Mister Weston - Page 48

“If I agree to this,” he said, his jaw clenched. “There will be no late night emotional talks, no mention of the words ‘more’ ‘us’ or ‘relationship’, and I won’t be taking you out on any dates.”

“I didn’t ask you to take me out on any dates.”

“I don’t want to know a goddamn thing about your life outside of the bedroom.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I won’t be the guy you think you can call when you need to talk to someone.” He paused. “Unless it’s about how wet your pussy is, I don’t want your name on my call log, and I don’t need you thinking we’ll ever be friends.”

I started to fire back, but he kissed me roughly, preventing me from getting a single word out.

“You don’t get to ask me questions about anything more than if I can go harder, longer, and deeper, and I won’t ask you anything outside of ways I can better please your pussy.”

My nipples hardened against my bra and my panties were sticking to my skin. As if he could sense it, too, he slipped his hand beneath my dress and tugged at the silk, slipping his fingers beneath it.

“We’ll share our bodies, not our lives.” He lowered his voice as his thumb softly stroked my clit. “That’s all I can ever give to you. That’s all I ever will give to you.”

He slid his other hand down my waist and squeezed my ass. “Are there any other conditions on your end?”

“Yes...” I managed as he tore off my panties.

“What else could there possibly be?”

“Three things.” My gaze went to his hands as he unbuckled his pants and pulled down his zipper, but the start of my sentence hung suspended in the air as he pulled out his cock.

“You were saying?” He tilted my chin up so my eyes were on his.

“Being your only one,” I said. “You didn’t mention anything about the women in other cities. You need to promise that they won’t be in the picture.”

“It was already implied,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I agree to fuck you and only you for however long this—whatever the hell this is, lasts. Happy?”

“Very.”

“What’s the second thing?”

“I want you to—” I sucked in a breath as his hand slid up my back and unclasped my bra in one smooth motion. “I want you to promise not to burn me.”

“Burn me?” He repeated.

“Hurt me.” I nearly stuttered. “I need you to promise that you won’t hurt me, Jake.”

He was silent, looking somewhat confused, but then he circled his thumb around my nipple and spoke slowly. “Gillian, I’m not going to burn or hurt you, unless you ever want to try that type of foreplay.” He pushed my dress up my waist. “That said, since we’ve agreed to no emotional entanglements whatsoever, you would have to fall for me in order for me to hurt you.” He ran his hand up and down my sides. “I’ll be sure that you don’t, and I guarantee that I won’t. What’s the third thing?”

“The third thing is that we do need to talk.”

“I just said that we don’t need to talk. Ever.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious, just cordial and friendly. You have to give me that...”

“Why?”

“This is new for me, no strings-attached sex. I’ve never done this before.”

He looked completely taken aback, blinking a few times, but then he eventually nodded. “Okay, Gillian. I’ll try to give you that.”

“Thank you.”

“So, you agree to all of my terms?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” He pushed me back against the railing. “I agree to yours, too.”

Without another word, his mouth was on mine—hot and heavy, reminding me of all the times I’d fantasized about it at night. Except this was better. Much better.

His hard cock was pressed against my thigh and I rubbed my palm against it, murmuring as he bit down on my lip. He suddenly tore his mouth away from mine and pulled a condom out of his pocket and handed it to me.

I tried to tear the packet open with my fingertips, but he laughed softly and took it from me.

“No.” He held it in front of me. “With your mouth.”

I hesitated, staring at him unsurely, but then I bit the corner of the foil with my teeth and ripped it open. With my fingers, I pulled the wet rubber out of the packet and rolled it over his cock, my pussy throbbing with every hard inch it covered.

His mouth returned to mine, heated and demanding once again, and he wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me up onto the banister.

“Spread your legs.” He commanded.

I gripped the railing and obliged, feeling his hands cup my ass and pull me forward.

Without another word, he pushed his cock into me with one deep thrust—completely obliterating my walls and making me scream.

Tags: Whitney G. Romance
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