by Nikki Ash
When his mouth gets to my collarbone, he stops, the material of my shirt blocking him from going any farther. His gaze connects with mine, silently asking if he can continue, and to answer him, I lift the shirt over my head and drop it to the ground. I took my bra off earlier when I showered and never put it back on, so my breasts are bared to him.
With a swipe of his tongue across his lips, he dips down and takes one of my breasts into his hand and mouth. He licks my nipple and then sucks on it. An electrical current zaps through my body, going straight to the area between my legs that’s been dormant my entire life.
“Let’s take this inside,” he murmurs, lifting me by my ass and carrying me inside. He drops me onto the bed and then removes his shirt, exposing his hard chest and steel-cut abs. I knew he was fit underneath that suit, but I didn’t know just how fit he is. He pushes his sweats down, leaving him in only his briefs, which are outlining his rock-hard dick.
I lie in his bed, waiting for him to tell me what he wants, but then it hits me… I’m not his escort. This is consensual, which means I can do as I please. Take what I want. Give how I see fit.
Excited to actually be able to participate instead of having to take orders, I sit up and tug his briefs down. His dick springs free and I take a moment to admire it. It’s thick and long, the surrounding area neatly trimmed. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting him.
He glances down at me, as if he’s waiting to see what I’ll do next, so I take charge, fisting his shaft and pulling him toward me. He dips down and his mouth closes over mine. I stroke his dick up and down, using the bit of pre-cum from the tip of his head to create friction.
He pushes me back slightly, never breaking our kiss, and climbs over my body, separating my legs so they wrap around his torso. His strong arms cage me in, and he grinds his hard length against my center.
“I need you,” I moan against his mouth, but he ignores me, continuing to kiss me. “Please,” I beg, when his pelvis rubs against my own.
“Shhh,” he murmurs. “We have all night.”
He breaks our kiss and untangles my legs from around him. He pulls my sweats and panties down my thighs and legs and tosses them to the side. I’m completely naked and exposed to him, and yet I’ve never felt so comfortable.
He drags himself slowly down my body, placing random kisses all over my skin. His lips land on my hipbone, and he kisses the tiny quote that reads, “Still I rise.”
“What is this for?” he asks.
“I got it the day after my virginity was taken from me,” I admit.
His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he kisses it again, his lips lingering on the words. Then he trails his lips across my belly until he gets to my other hipbone, where another quote lies.
“This doesn’t define me,” he reads, before he kisses the tattoo. When his lips softly press against my flesh, my throat clogs with emotion. Nobody has ever been close enough to read my words, my thoughts. They were for me, to remind myself that even when I felt weak, I was still strong. No man has ever paid enough attention to my body to notice them, to care to notice them.
As Liam peppers kisses along my inner thigh, I shouldn’t feel as emotional as I do, but I can’t help it. I’ve seen it in movies, listened to my friends Aria and Amber tell me about the way their men worship them, but I’ve never felt it myself. I know this is just a fling and it doesn’t mean anything—isn’t going anywhere—but it doesn’t stop my heart from feeling like it’s so full, it’s about to spill over.
Liam spreads my legs farther and then licks up my center. My body shudders in pleasure and he chuckles against my flesh. “Fuck, woman, you taste so good.”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes at his accented words.
“What?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing.
“I love your accent.”
He snorts. “My accent? You’re the one with the accent. Now hush up, while I eat my dessert.”
I’m about to say something back, but am silenced by the flat of his tongue gliding upward and landing on my clit. His teeth bite down gently, and his lips wrap around the sensitive nub, sucking on it. My back bows off the bed at the insane amount of pleasure he’s creating.
“Liam,” I breathe. “I need…”
“I know,” he replies, then goes back to licking me. With his teeth and tongue and lips, he devours my pussy, until my entire body is shaking from my orgasm and I’m screaming out his name.
Needing him closer, I pull him up and kiss him hard. I moan into his mouth when the tangy taste of myself on his tongue and lips assaults my taste buds.
My legs wrap around his back and I push him into me. It’s been a long time and he’s a tight fit, but holy Jesus does he feel good inside of me. He wastes no time filling me completely.
When he pulls back and then pushes in, it sparks something deep within me. “Again,” I rasp, desperate to feel it again. He pulls out then fills me again, then again and again. Before long I’m panting unabashedly as our bodies connect in the most intimate way.
My orgasm rips through me like a tidal wave, and Liam’s mouth connects with mine, swallowing down my moans of pleasure. Warmth fills my insides and I’m lost in everything that is Liam as he growls out his own release.
He pulls out of me and wraps me up in his strong, comforting arms from behind, throwing the blanket over us. “It’s never felt like this before,” I admit softly, nuzzling my face into the crook of his shoulder as my eyes flutter closed. Between the long day, the bottles of wine, and the multiple orgasms, I’m crashing fast.
But before sleep overtakes me, I swear I hear Liam say, “It’s never felt this way for me either.” I think he kisses the back of my head too, but I’m too far gone to be sure.
