She laughs. “You’re so filthy. They were right in the lunchroom.”
“I don’t know why they’re talking about me in the lunchroom. I’ve never slept with anyone at the office.”
“I think it’s more hopeful fantasizing.”
I smirk and kiss her. “Well?”
“Yes, Harry. I’d like you to fuck my mouth.” Her cheekbones stain red, but her eyes are bright.
I kiss around to her ear while I stroke my hand down her body to her hip. Then I move it around to her butt. “What about here?” I slide my fingers down between her cheeks as far as I can reach and tease the area there.
“I… mmm… I’ve never…”
Waa-hey, an anal virgin. The thought of introducing her to that makes my head spin. “Would you like to?”
“I did say, Harry. Every place.” She’s breathing hard now.
“Does that turn you on? The thought of giving yourself over to me? Of letting me do whatever I want to this sweet body?”
She groans.
I shift the angle of my hips so I’m grinding against her, enjoying the way her lips part and her eyelids flutter. I’m not going to be able to hold back much longer. She’s spread out before me, all soft and hot and wet, and her excitement is a turn on I hadn’t expected.
I lift up onto my hands and push up her knees, and now when I thrust, I’m plunging down into her. Gaby cries out, and a sexy flush spreads up from her chest as her blood heats up.
“Yes,” she says, panting, tightening her hands in my hair. “Oh fuck, yes.”
I hadn’t meant to be rough, but every time I move, she reacts with such a sexy groan that eventually I give in and let my body take over. I pound into her with deep, hard thrusts, and the air is filled with the sexy slurp and suck of me plunging into her where she’s so wet, the slap of my hips against the back of her thighs, and my grunts and her cries of pleasure.
She claws at my back, and I drop my mouth briefly to her breasts and suck hard on her nipples before returning to her lips where I kiss her, groaning at the way she darts her tongue inside.
“Oh God,” she whispers, “oh my fucking God, oh God,” and I know what she means, because it’s hot and sweaty and sexy as fuck, and she’s the hottest chick I’ve ever met. I’m having to hang onto the headboard as I drive into her, but it’s banging against the wall, and I think I might be thrusting her head against the board too but she’s not complaining, and I can’t do anything about it because I’m going to come, and there’s not a lot I can do about it. My balls tighten, heat rushes through me, and then I feel every spasm as fluid bursts from me in jet after hot jet, so many times that for a moment I worry the condom isn’t going to be able to hold it all.
I feel Gabriella’s gaze on me as the climax rolls over me, and her hands are so tight in my hair I think she might have pulled a few handfuls out at the roots. I open my eyes and look into hers. She’s smiling, but I don’t think she’s come yet, so I continue to thrust, making sure I’m grinding against her. Her eyes widen again, her mouth forms an O, and then her eyelids flutter shut. I pick up the pace again, slamming the headboard against the wall, and the orgasm that never really finished continues to ripple through me when Gaby finally comes, milking every last fucking drop out of me with pulse after pulse of excruciating clenches that leave me shuddering and groaning when she eventually collapses back onto the bed.
“Ow,” is the first thing she says. “My head.”
I have been banging her against the headboard. I curse as she starts laughing, each contraction of her muscles squeezing my already sensitive cock, and I withdraw from her, then fall onto my back.
“Stop complaining,” I tell her, panting, pulling her tightly against me. “You wanted one hundred percent.”
“I didn’t know it involved driving me into the next apartment.”
That makes me laugh, and soon the two of us are chuckling away, too exhausted to do anything but lie there and let the sleepy after-sex hormones creep over us.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I mumble.
“Of course not. Slight bruising to the skull notwithstanding. And tomorrow I’ll be walking as if I’ve been horse-riding.”
“I seem to recall you requesting that. I aim to please.”
“Mmm. Yes, you do, Harrison.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “You really do.”
