Speaking of. I roll her nipple between my lips and brush over the tip with my tongue. Her hands are running up and down my back, and she gets a little bit of nail into it. The edge of pain sets my nerves on fire, and I barrel forward. I wasn’t lying to her. I’ve been thinking about this all morning — thinking about last night and how badly I wanted a repeat performance.
Now, I have her body under mine, and I can’t get enough of the feel of her sweet, smooth skin underneath my rough palms. I run a hand from her breast down her belly and between her thighs. Just like last night, she opens her legs for me. I rub at her clit for just a moment before going a little lower. I creep my fingers inside of her just deep enough to bury my first knuckle. I switch from one breast to the other, and Grace is writhing beneath me, not able to control herself.
It feels damn good to have a woman lose control. I send my fingers in to the middle knuckle — I need to make sure not to go too deep – and I work the pads of my fingers against her upper wall. Grace gasps in air and lets it back out in high pitched moans over and over. God, I love a gasper. I love those noises. I love that her hips are working with me. I love that her spine is twisting and she can’t hold still. I love the taste of her skin on my tongue. I love her nails digging into my back.
I stroke in a slow, smooth rhythm as I move my mouth back up to hers. She cranes her neck up to meet me as I approach, and it’s the sweetest damn thing I’ve ever experienced. I open up and kiss her just as slowly and deliberately as I stroke her, and Grace whimpers into me. I feel her body tense in one giant flex of every muscle she possesses. That sweet pussy of hers tightens down on my fingers, and a flood of juices wets my palm.
A moment later, she collapses into the mattress with a sigh. She’s panting in breaths like she just ran a 5K at a dead sprint, and her eyes are fixed on the ceiling. I touch the little beads of sweat between her breasts. This feels good. Fuck that — this feels great.
Too great.
I roll away from her, and my feet hit the floor. I head directly to my dresser and pull out my workout clothes. There is a feeling of tightness in my chest, and I need to make it go away. I need to make it go away fast. I pull on my briefs then my sweats and turn to her. “I need to go for my morning run before shower and breakfast. Order us a meal for—” I check my watch “—seven o’clock delivery.”
She looks surprised in her groggy, post orgasmic state. “It’s not even seven yet?” She boosts herself up on her elbows, those beautiful breasts tempting me. “What do you like?”
What do I like? That right goddamn there, that’s what I like. Too much. “Eggs and meat. Find something on the menu — and don’t shower.”
I head out of my bedroom and straight toward the emergency exit of my penthouse. Emergency exit, my ass. I use this route every morning. Thanks to Grace, I’ve already had my early morning warm-up, so I hit the stairs right away, pumping my legs and getting my heart rate up first thing. I need to clear my head, and a good rush of blood always does that.
I’m not supposed to like how she looks in my bed this much — or between my legs. It’s not supposed to feel this good to make her come. I’m not that guy. I’m not the guy who falls for a woman after he sleeps with her. Screw that. I haven’t even fucked her. It must be because she’s a virgin — it’s the conquest. All I have to do is fuck her, and she’ll get out of my head.
Dammit. I can’t fuck her. That’s the whole point of this. It’s going to drive me bat shit crazy. I’m going to have to get her training over with as soon as possible, because I don’t know if I’m going to be able to resist sinking myself inside that tight pussy for too long. One week. That’s the minimum I promised Cal, and that’s as long as I’m going to be able to hold out. If I can hold out.
And what then? I’m just going to have to buy her, that’s what.
I spread my arms and legs wide on his bed, taking up as much room as possible. It’s amazing. There’s an energy flowing through my body — an energy that somehow relaxes me and makes me feel more happy and yet more mellow as I have ever been in my life — all at the same time. I love that I’m in a man’s bed. I love how it smells, and I love how my body feels.