Chapter Five
Natalie
I wake up to the feel of a hard-on pressing against my backside. I pry my eyes open and it takes a second to remember where I am—in a hotel room, and not just any hotel room, but the Presidential suite—and who I’m with—Liam, the man I was supposed to set up with an escort at La Stella’s, only I ended up with him instead. My temples throb, reminding me I drank way too much wine last night, and I close my eyes, the memories of our evening coming back to me. The eating. The drinking. The dancing. The sex. The sex. Even in my half-drunken state, I can still remember the way Liam worshipped every inch of my body. The way he coaxed the most delicious orgasm out of me and then did it all over again.
“Are you moaning in your sleep or are you remembering last night?” he murmurs into my ear. My eyes pop open, realizing I was remembering last night a little too well.
His hand glides down my bare hip and he turns me over so I’m on my back. I don’t have time to worry about how I look or whether I have morning breath, before he reaches across my chest and pulls my breast into his mouth, licking on the rose-dusted nipple. His tongue is wet, and it sends chills of pleasure through my body.
I peer down and watch as he sucks on my nipple while massaging my other breast in his palm. I notice everything Liam does is with care, for not just his pleasure but also my own. He could teach men a thing or two about being selfless in bed.
He releases my breast and then his mouth brushes against mine. He tastes of mint, and I wonder when he got up and brushed his teeth, but the thought is pushed away when he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring my own.
Without breaking our kiss, I climb on top of him, and he grips the curves of my hips to help steady me. I’m already wet, can feel it dripping between my legs, so I don’t waste any time guiding Liam’s hard dick into me. My hands grab ahold of the back of the headboard and I ride him. At first slowly, finding what feels good. I’ve ridden men many times in my life, but it was always about them. They wanted it hard and fast.
Liam watches my face, his features bleeding pleasure, but he doesn’t tell me what to do. He doesn’t rush me or demand I hurry up. He lets me explore. When the head of his dick hits a spot deep within me, I
moan, loving how good it feels. I do it again and again. My body tightening in anticipation. As my orgasm overtakes me, Liam rakes his fingers through my hair and pulls me down to him, kissing me hard and passionately as the most exquisite orgasm rocks me to my core.
Before I’ve come down from my high, he flips us over and enters me in one fluid motion. My legs come up and his hands grip the backs of my thighs as he drills into me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls, before pulling back and gripping his shaft. He strokes his dick a couple times and then ropes of cum spurt out, landing all over my belly and breasts.
And that’s when it hits me. We haven’t used any protection. Shit. Did he pull out last night?
“Jesus, woman,” he breathes. “I could live inside you for the rest of my life and be content.”
I know he’s just joking, but the sound of that—of being with him for the rest of our lives—has those crazy butterflies attacking my belly.
He dips his head and kisses me one more time, then crawls off me. “Shower with me,” he says, already scooping me up into his arms before I can answer.
We’re quiet while we shower, but it’s a comfortable silence. I’ve never showered with a man before, but as Liam massages the shampoo and then conditioner into my scalp, I decide that I highly recommend it and hope to do it again in the future, sooner rather than later.
And with that thought, my heart plummets into my stomach. After this weekend, Liam will be gone, and I’ll be back to showering alone. But I refuse to dwell on what happens after he leaves, reminding myself that I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this weekend.
“I ordered you some clothes,” he tells me, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “I went off your sizes. I also ordered breakfast.”
“Don’t you just think of everything,” I joke, kissing him back.
“I didn’t want to risk you leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assure him. Not until Monday morning anyway…
After we’re done in the shower, dried and dressed, we plate up some of the delicious food he had brought up and take it out onto the balcony.
We spend the morning lounging around, eating and talking. It’s crazy how comfortable I feel with Liam. I’ve only known him for less than a day, but it feels like it’s been longer. I had clients I would see several times a week for weeks, sometimes even months, at a time, yet I never felt as close and comfortable with them as I do with him.
When lunch rolls around, he orders us a couple of mahi sandwiches and a bottle of that delicious wine from last night.
“I’m going to need to order a case of this,” I tell him, reading the label on the bottle before pouring myself another glass. “It’s from Napa Valley.”
“I’ve heard they have beautiful vineyards over there. Have you ever been? They’re not too far from here, right?”
“No, but I want to travel.” I think about all the plans I’ve dreamed about over the years.
“Where to?” he asks, taking a bite of his sandwich and washing it down with a sip of wine.
“Everywhere. I would start in California, visit the vineyards and then maybe work my way across the US, hitting up every photographic place, or I would go big and fly overseas, travel the world. My dream is to start a blog. Travel from place to place, taking pictures and writing about what I’ve seen.”
A grin spreads across Liam’s face. “That sounds like the perfect way to live.”
I nod in agreement.
“What made you want to do that?”
“When I was in college, I took a journalism class—”
“You attended college?” he asks, cutting me off, his voice filled with curiosity.
“Yes, I graduated last year with a degree in journalism.”
“That’s awesome. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Sorry, so you took a journalism class and…”
“The professor had us take pictures and then write about them. What did we see? How did they make us feel? Before we could show others what we saw, she had us share the images, so everyone else could write what they saw. It was so eye-opening to see how one image could ignite so many different opinions and emotions.”