Chapter Eleven
Gabriella
I lie in Harrison’s arms, and drift in that pleasurable world between waking and sleeping. My body still seems to be humming, like a tuning fork struck some time ago that continues to bear an inaudible vibration for ages after it’s struck. I feel all loose and limp, as if I’ve run a marathon and collapsed at the finish line. Not that I’ve ever run a marathon. The thought makes me want to giggle, but I’m too exhausted even to do that.
My head, though, is whirring, filled with images of what we’ve just done, as well as thinking about what to do now. I want to stay here forever. But is he expecting me to get up and leave? How long have I been lying here? Maybe thirty minutes or so. What’s the protocol for one-night stands? Surely, it’s okay to bask in the afterglow for a while, but is there a period after which it’s awkward to stay?
Colette told me that the three male directors don’t appreciate women who distract them from their work, and even though it worked out for her, I’m under no illusions that this night with Harrison is anything more than a one-night stand. He wanted to take me to bed, and he’s done that. He’s quenched his thirst, and as soon as he rouses he might be restless for me to leave. The last thing I want to do is overstay my welcome—I don’t want to see an impatient smile or a glitter of irritation in his eyes. I don’t want anything to spoil the beauty of this evening.
Slowly, reluctantly, I push myself up onto an elbow. At some point, he drew the duvet over us—I don’t remember him doing that. His eyes are closed, and I think he might be asleep. I take the corner of the duvet, peel it off me, and swing my legs over the edge.
Instantly, an arm slides around my waist, strong as a steel bar, and a deep, sexy voice says, “Where do you think you’re going?”
I let him pull me back onto the mattress. He’s upside down, and I sigh as he leans over me and plants his lips on mine in a Spidey kiss.
“I wasn’t sure if you were expecting me to go,” I say when he eventually lifts up.
He gives me a look I can’t decipher because I’m the wrong way up. “What gave you that impression?”
“Uh… I thought that was what people did on one-night stands.”
He purses his lips. “I told you, I’m going to chain you to the headboard for a month. Possibly a year. You’re never leaving this room again.”
I chuckle. “It’s a nice thought.”
He tips his head to the side and runs a finger down my nose. “Some girls would run a mile if a man said that to them. What makes you so sure I’m not a maniac?”
“You are a maniac.”
“I mean a sex-mad one?”
“I stand by my previous comment.”
He gives me an upside-down sarcastic look. “You know what I mean. Some kind of pervert who would chain you up and practice all kinds of unseemly acts on you.”
“Still sounds like you.” I raise a hand, slide my fingers into his hair, and pull his mouth down to mine. We exchange a long, lingering kiss that starts me tingling right at the tips of my toes. Jeez, this man turns the dial up to eleven on everything. Why is it that I seem to feel everything more when I’m with him? It’s like the moon shines brighter, and the wine tastes sweeter. Weird.
He kisses my nose and my eyebrows, then my forehead. “Sorry about the headboard,” he says.
“I didn’t notice it at the time. I’ll probably have a bump the size of a walnut, but it was worth it.”
A smile touches his lips. “It was?”
“Best. Sex. Ever.”
He gives me another wry look. “I don’t see how. I couldn’t even get out of missionary.”<
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“Doesn’t matter. It ain’t what you do, mister, it’s the way that you do it. No wonder you have a reputation if you’re like that with every girl.”
“I’m not,” he says.
“Not what?”
“Like that with every girl.” He pushes up and leans over to get our wine glasses. “Here.” He passes me mine.
I roll onto my side and take it, watching him lean back against the pillows. I could let that comment go, but he’s intrigued me. “What do you mean, not like that with every girl?”
He shrugs and sips his wine. “Was it like that with Alex?”
“No.”
“Why not? As I said, it was only missionary.”
“That’s true. You didn’t put anything where it hadn’t gone before.”
He laughs. “No. Not yet.” Eyes gleaming, he has another swallow of wine.
