her stare. She knows I’m hiding something bigger than me. She knows I’m a coward, but she sticks to our nothing-personal rule and offers me an out clause.
My hand still holds the sponge. She guides me to wash her breasts and her stomach, only releasing my hand when she’s pressed it between her legs so she can grip both my shoulders while she rides my hand and the sponge with undulations of her hips.
‘Cam,’ she whispers, her eyes on mine. ‘Let’s get lost together.’
I don’t need a second invitation. I toss the sponge and lift her from the bath, snagging a towel on my way out of the bathroom. In the bedroom I deposit her on her feet and slide the towel over every inch of her skin until she’s dry, by which time my erection is painfully hard and straining behind my fly. But I don’t touch her, nor do I give her my mouth, which is what she wants, her head lifting to mine every time I move close, her lips seeking the kisses that make her moan.
I hold my own body taut to prevent me from swaying her way. I’ve got this. I’m here for the sex. I can control the sex. She likes being nudged to explore her sexual boundaries, but beyond that…
There is no beyond.
‘Go to the wardrobe and get the M Club box,’ I say, my voice tight with longing. Yes, the urge to be close to her, to be buried inside, to kiss her into silence, is as strong as ever, but there’s a new driving force in me tonight. A dangerous force—to be more to her than her sex toy. To gain her trust, to hear her acknowledgement that I’m not like the men of her past, men who’ve betrayed her, underestimated her, overlooked her. That I’m different.
I swallow hard. It’s just sex. That’s all she wants from me.
Her eyes flare with excitement and she sashays to the wardrobe, loosening her hair from its messy bun as she goes. I’m momentarily lost in the sight of the sway of her heart-shaped ass, but then she’s back before me, a sexy smile of challenge on her face. ‘Now what?’
I take the box. ‘Lie on the bed.’
She obeys, her movements slow and sensual as if she wants to put on a show for my eyes only. As if she knows she’s driving me mad, pushing me every inch as far as I push her. Because she’s right. Maybe we do both need to get lost, and this is the best way.
With hands that could tremble from the adrenaline surging in me, if I wasn’t wound so tightly, I deposit the box beside her feet and strip my shirt overhead, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Her teeth scrape over her bottom lip and her eyes follow my every move. I retrieve a bottle of lube, watching every subtle nuance of her reaction when she sees what it is.
She’s excited, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and like the impatient, self-sufficient woman she is, not content to wait, she slips her hand between her thighs to touch herself.
I place the lube next to the box and take off my dress trousers and boxers, my eyes glued to her hand working her clit. ‘Don’t come. Not yet.’ I stand over her, scooping her head up from the bed by the back of her neck so I can angle her mouth up to mine. I kiss her until we’re both panting and then I break free.
‘Fuck, you’re so sexy. I want to take you to a place no one else has. I want you to remember me, just like, when this is over, I’ll never forget you.’
I have no idea where that comes from, but I accept its truth. It’s too late to take it back anyway.
‘Yes. Cam, yes.’
So she feels it too, that we’re skirting dangerous territory. That, if we’re not careful, our feelings could become all snared up in this thing we’ve started. But neither of us has room in our lives for that complication.
I flip the box open and reach inside for the vibrator. ‘Tell me to stop if this gets too intense, okay?’ I flick the hidden switch so the device emits a barely audible hum. ‘Lie back.’
She listens, abandoning pleasuring herself to sprawl back on the satin bedspread with her arms slung casually over her head.
Perfect.
Splayed out for our pleasure.
I lean over and kiss her, my tongue duelling with the push and slide of hers until she’s panting and writhing once more. Then I touch the tip of the vibrator to one of her nipples. She arches off the bed, a ragged moan torn from her throat. I break free from the kiss to watch my handiwork, sliding the toy to the other nipple in order to drag out another whimper.
‘Open your mouth.’ I trail the black phallus over the curve of her breast and along her breastbone. Her lips part and I slide the tip past to her waiting tongue, which she laves seductively over the toy before wrapping her mouth around the shaft.
The sight is so erotic, I take my cock in my free hand, offering it a few lazy tugs in appeasement for the torture I’m putting us through. Orla watches me, her eyes widening, but then she abandons the toy and reaches for my hips, tugging me forward and over her so she can take the head of my cock into her mouth in place of the vibrator.
I grit my teeth, grunt a few unintelligible curses and then slide the now wet toy back to her nipple. But I’m done teasing us. With a groan of protest I pull back and position myself between her thighs. I lap at her clit, sliding the vibrating toy up and down her inner thigh as I do to stimulate as many nerves as I can.
Orla grips my head, her fingers twisting and tugging. I keep the suction on her clit slow and subtle while I work the head of the sex toy inside her tight pussy, plunging and mimicking what my own body is desperate to do. But not yet. I have plans. Plans I hope will lead us one step closer to our end goal.
While I keep up the tonguing of her clit, I discard the vibrator and reach for the lube and butt plug.
Sensing my movements, Orla lifts her head from the bed and looks down.
I pull back, needing to hear her confirmation. ‘Do you still want this?’
‘Yes.’ No hesitation, just a blaze of challenge burning through the desire in her beautiful green eyes.
‘Do you trust me?’ I’m a fool, I know, but her answer matters more than just physical oblivion.
‘Yes, oh, Cam, yes.’
I slide my tongue over her opening back to the tight bud while I slather the plug with lube. But Orla’s not content to lie back and simply feel. She settles on her elbows and watches me, her mewls and moans of encouragement a guide to her pleasure.
When her hips begin to buck and her hands grow greedy, tugging on my hair as she rides my face, I press the tip of the plug to her rear. It’s small and she’s so close, it slides in with minimal resistance, but her moans grow to cries of pleasure and my beautiful, sexy Orla starts to chant my name like a prayer, filling my head and my chest and the parts of me that want more than her body with euphoria.
I keep up the suction on her clit, adding slow twists of the plug, while I watch her face with rapt attention, seeing every streak of pleasure. That she trusts me with her body, with her act of sexual exploration, resets my priorities. I can be myself with her; like this we’re just a man and a woman enjoying our near violent chemistry.
No amount of money, extravagant spending or working can re-create this feeling. This is real.
She may have had her fingers
