Our bodies tangled in a mess of limbs, tongues, and grappling hands—both of us searching for the one spot that would make the other cry out for more. So far, he was winning. I lay pinned beneath the weight of Joel, and there was nowhere I would have rather been. I thrust my hips forward, our pelvises colliding in a brutal mashing of skin. There were a few places that were sure to bear his mark the next day, but every touch at that moment was just what I needed to make my blood thunder in my veins and my pulse stampede.
“Your pussy begs even prettier than you do.”
“Joel.” I panted his name through the force of his hips thrusting between my legs. He speared into me, pulling out and dragging up to my clit where his piercing stimulated before sinking back into my depths. Like a clam reclaiming its pearl, I clutched at him tighter as if the more I bared down against him the harder it would be for him to escape. It didn’t stop him though; it only increased the sensation of him pulling back out. He leaned back, looking down the scope of my body, to his target, where he pulled out. He slammed back into my depths so suddenly that my breath lodged in my throat, startling me with the intensity and depth of him.
“That’s it. Fuck this dick, pretty bird. Shit, just watching you makes me want to come. Your lips, these tits, your legs.” His hands skated down my body touching everywhere with adoration and devotion. The way he looked at my body like I was a goddess, a deity worthy of devotion, made me feel something more than the barreling weight of my orgasm looming in my core. No, this was something more dangerous than a little death. It didn’t belong there, not with that man, not in that room. There was no space for him to weasel his way in, but that was what he was doing; chipping at my encased heart like an archaeologist excavating the fragile pieces.
I shook my head, trying to separate the emotion from the act.
One-night stand.
That’s all he is, but he fucks like an animal.
Insatiable.
That’s the word.
“Harder, Joel. Fuck me harder.”
“Pretty bird wants it harder?”
His cock dislodged from me with a plop, yet we were still connected by the thin sheen stretched between us—his pre-come and my juices. Those were the little details skipped over in porn. Things I didn’t realize I’d been missing on days where I’d been especially needy with nothing more than a disc full of writhing bodies and a vibrator tucked between my legs to get me off. I didn’t have long to bask in our union before Joel flipped me over, sinking my chest into sweat-soaked sheets.
“Ass up, sexy. I want to see this pretty cunt when I sink into you balls-deep.”
I groaned at the visual he presented. He tugged on my hip as I shimmied my knees closer to my chest and raised my ass so our bodies were aligned. The heat rising from his body was so hot, I thought if I looked hard enough I would be able to see steam rise from between his legs like thick clouds drifting up from manholes on the street.
The sound of his skin slapping against mine pierced the air as he slammed into me with the force of a runaway train barreling down the tracks. His hips crashed into me in a continuous rhythm my body moved along with. It was as if a song filled his head and his cock was the speaker, transmitting the song to my body—a song that had my body working like a machine. Every rise and fall, every breath, every clench of my fists and caress of his hand—it was all a crescendo, layers and layers of feeling, both physical and emotional, compounded until it reached the pinnacle, the peak, the climax.
We fell together.
“Blaire,” Joel groaned out my name, stilling my bucking hips with an iron grip as my orgasm rocked through my body. I felt primal, raw, a savage animal what with the sounds that escaped my throat. My spine rippled at the same time Joel’s hands loosened, and we both collapsed to the mattress like a house of cards blown over with the slightest uptake in wind.
Chapter Seven
I should have been second-guessing everything that had happened leading up to the point where I found myself back in his arms, but I just couldn’t. I clung to his warmth like the dying days of summer, relishing the weight of his body pressed against mine. So much for the rules, I thought with a chuckle.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were intentionally trying to bruise my ego. What’s so funny this time?”
Joel rolled away from my back, his arm wrapping around my stomach to pull me with him. He pulled until we were both lying on our sides, face to face. The presence of his hand caressing my side was an unexpected yet welcome comfort.
“I don’t know. This. You. Me. Our circumstances.” I waved my hand around the room, pointing at nothing in particular, especially considering the fact that we couldn’t see in the darkness of the room.
“You’re telling me this isn’t how you’d ordinarily spend a Monday morning?”
I scoffed as I dredged up thoughts of the last six months. It didn’t really matter the day; every one of them was the same—working my way toward that Junior Partner position at Henderson & Fitz. In a city where the majority of people found lawyers from billboards or cheesy TV commercials, vowing to get them out of their DUIs or reimburse them for some vehicular accident, Henderson & Fitz was one of most respectable firms that didn’t have to resort to those embarrassing ads. I felt proud when I told people where I worked; it was only my position that left me wanting. Being the youngest and least experienced person at my firm didn’t give me any advantages over the many other lawyers in town that were all vying for the same position I was. That was why I worked diligently, from sun up to sun down on most days, just to show my dedication to not only the job but also the company.
“Sadly enough, I’d probably be working or thinking about work. I’d have the TV on though to make myself feel normal.”
His hand lifted to my face, trailing across my cheekbone before denting my bottom lip around the tip of his finger.
“What do you do?”
“I’m an associate at Henderson & Fitz.”
“Oh, so you’re a big-shot lawyer. I’m impressed. Although, I’ve got to say, you seem too sweet to be a lawyer.”
“Maybe I’ve only shown you my good side.”
He grabbed my chin angling my face, swiveling my head left and right, up and down, inspecting every pore before he let his hand fall from my face, relocating to my hip once more.
“Nope, you look sweet from every angle. So, I take it club-hopping isn’t your thing.”
“Definitely not. I was there for moral support.”
“Your foray out into the world wasn’t all bad. After all, look what you brought home.” His hand brushed down his body, modeling off the specimen of a man that lay next to me, looking like a nude model ready to be drawn. His skin was soft, and I could see the smattering of hair leading from his chest down the center of his abs to the wisps of hair landscaped to accentuate his cock. I couldn’t help but take in the sight of his glorious body. Joel was that decadent piece of chocolate that you continuously passed up because you felt he was only to be brought out for special occasions, but the truth was you never wanted decadent because how could you go back to Hershey’s once you’ve had the world’s finest chocolate?