Mister Weston

Biting my neck, he whispered harshly into my ear. “If you scream like that again, someone is going to find us. “His fingers dug into my skin, a slight punishment. “And I’m not stopping, Gillian. Audience or not.”

I bit my tongue, never getting a chance to answer as he pounded into me again and again. As he fucked me relentlessly and recklessly, making my knuckles whiten against the railing, I succumbed to his control.

I met him thrust for thrust—my nipples aching under his rough touch, my pussy dripping wet against his cock. Each time a moan escaped my mouth, he slapped my ass and punished my skin with a harder bite.

Several flights above us, the sound of hotel guests entering and exiting through heavy doors could be heard, but eventually it dissolved into the background. All I could hear now was our heavy breathing and the sound of our skin slapping against each other.

“Oh...Oh goddd...” I struggled to hold back as I felt his cock throbbing inside of me, as he fucked me deeper.

He slapped my ass—hard, and tightened his grip on me.

I bit his shoulder, trying to prevent myself from screaming, but it was no use. I cried out as my body shook and convulsed against his strong hold, and I shut my eyes as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through my body.

“Fuck, Gillian...” He pounded into me a few more times, finding his own release, and as he came, he held me still against his cock.

Slick with sweat and panting heavily, the two of us looked at each other, remaining entwined.

This is definitely going to be a problem...

After several minutes, he slowly pulled out of me and helped me off the banister, setting me on the floor. Then he turned away and began fixing his clothes, softly telling me to do the same.

I was snapping the second hook of my bra when a male voice from high above us called out.

“Hello? My son heard a scream!” He shouted. “Is everything okay down there? Hello?”

Jake gave me a pointed look.

“Everything is fine.” I called out. “I came to check, too! Nothing is here!”

“Alright then. Thanks!”

I finished smoothing my dress, not bothering to fix my sweat-drenched hair.

“I need your phone number,” Jake said, taking out his cell phone. “And your email address, if you actually use it.”

“I thought you said there wouldn’t be any late night phone calls.”

“There won’t be. This is so you can tell me your lines whenever you get them. I don’t think it’s fair for us to wait until we’re both in New York to have sex, so we’ll need to meet in layover cities whenever our schedules intersect. We’ll find places to meet up from there.”

I quickly recited my phone number and he saved it. Then he took my phone from my blazer pocket and typed his number in.

“This arrangement ends the moment either of us wants it to, correct?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“For any reason?”

“Any reasonable reason.” He stepped back and grabbed the door handle. “And just so we’re perfectly clear, Gillian...” The way he said my name made me wet all over again. “When I commit to something, even something as ridiculously preposterous as this, I expect the other person to do the same.”

“I said I would. Or did you somehow miss the part where I agreed?”

“No” he said. “You agreed to the terms, but I’m going to re-iterate them in more serious and final words for you. Until this ends, my cock is the only cock you’re allowed to have, your mouth belongs to me, and if you’re ever wet and in need of pleasure, you’ll wait until I’m available to give it to you.”

GATE B12

JAKE

London (HTW)—> Charlotte (CLT)—> Phoenix (PHX)

THIS IS DEFINITELY going to be a problem...

“Keep your hands on the bed.” I pulled Gillian’s hair back hours after we’d fucked in the stairwell. “Keep your ass up like that for me.”

I tried to hold her taut as I slid inside of her, but she didn’t listen. She released her hands from the mattress—slipping off my cock and falling forward, screaming and shaking as an orgasm ripped through her small frame.

Grunting as I came right after her, I gripped her hips to prevent her from falling to the floor. When I was sure she wasn’t going to roll off the bed, I flipped her over and let her back hit the sheets—watching her as she continued trying to catch her breath.

I took off the fourth condom of the night and tossed it into the trash, hoping like hell that this back to back sex was simply a symptom of withdrawal. That the only reason I’d sent her a “What’s your room number?” text hours ago was because I was trying to make up for four weeks of sexless nights.

As she continued to lay on the bed bare-ass naked with her eyes shut, I stared at her and trailed my fingers against her plump lips.