“Well,” he says. His eyes pin me to the spot when I glance over my shoulder. “This isdifferent.”
“Whatis?”
“A woman in my apartment.” He steps around me, opens the sliding door, and emerges onto the balcony with asmirk.
Surely he brings women into his apartment, but I won’t lie, the thought that I’m different does something to me. Through the window, I watch him unfasten the first few buttons of his shirt with a deft flick of hiswrist.
“Are you going to stand there all night?” heasks.
I steel myself before moving outside. A light breeze puffs around the building, catching my skirt around my thighs. The music drifts down from the rooftop, mixing with the chug of the boats on the river. I walk past him and drape my arms over the railing, staring at the twinkling city in thedistance.
“What did you expect to happen when I brought you up here, Demi?” He steps toward me. “You said you wouldn’t fuck me…” Another step. “But I don’t believe you meantthat.”
I spin around to face him, immediately wishing I hadn’t, because now I’m trapped between his warm body and therailing.
“Believe what you want,” I say, trying to pull my stare away from his fulllips.
“Why else would you come up here? You know I want nothing more than to fuck you.” His question hangs heavily in the air like cigar smoke, cherry-laced andsmug.
My jaw tenses, but before I can say anything, he seizes my waist and yanks me against him in a brutal kiss. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling and tugging as I melt intohim.
“Then again,” he says, nipping at my lip. “I want to do so many things to you.” His hands roam my body like an act of worship, and with each passing second, he winds me up bit by bit. Reducing me to nothing more than primal lust andneed.
Soon, the only thoughts dancing through my mind are ones of his naked body hovering over mine, his hips driving into me, my nails digging into his broad back. I want to know what his face looks like between my thighs, what he sounds like when hecomes.
His hands slip under my dress, and he palms my ass, jerking my hips against his erection. My body responds with a flood of heat. I’m almost ashamed at how damp I am forhim.
His fingers sweep my throat. “The other night when you touched yourself, how did it feel?” He leans in, biting at my neck. “Tellme.”
“Good.”
He laughs against my skin. “That’s not enough.” He grabs one of my hands and moves it between us, forcing me to palm myself. “Tell me, Demi. Are youwet?”
I swallow when he guides one of my fingers under the material of my thong and rubs it over my slit. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” The steady tone to his praise sends a chill down my spine. “Did you use one finger?” He squeezes my digits together, then pushes them inside me. “Or two?” His thumb circles my clit as he moves my fingers in and out. “Howmany?”
Despite how wrong this feels, I moan. “Two.”
He bites at my throat, still guiding me as I masturbate forhim.
After a few seconds, his hand drops from mine, and he unfastens his slacks. They pool around his ankles. He’s sans underwear, and his hard dick bobs when it’s freed from the constraint of his pants. “Keep fucking yourself for me,” he says, and my musclestense.
I’m overwhelmed with arousal, shocked that I’m fingering myself. Even more surprised at how much wetter I become when he grips his cock, working his hand over his shaft. The silver barbell glints under the patio light. My fingers twitch to touch him while my pulseratchets.
“When you touched yourself,” he says. “Did you think ofme?”
“Yes,” I confess, burying my fingers deeperinside.
His pace quickens again. “Do you think about us inbed?”
Inod.
“Am I making love to you, slow and steady? Are you on top of me? Or do I have you pinned down by the throat, fuckingyou?”
I play into this because it feels taboo and exotic. “You’re behind me with my hair wrapped around your wrist. You take me like asavage.”
A wide grin spreads across his face. The muscles in his forearm pop as he strokeshimself.
