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I take her hand in mine, close it around my cock, and show her how to stroke me, and then I remove my hand and she continues, accompanying it with kisses, and then finally closing her mouth over the head. I hold my breath, then let out a long sigh as she brushes her tongue across me and sucks. Ahhh… fuck…
She carries on, and I let her know when I like what she’s doing with heartfelt sighs and grunts. She looks up at me with her big dark eyes, which is so sexy that it doesn’t take long before I feel my climax approaching like a bullet train.
“Ah, baby girl…” I do the same as she did and slide my hand into her hair. “I’m going to come…” I don’t want to do that when she’s never done it before—I’m sure that can put a girl off for life.
She doesn’t move, though, and it occurs to me that maybe she really is innocent and doesn’t understand what’s going to happen. “Honey…” I implore, “you need to stop, or I’ll come in your mouth…”
Instead, she slides her lips further down the shaft… oh fuck… there’s no coming back from that, I couldn’t stop if she begged me now. Heat rushes through me, everything contracts, and my climax washes over me like a tsunami. Aaahhh… I groan, long and loud as she strokes me, and feel her throat tighten as she swallows.
Holy fuck…
When I’m done, I lie there and press the heels of my hands into my eyeballs as she kisses up my chest and lies on top of me.
I move my hands and glare at her. “I tried to warn you.”
“Nom nom nom,” she says. She licks her lips. “Want a taste?”
“Jesus…” There’s no time to protest as she crushes her lips to mine and delves her tongue into my mouth, so I go limp and let her, while the rising sun drapes gold blankets over us, warming us through.
Chapter Seventeen
Scarlett
“I should get up. I’ve got a class at ten.” My words are reluctant. It’s warm in the room, and Orson is stroking my back, his fingers moving seductively up and down my spine. But I need to get back, shower, and prepare myself for the inevitable questions that are going to come my way.
“Yeah,” he says, although he doesn’t move.
I rest my chin on his chest and look up at him. His eyes are closed, his face relaxed. He has a touch of stubble this morning. Fascinated, I lift a hand and trace a finger along his jaw, feeling the scrape of the hairs beneath my fingernail. He opens one eye to look at me, and the corner of his mouth quirks up.
It was a fantastic meal and an amazing evening. And it was super to go to sleep with him and be woken up by the touch of his fingers and the feel of his mouth on me. Mmm.
But nothing lasts forever. Buddhists say that pain comes from trying to resist suffering, and suffering happens when we become attached to things that are fleeting. So if we can detach from our attachments and cravings, we are able to reduce our suffering.
This thing with Orson is fleeting. I know that. Even though I told himI’m not your girlfriend, and he repliedNot yet, I refuse to think of this as anything other than a bubble floating on the wind. I’m going to accept it for what it is, and go back to my life a better person for the experience.
I wonder whether he has time for breakfast, and I’m just about to ask when I hear a sound somewhere in the apartment.
I sit up, clutching the duvet to my breasts.
“What?” he asks.
“There’s someone outside.” For a moment I have the horrific thought that it’s an old girlfriend who’s let herself in. She’s going to come into the bedroom with an axe and chop me up into a black bin bag when she finds out he’s with me.
But he just yawns, stretches, and says, “It’s okay, it’s only Gina.”
“Gina?”
“My housekeeper.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You have a housekeeper?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not going to pick up my own socks.” He grins at the look on my face. “I’m joking.”
“I don’t think you are.”
He tips his head to the side. “Why are you shocked?”
“I don’t know. How many other people work for you?”