I extend my arm, reaching back and around his head, exposing my chest. His body tenses, followed by a few quick breaths, until he begins to thrust into me again.
“You’re insatiable,” I cry, moaning straight after. “I have to go…I’ll be late for work.”
“You’ll go, when I’m finished.” Refusing to listen, he seizes my breast with his hand, tugging on my nipple with such force. “And… I’m not finished.”
“Wesley,” I moan, consciously looking at the time and knowing I only had two hours till I had to meet Emerson at the studio. Also, factoring in that I had to rush home, shower and change.
He made it impossible for me to think about anything else but him, touching every part of me that ached from last night. I knew he was close—hell, I was close, and just when I think he will come inside me and the panic of him not wearing a rubber is a cold harsh reality, he pulls himself out and kneels beside me.
In the daylight, I see all of him. Extremely fit torso with tattoos inked across his breastbone. I wanted to ask him about them; discover the meaning behind the design. But now wasn’t the moment, not when the obvious is pointing right at me.
His cock is perfect.
I didn’t know if there was such a thing as a perfect cock but if there was—I was staring right at it. Obviously hard, perfect color, perfect shape, and—perfect size.
My God Milana, stop obsessing…this is so not you.
With a handful of my long hair, he guides himself into my mouth, moaning each time the tip of his cock passes my lips. He tasted so good; covered in my juices which only aroused me more. His bites hard on his bottom lip before belting out a loud groan as the warm liquid shoots into the back of my throat.
Crap, I had never swallowed before. I had no idea what to do.
Hurry… think!
He hands me a tissue with a satisfied grin on his face. I take it, mid-swallow.
Shit…too late. I had just popped my cum-swallowing cherry and by accident too.
“I really have to go.”
Wesley moves towards my legs, positioning himself in between them.
“I’m not finished.”
“But you came. In my mouth…” I softy laugh. “I really need to go.”
He pushes my thighs apart, causing me to yelp, running his tongue around my clit. “I said, I am not finished.”
My head falls back into the pillow, defeated, with a smile.
When it came to Wesley Rich—it was impossible to say no.
My fingers cramp as I struggle to capture all the key points that Emerson is telling us. “There’s Kimmel tomorrow night, thankfully, local.” She signs a document, handing it over to me. “Interviews lined up with some magazines in New York which means I need a few outfits for
the city since I heard a cold snap is about to hit the east coast.”
Aurora—Emerson’s stylist—points to her iPad with an enthusiastic smile; her red-framed glasses matching her shade of lipstick. Unlike Sonia, Aurora was great to work with. She had this sense of style, lived and breathed fashion, and was half-Korean like me.
“Burgundy is sooo in right now. I’d love to see you in a burgundy cashmere coat coupled with some black patent boots,” she sings with excitement, hugging her iPad.
“I’ll leave it with you.” Emerson laughs. “Then the week after next—we have Vancouver. Are you alright to join me on that trip along with New York?”
“Of course,” I tell her, guilty that I was lying to her about Wesley.
I knew there would be a time and place to admit the truth and now was not that time.
Although Wesley and I had agreed to be in a relationship, we had barely spoken about anything aside from our exchange of words during sex. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that what I read online piqued my curiosity or that woman from last night. After meeting his mother, Gina, I didn’t quite understand the dynamic of their relationship. Again, questions that lingered and needed some sort of answer.
And then there was the possibility that our relationship would leak out to the public. So far, paparazzi haven’t followed me anywhere. Wesley warned me how cunning they can be and to always be on guard. Many of the things that came attached to the name Wesley Rich.