I get out of Kaden’s bed and leave my robe on the floor, walking out into his penthouse naked and unashamed. Able to take in his apartment for the first time in solitude, I come to the conclusion that this place is amazing. I could get used to this life. Rich men and rich apartments. Men who know what to do with my body. I’m feeling ravenous — and ravished — a great combination to stoke my appetite.
There’s a touchscreen in the kitchen Kaden pointed out during dinner last night, and I bring it to life, navigating to the house menu. I select the vegan breakfast burrito for myself and eggs Benedict with a side of bacon for Kaden. I schedule for seven o’clock and select the Place Order option.
His apartment is a perfect temperature to walk around without any clothing. I’m feeling comfortable in my own skin, and I wander about his apartment, looking at the artwork and inspecting his bookshelf. What could I do with five hundred thousand dollars? Get out of debt. Transfer my credits from the community college to the university. Get out of the bad part of town and get a nice apartment — not anything like this — but something that would have enough space for all the kids to have their own room. Imagine that. No more bunkbeds or mattresses on the floor. Everyone can have their own door that they can close and have some privacy. The girls are going to be teenagers soon. They’ll appreciate that.
I could never tell them how I got the money. Would they guess? Of course, they would. They may be younger than me, but those girls are smart, and they’re streetwise. And they’ve been exposed to a side of life I hope they never have to see again.
It wasn’t always going to be like this, though. Kaden put me at such ease last night, I barely realized I was playing a part in a play. I wasn’t even using my real name. It was all an act for the job, but he didn’t make it feel like it. I actually had fun at dinner last night — not to mention in his bathroom. And this morning — Lord — this morning.
But, Kaden is putting on an act just as much as I am. He’s The Client, and I’m Scarlett. He pulled out of the act at times last night to remind me not to open myself up emotionally to the men I would be seeing. I would get hurt if I did that. He told me there’s no better way for a man to stroke his own ego than to get a call girl to fall in love with him.
So, no. I may be comfortable in his home like this, but this isn’t going to be my experience moving forward. The list of cons I’d written down on the legal pad back home before coming to the interview came back to mind. Would I want my younger brother and sisters to know what I’m doing? If they knew, would I want to know what they thought of me for it? Would they understand? I have two younger sisters — is this the lesson I want to teach them about how to get ahead in life? Sell yourself, you know — just a little. A piece here and a piece there. What will I be left with?
I stand at his bookshelf, absentmindedly running over the titles as I contemplate my position. I lose all sense of time as my brain struggles between the means and the end. I hear the click of the door and his sneakers on the kitchen tile.
I turn in that direction, my hands on my hips, and Kaden freezes in midstride. I’m confused for a moment before I realize — oh, shit — I’m still naked. He looks a little deer-in-headlights at first, but a smooth smile creeps over his lips as I cross my legs and lift my arms over my breasts.
My self-consciousness seeps back in, and I manage a quiet, “Hi.”
“Don’t do that.”
My anxiety creeps back in. Don’t what? Don’t be friendly? I’m so confused.
He gestures at me impatiently. “Don’t cover yourself. Show me.”
It feels like my stomach opens into an endless pit as I let my arms fall to my sides, and Kaden takes me in. A bulge forms at the front of his sweats. Dear Lord, the stamina of this man is amazing. I didn’t know guys can get that hard that often.
I go after him, lifting my forearms back over my breasts before I catch myself and lower them again so he can see everything he wants. He’s The Client. Scarlett is in tow. Kaden dips, taking his sweats with him, and when he stands, they remain behind. Behind. Lord, that ass. It’s chiseled, and his hamstrings and thighs vibrate with every step.
I lose sight of him as he enters his bedroom, and as soon as I step inside, I lose him again as he enters the bathroom. When I enter, Kaden is leaning into a massive, tiled shower and cranking on the controls. The water turns on full blast from multiple showerheads, and he backs away until he’s leaning against the counter, his cock at full mast. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to the size of that thing.
