I hoisted myself off the bed and began to gather my clothes. “Don’t bother. I’ll walk.”
“Cassie.” He reached to grab my arm. “Let me take you home. I’m being a fucking dick. I’m sorry. Really. We don’t have to—”
I jerked free of his grasp and began plucking my clothes from the floor and dressing with my back to him. I felt a strange power surge through me—a new sense of agency.
“You’re right, Jesse, we don’t have to fuck, because I decide whether we fuck or not. And I get to have the kind of sex I want. And what I don’t want is to just lie there and let someone fuck me the way I did with my ex-fucking-husband, waiting for it to be over!”
I was breathless. I turned to face Jesse and saw his expression registering shock but also awe.
“That’s what you feel this was?”
“No!” I screamed. They were different men, Scott and Jesse, but this feeling was familiar. “No, it’s not the same. But you are being a dick.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Jesse looked up at me. “This might be inappropriate,” he whispered, “but you are very sexy when you’re like this, Cassie.”
Jesse reached for me like I was a cornered animal that might bite. He tugged loose the T-shirt I was holding, dropping it to the floor. Then he pulled me by my jeans, securing his hands on the top button, popping each one open, a warm smile spreading across his mouth. His cock was so hard it was like it had heard nothing of what was just said.
“I think you need to make amends to me,” I whispered.
“How about I start by kissing your pussy. Would that make it better?”
“Maybe,” I said, my hands going to my breasts. This man! One minute I wanted to slap him hard, the next I wanted to fuck him harder.
“Tell me what you want me to do. Use your words, Cassie, the ones I taught you,” he said, placing my foot on the bed next to his thigh, splaying me before him. He wet his lips.
“I want you to lick me, Jesse,” I said, my fingers in his hair.
“You want me to suck your clit?”
His eyes were dancing with mischief. He liked me like this, bratty and transgressive.
“Tell me what else you want me to do, Cassie.”
“I want you to fuck me,” I said, climbing towards him. “I want your cock in my cunt.”
“Yesss, that’s it,” he said, collapsing back, taking me with him.
I remembered the way Angela had wielded her power over Mark that time in the Mansion, when I was behind mirrored glass watching them. I channeled her now, mimicking her movements, the fierce way she tore into him. I shoved Jesse down on the bed, ignoring his erection, to take my own pleasure from his mouth, his darting tongue finding my grooves, his smooth fingers exploring my body, every curve and crevice, his tongue lashing back and forth over my clit, my whole body now over him, writhing with desire. He knew me so well, knew how fast to go, how slow. He knew how close to bring me to orgasm before spinning me around and throwing me down on the bed so he could enter me quickly, his hips grinding me.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Cassie,” he murmured, his arms ropy and ridged, his stomach muscles tensing with every feverish thrust.
As he fucked me, arousal flooded my core, until I had no choice but to come, on command, on his command.
“That’s right, Cassie, I got you … come for me, baby, come now …”
He was scorching, his eyes burning into me. I flung my arms up in surrender. Eyes open, I came so hard, so searingly, I felt something akin to disbelief—disbelief that he could do this to me, to my body, that he could make me come like this, my spasms gripping his cock so hard he nearly emptied into me. At the last second he tugged out with a moan and spilled onto my heaving stomach, in hot, helpless spurts.
“Holy shit,” he said, collapsing atop me.
I held his sweaty head between my breasts. After a few seconds of gasping, still in a state of astonishment, Jesse fell off me, sliding comically to the floor in a weak pile, both of us laughing at the mess we had made of each other.
“Holy shit,” he said.
I was about to reply, I know, that was amazing, but he was already up and sprinting to the bathroom to shower.
“Sorry, Cass. I almost fucking forgot! I have a thing at nine.”