“Where have you traveled so far?” he asks, leaning in closer to me. We’re sitting in a double lounger and my legs are wrapped up in his own. The hand he’s not eating with is massaging circles along my thigh. Even though he had clothes brought in for me, I chose to go with only his shirt and a pair of panties he bought.
“Nowhere.”
“Nowhere?” he parrots, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Why not? You’re a young, single woman. You could go anywhere, see anything.”
He’s right. I could. But… “I’m scared,” I admit for the first time out loud. When my friend Aria moved to Italy and then Giovanni shortly followed after, we stayed in touch. She’s invited me to visit numerous times over the years, but I’ve never gotten the courage to go.
“Why?”
“The bordello is all I’ve ever known. It saved me when I was younger, and I guess it’s where I feel safe.” I shrug, hating that I probably sound stupid. I dip my face and take a sip of my wine, but Liam isn’t having it, because he presses his thumb and forefinger against my chin and lifts my face, so I’m forced to look at him.
“You can’t live in fear.”
“I know…” But it’s easier said than done. “One day I will.” The fact is, because I’ve lived at the bordello for the last five years, and they pay for everything, I have a good amount of money in the bank. I could take off and travel the world for quite a few years before I would have to worry about money. But it would mean leaving the place I feel safe, and I don’t know if I could do it on my own.
Liam pulls his phone out of his sweatpants pocket and types on it. “A nine-hour drive,” he says a few seconds later. “Less than an hour by plane.”
“Huh?”
“To Napa Valley.” He types some more. “Let’s go. We can be there in a couple hours. We can visit…” He glances at the label. “Napa Hills Estates.”
“What?” Is he serious right now? “Are you crazy? We would have to book flights and a hotel… And what about you needing to stay under the radar?”
He types some more and then grins. “The pilot said we’re good to go.” He pats my leg, gesturing for me to get up, so I do. “Get dressed and then we’ll head out.”
“Liam,” I croak out, in shock. “We can’t just—”
He cuts me off. “We can and we are. We’ll stop at the store on the way and I’ll have Harold run in and buy you a camera.” He says all of this nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just suggest we hop on a plane and fly over to California.
“You’re only here for a couple days,” I remind him.
“And we’ll be back tonight,” he volleys.
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t think. Just do. We only have a couple days together and I want to be there when you visit your first place. You can take pictures and make your first blog post.”
My heart beats erratically. There must be a million reasons why I should tell him this isn’t a good idea, but at the moment, I can’t think of a single one. As a matter of fact, the only thing I can think of is how much I want to visit Napa Valley with Liam by my side. He’s the first guy I’ve been with of my own volition, the first guy I’ve connected with, and I would love nothing more than to make this crazy memory with him, so years from now when I’m looking back, I can remember our time together.
“Okay,” I tell him. “Let’s do this.”
A couple hours later, courtesy of Liam’s private plane, pilot, rental SUV, and Harold, we’re driving past acres and acres of vineyards—just us. I texted Nico and told him where we’re going and that I don’t need the guard anymore. I trust Liam. Nico texted back, telling me he isn’t thrilled about it, but he’ll respect my wishes, and if I need anything, to call him. I’m using the camera Harold bought on the way
to the airport and Liam charged on the plane to take picture after picture of the beautiful scenery.
When I see the sign for Napa Hills Estates, I snap one more photo, then turn the camera off. “This place is beautiful,” I murmur, trying to look to the left and right at the same time—not wanting to miss anything.
Liam chuckles. “You’re going to give yourself whiplash. Whatever you miss, we can see later. We have all afternoon.”
We pull up to the front of the estate, but Harold doesn’t stop, instead continuing around back. “Do you think we’ll be able to look around?” I ask.
“Of course.” He laughs. “Do you think we just came here to stare out the window?”
I playfully slap his arm. “I don’t know! It’s all so unexpected. I know you have to stay low…”
“I handled it,” he says with a wink that has my insides turning into mush.
The SUV comes to a stop and Harold opens the door for me. I slide out and thank him, then meet Liam around the front.
An impeccably dressed woman with a big smile on her face comes bustling out. “Mr. and Mrs. Smith, it’s so nice to meet you. My name is Patricia, the person you spoke with on the phone.”
She shakes each of our hands, and I glance at Liam, confused. Who the hell are the Smiths?
Liam leans over and whispers, “You know, the Smiths, like in the movie.” I laugh. It was the movie we watched on the plane ride over, although there wasn’t much watching, since we couldn’t keep our hands and mouths to ourselves.
“Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice,” Liam tells her, quickly shaking her hand and then wrapping his arm around my waist. “My wife loved your 2018 Sauvignon Blanc, and when she suggested we buy a case, I figured what better way than to fly over and visit the estate ourselves.”
He glances over at me and kisses my cheek, and I damn near turn into a puddle right here on the sidewalk. I know he’s just playing up the whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith cover story to hide his true identity, but the idea of being his wife has me feeling giddy, which is probably not a good thing since we just met and have no future.