He wraps his big hand around his shaft and gives himself a slow pump. “Go get the temperature how you like it in the shower.”
I take small steps, being sure to keep my thighs closed. I lean into the shower, give the complex controls a once over, let the water run over my hand, and adjust things. When I come back out — Kaden is fixated on my ass. His eyes slowly trace up my body. I watch as he strokes his cock, mesmerized at the power in his form.
“You have it where you want it?” he asks, and I nod. “I’m feeling a little lonely, here. I know you masturbate. I want to see it. Show me.”
I feel the heat coming from the shower — or is that coming from me? I tentatively send a finger across to my inner thigh and to my pussy lips. I haven’t done this without my hair down there, and it feels so sensitive now. I’m already wet. I send a finger between my pussy lips and stroke up and down the slit, wishing to God it was his fingers, wondering how it would feel to have that big prick of his pressing into me.
His smug smile widens, and he asks, “Is it ready?”
Wet and ready and begging for more. “I’m ready.”
His smile turns dark. “I meant the temperature. Is the shower ready?”
There goes the heat of a blush again. I remove my hand from exploring my pussy and feel at the water. “Yes. Ready.”
“Get in.”
Thank the Lord. I need something else to occupy me. Multiple showerheads rain down on me from all directions. The shower is larger than a bedroom I once shared with my youngest sister in one of our apartments growing up. I tip my head into the water, savoring it and letting it wash over me.
I’m getting used to Kaden’s voice of command, and when he tells me, “Lather that soap and wash up, dirty girl,” I obey without hesitation. He doesn’t leave me to my own devices, and Kaden swaps out the soap with me.
I can’t imagine any more erotic moment to be in, and yet I can’t help but think I see something more than just carnal desire in his eyes. I know I feel it. Once again, this is all new to me, and it may be just my subconscious reaction to the first man I’ve ever been with like this. And yet, he’s looking at me with this air of possession I have never experienced. He looks at me as though I’m his, and I feel drawn to the concept of his owning me.
Everything within me tells me this isn’t real. My brain reminds me of what this very man told me last night. That I am a conquest. That men will use me. I don’t feel used by Kaden. I want to be his conquest. I want to believe what I see in this moment — that he wants me — me, not Scarlett.
“Come closer,” he tells me.
I want nothing more. Naked and dripping with soap, I near Kaden until I’m as close to him as I can be without our bodies touching. He grabs hold of his firm cock and strokes, looking down at me with those eyes that speak of his desire to be inside me.
“What can I do for you? How can I make you feel good?” I ask.
A big, wolfish grin comes over his lips. “You’re going to be very good at this, dirty girl. That’s just the kind of question I wanted to hear. You know what you can do?” He wraps an arm around me and pulls my body to his. He backs me up against the tile and lifts one of my thighs around his hip. “I want you to take my cock. I want you to rub me off against your clit. Like this.”
Kaden lays his rock hard erection vertically against my pussy lips and strokes himself against my swollen clitoris. I lay my head back against the tile and take hold of his manhood. He lets go and gives me control, and I slide my palm up and down his shaft, rubbing his full length up my slit, getting us both off in the process.
He keeps hold of one ass cheek and leans the other forearm against the tile, bringing himself even closer to me. With one hand, I pump him — using my hips to aid our rocking motion — and direct my other hand around his neck. Kaden angles down and seizes me with a passionate kiss. I moan into his mouth as I stroke, the heat of our bodies warming the water between us.
I pick up my pace, wanting desperately to have him inside, but knowing this is as close as I will be to having him. The friction of his cock against my clit sends a fire through my belly, and an orgasm rips through me, weakening my knees. Kaden holds me up, deep groans now coming between each kiss. He breaks our contact and snarls. I feel him twitch in the palm of my hand, and a jet of cum spurts onto my stomach, the water washing it away as soon as it hits. I milk him, and he tenses as an aftershock runs through him, and he comes a little more.
