to pull out and thrust back inside, it’s beautiful.
“Look at us, honey. Look at how fucking beautiful you are,” he growls, his chin dipped and his eyes focused on the way his body moves in and out of my own.
I’m so mesmerized by just the way he looks, watching us, I hold my breath and am frozen for a moment. Beautiful is exactly what he is, every single part of him. Sliding one of my hands from his shoulder, I shiver as my hand slides through his thick hair and my nails dig into the skin at the center of his chest.
“Fuck,” he hisses as he begins to move harder and faster with each thrust.
Tilting my head down, I watch. I can’t take my eyes off of the way he looks as he takes me. The way I accept every inch of him inside of my body. The way he fits so perfectly as if I was always meant to be his, made just for him.
“I’m going to come,” I whisper.
He grunts, one of his hands slipping from my ass, shifting between us. Letting out a moan, I feel his thumb press against my clit and he starts to circle me there. God, he’s amazing. Every muscle in my body tightens as I climb higher and higher, so much closer to my release.
My nails score his chest as I come. My entire body begins to tremble, my hips almost violently bucking against his thumb and his cock, searching and riding the high of my orgasm as it takes over my entire body.
“Fucking hell,” he groans, his hips moving faster and faster before he buries himself deep inside of me with a roar.
We’re both coming down, our breathing coming out in pants when we hear clapping coming from the other side of the room. Turning my head to the side, I narrow my eyes at the sight of Sable standing there, her gaze focused on us, a smile playing on her lips.
“That was pretty spectacular.”
“What the fuck?” I breathe at the same time Hawk shouts my exact words.
Sable lets out a laugh, but seems completely unbothered. Whore. “Your appointment is here, Hawk and Trista is downstairs. She was giving me daggers, so I bounced.”
“Thanks,” I say through gritted teeth.
She gives me a grin. “The thanks are all mine. You two are hot.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t stay, and she turns and walks away from us before I can scramble down and beat the shit out of her the way that Trista did not too long ago.
Hawk’s boom of laughter interrupts my stare down of her back. Shifting my gaze back to him, I arch a brow, looking into his smiling eyes.
“You’re sexy when you’re giving someone a fuck yourself vibe, I’m just glad I’m not the recipient.”
“Do you want to be?” I snap.
He presses his lips together, his shoulders still shaking as he slips from my body and helps me to my feet. “Not really.” He chuckles.
Rolling my eyes, I lift my hand and cup his cheek.
“You okay? That was okay?” he asks, his voice raspy and low.
I hate that he’s asking. I hate that he has a reason to ask. I hate everything that happened to us that is causing both of us to be unsure about the other.
A month ago, he wouldn’t have asked me shit, he would have taken. A month ago, I wouldn’t have worried about anything other than the aching pleasure he gives me.
“I love you, Orson,” I breathe. “That was perfect. No more asking.”
He dips his chin, his gaze finding mine. “No more asking,” he says, repeating my words.
“No more, daddy.”
His lips touch mine, his tongue sliding across the seam and he bites my bottom lip before he lifts his head. His eyes search mine, never looking away and then he smirks, a shit-eating grin, the one I remember from before, the one that I fell for instantly.
“Get dressed, get your shit handled. Then you come back here, get sexy, and party a little with me before I head out.”
His words are an instruction, a demand, and it’s exactly what I need to hear. “Yes, sir,” I breathe.
He chuckles. “Fuck yeah, baby.”
It doesn’t take me long to get dressed, mainly because I’m headed to the salon where I’m going to have my hair fixed and my makeup done. Actually, both Trista and I are having a full day of beauty and I cannot wait for it.
Slipping into my romper and sandals, I pull my hair into a high messy bun and start to walk out of the room. Locking the bedroom door behind me, I think about how odd it is for us, how certain things have changed.
Neither of us wants doors locked while we’re inside of the room, though leaving them unlocked has a serious drawback, like when people like Sable can just burst inside. I supposed I have to take the good with the bad at this point.
We’ve both agreed that we will always lock them when we leave. There’s something that just plain feels safe with the doors locked, if we aren’t in the room.
Nobody can go inside and lie in wait, even though the odds