My heart rate speeds up a bit. His hair is all ruffled where I’ve clutched my fingers in it. He’s so handsome, but it’s not just the angle of his jaw or the color of his eyes that gives me that special sizzle. It’s the way he looks at me. He’s right—the mechanics of the sex might not have been exceptional, but it was the passion behind them that set me alight. Alex had sex with me when he felt horny, and although at the time I didn’t have anything to complain about, it’s only now that I can see how lackluster it was. I don’t think he looked at me once in our whole relationship the way that Harrison’s been looking at me all evening.
“What?” Harrison asks. “You look sad.”
I smile. “I like the way you look at me. You make me feel… special.”
“That makes you sad?”
“Only because Alex didn’t look at me like that. Or at least, he hadn’t for a long time.”
“If you were my girl,” Harrison says, “I’d make you feel special every day.”
I lift my gaze to his. He’s not smiling now. In fact, he looks a little puzzled. He drops his gaze first, and I wonder whether he’s regretting saying it. I decide not to pursue it, because it was almost certainly an offhand comment, and I’m sure he’s hoping I don’t turn it into a thing.
“It’s easy to say that,” I continue, “but I suppose the shine wears off every relationship after a few years. My parents are divorced. So are yours, by the sound of it. I don’t think any of my friends have dated anyone for longer than four or five years. Divorce is more common than it’s ever been. People no longer feel the need to stay together after having kids, so mixed families are the norm now. So, the notion of starting a new relationship doesn’t fill me with a warm glow.”
“I guess. But most people don’t go into a relationship expecting it to fizzle out. We all crave companionship, don’t you think?”
“Even you?”
He laughs. “Maybe one day I’ll settle down. I’m not dead set against it. But it’s not high on my list of priorities.”
“You want kids?”
I wait for him to pull a face or scowl, but to my surprise he just tips his head from side to side. “Same thing. It’s not high on my To Do list. But do I see myself aged eighty sitting in my chair with my teeth in a jar and my grandson on my knee? Yeah, maybe.”
I chuckle. “That’s a nice image.”
“You want kids?”
“Eventually. I’ve got a lot of things I want to do first though. I want to see the world so I can have lots of stories to tell my kids when I’m old. I don’t want to be chained to the kitchen sink at twenty-six, you know?”
“How about chained to the bed?”
I wrinkle my nose. “That’s more appealing.”
He smiles and sips his wine. Then he says, “Did tonight help you to get over Alex?”
I decide to be honest. “Yeah, but probably not in the way you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve been blaming Alex for our breakup, but you’ve helped me to understand how the sparkle had faded from our relationship, and we’re both responsible for that.”
“That’s not an excuse to cheat on your partner,” he scolds.
“No, true, but I mean that maybe I had more to do with it than I realized at first. I don’t think he was happy, and I’m not sure I was, either, but I ignored it, you know? Even Mel herself mentioned it, so I suppose I should have been forewarned.”
“Whose Mel?”
I’d forgotten that I hadn’t told him the whole story. I chew my bottom lip. “My sister.” I take a big swallow of wine. “That’s who Alex had an affair with.”
Chapter Twelve
Harrison
I go quiet, and eventually Gabriella lifts her gaze to meet mine.
“Your ex cheated on you with your sister,” I state flatly.
“Yeah.” Her lips twist. “A double betrayal.”
I can only stare at her for a while. Colette told me that Gaby took the breakup with Alex badly. I’ve been having trouble understanding why. The dickhead cheated on her, for a start, and it doesn’t sound as if she was madly in love with him. Now, though, it makes more sense. From what she’s been saying, it sounds as if things were going downhill, and maybe Gaby would have eventually concluded that it was over, but for the bastard to sleep with her sister… And for this Mel to sleep with her sister’s boyfriend…
“Holy shit,” I say eventually. “That’s fucking awful.”
“Yeah.” She sips her wine to cover her emotion. “I took it really hard.” She swallows, then lifts her chin, a lovely little gesture that tells me she’s determined not to let it get her down any longer. “The thing is, I blamed them both, but now I’ve cooled down I can see the signs I was blind to at the time. About a year ago, Alex and I had a God-awful row about something, and I walked out and went around to Mel’s. She told me then that I had to be careful or I’d lose him. I had a go at her for being so negative—I wanted her to tell me it was all his fault. But she was right, in a way.”