Kaden leans against me, his lips near my ear as he catches his breath. “You are something else, Grace. Stay here. I have something for you.”
I remain leaning against the tile as my god of a sexual mentor steps out and grabs a towel. I touch myself, feeling empty and wanting, watching Kaden’s glorious muscles flex and move as he runs the towel over his hair and down his body. He’s absolutely gorgeous, and I cannot believe how radically things have changed from two days ago. I was sitting in an office — untouched by any man — looking for a job, and now I am sharing a shower with that body pressed up against mine as we both bring ourselves to climax.
Kaden leaves the room and is back within the minute. He drops the towel and steps inside the shower with two objects — a small, cylindrical object and an even smaller bottle.
“What is that?” I ask.
The water hits him once again, dousing that gorgeous body. He holds them both up, shaking them gently in turn. “This — this is waterproof lubricant. And this — this is a butt plug, my dirty girl.”
If I can’t have her pussy, I’ll take her ass.
The look on her face automatically contorts to that of concern. I hold my index finger up next to the little cylinder. “This is one of the smallest they make. You’re barely going to notice it’s there. But I need to be inside you — and this is the only way I can have you.”
God, those delicious lips of hers tremble as she looks up at me. I can see the wanton desire etched across her face. A surge of possessiveness runs through me as I recognize what that look means. She wants me, too. My grip increases on the items I brought into the shower with me, and I play out a battle — doing everything to convince myself not to throw her into my bed and ravage her right here and now.
I don’t know if I can last much longer, so I need to take action. “I need to get that virgin ass of yours warmed up for this big boy. Spread your legs. Hands on the tile.”
She keeps her eyes on me as she turns. She leans her hands up against the tile as directed and spreads her legs out. The water runs down her back and over the curvature of her hips and ass, and it’s a mesmerizing site. The droplets coursing around her skin and running down her legs. I use a directing hand to guide her to bend further — dipping her to a near ninety-degree angle.
This is not helping my self-control. Her pussy lips are open to me, my cock is still in the perpetual state of arousal it has been in since she has arrived, and this is the perfect angle for me to just take her. I squeeze lubricant onto the butt plug, instead. She’s still watching me, her teeth digging into that bottom lip of hers.
I take a knee on the tile floor behind her and place my hand on the back of her thigh. She’s tense. This won’t w
ork. “You need to relax, dirty girl.”
I know something that will help. I open up her ass cheeks with one hand and run my tongue from her pussy lips to her asshole. She tenses up more at first, but I know she’s about to melt. I repeat the motion, lapping up her juices and the water alike. I can feel her swollen clitoris, but I direct my attention to that tight bud I want to be inside of. I round my tongue around that forbidden place between her ass cheeks, and I know my dirty little virgin wants more. She dips the small of her back, angling her ass to give me better access, and I can hear the moans she’s trying to stifle.
Grace’s knees buckle, and her muscles relax. She becomes a bit unsteady on her feet. That’s a good girl. I use my finger first, pushing against her tight hole to give her an idea of the pressure. The tightness in her muscles gives way as I continue to lick and push. Next, I lube up that sensitive area and press in. There’s a high pitched groan, but she pushes her ass backward, asking for more.
I work the small cylinder in and out in shallow thrusts until it is fully seated. I stand up behind her and wrap my hands around her hips as she bends double in front of me. My cock still wants inside of her, and I angle it down until it is seated between her legs and rubbing against her clitoris. I bend over top of her, using one hand to support myself against the tiled wall, and the other travels further around and slips between her pussy lips.
I sink my teeth into the nape of her neck and run a finger up and down her slit, making sure that she’s still wet and horny for me. Her juices flowing, Grace is wiggling her rear end into my groin, tempting me to break my oath and bury myself inside of her. I want so badly to take possession of this woman — to take her and call her mine and never let any other man touch her body.
The Virgin Escort: A Billionaire & Virgin Romance Page 4