“Were they sleeping together then?”
“I don’t think so. I think it started a few months after that. But it might have been the beginning. Don’t glare—I know you think there’s no excuse for cheating. I’m just saying I should have seen it coming. I know now, after being with you, that whatever had been there between us in the beginning had… faded, I suppose, if not vanished completely. I know you have to work at a relationship to make it work, but I was caught up in everyday life stuff, and I suppose I just thought he’d always be there, you know?”
After being with you. What she means is that this is exciting, especially for someone who’s never had a one-night stand. She’s only ever slept with one person, for Christ’s sake. She hasn’t just stepped out of her comfort zone, she’s practically moved to the next country, so of course it’s going to be exciting.
Even so, I discover I’m strangely pleased by her comment.
She looks sad, though, and that irritates me. I don’t want her to be sad about her ex. I want to smash his face in, and have her do a victory dance around him.
“He should have talked to you about it,” I tell her. “Or broken up with you. Not cheated on you. That wasn’t your fault, Gaby, and you don’t deserve that.”
She reaches up and touches my face. “You’re very sweet.”
My eyebrows rise. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before.”
“Well, you are. Sweet… and very, very sexy. I’ve had a fantastic evening.”
“So far.” My body has had enough time to recover from our heated session, and desire is starting to stir again as my gaze slips down her naked body. Her breasts and thighs are shining in the moonlight, and her nipples are plump and full. I want to suck them to tight peaks, nice and hard, so it makes her squeal and wriggle beneath me.
Her lips have parted, and I know she can see the passion in my eyes. “I might not be able to keep you as a sex slave for a whole month,” I tell her. “I’m sure I can manage it for one night though.”
She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue and shivers.
I put my glass on the bedside table, lift up, and move over her, so I’m looking down on her.
“You said it,” I remind her. “‘Fuck me all night if you want, any way you want,’ wasn’t that what you said?”
“Um…”
“You said ‘use me. Make me your sex slave.’ Or am I remembering that wrong?”
“No,” she whispers. “I did say that.”
“Have you changed your mind?”
She gives a little smile, and a shy look. “No.”
She’s all highlights and shadows in this moonlit night, and it makes me itch to get my camera out and take some classy black-and-white shots. I’ve been a keen photographer since I was a kid, and she’s framed perfectly, with her silky brown hair pooling on the bed, and her breasts and the swell of her hips painted silver. She stirs on the bed, sliding her thighs together, and I know she’s feeling turned on, too, at this little fun game we’re playing.
I place her glass on the bedside table, and then take her hands in mine. Slowly, I move them above her head, and pin them there.
“You’re mine,” I tell her, looking into her eyes. “You belong to me.”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Just for tonight, I own you. I’m going to do whatever I want to your body, and you’re not going to stop me.” Holding both of her hands with one of mine, I slide the other down over her breasts, stopping to tug her nipples on the way, over her tummy, and down over her soft skin to between her legs. She’s still a little swollen and slippery from her earlier orgasms, and my fingers slide easily down through her folds and inside her.
“Aaahhh,” she says, and when I circle my thumb across her clit, she shudders.
“Are you sure about this?” I say, my voice sounding husky, even to me. “Because if you’re not, feel free to get up and leave now. But if you stay, you’re telling me that it’s okay for me to fuck you whatever way I choose, until you’re so exhausted you beg me to stop.”
I’m half playing with her. I do want to fuck her again. And again. And again, if I have the energy. But although the alpha thing is fun to play at in bed, a woman always has the final say. I’d never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Good sex is about testing boundaries and trying new things, and both parties should always have the option to back away if they want to. But sometimes we need a little… persuasion, and I’m happy to help, if that’s what she needs.
Like a Boss Box Set: Like a Boss Series Books 1-4 Page 15
