She stumbled after him, a haze settling over her. This felt right—too right—but the logical side of her still whispered to keep her distance. Like that was possible anymore. Omar pushed her by the hips into his bedroom, his eyes ablaze as he followed her like a predator.
“Lovely bedroom,” Marian said, barely glancing around. All she caught was dark gray bedcovers and starkly framed black-and-white photos.
“Mm-hmm.” Omar pinned her to the bed and she fell backwards, a giggle escaping her. He climbed on top of her, showering her face with a flurry of kisses. She clutched at his head, welcoming everything, desperate for this sensation to never end.
God, if only you lived in New York…
She pushed the thought away, along with a slew of other things that ensured this would never work out long-term. And why was she even thinking long-term anyway? Why couldn’t this just be a harmless Parsian fling?
Omar flipped her over onto her belly and tugged at her leggings, bringing them down to her knees. He took a bite of each ass cheek, his fingers slipping beneath the damp fabric of her panties.
“Ooooh.” Marian let out a low moan as his fingers went straight for the sweet spot. He knocked and prodded at her clit, prompting dizzying waves of satisfaction. Their one day apart had felt interminable; they had so much to catch up on now.
“I love these pants you wore,” he whispered hotly into her ear. The weight of him pressed against her was too delicious to bear. “They turned me on immediately.”
“Some people don’t consider them pants,” she breathed, rubbing her butt against the hard line of his cock. “They’re just leggings.”
“Well, whatever they are…I vote you wear them to the office every day.”
Something about his words sent happiness spiraling through her. Even the briefest hint at a future warmed her. Damn you, Omar! He leaned back for a moment to step out of his pants and briefs. Then he nuzzled her ass cheeks, tugging her panties down to join her leggings.
“I want every part of you,” he growled, nuzzling her legs apart. She gasped as his tongue traced the lips of her pussy, passing gently over her clit. He slurped and suckled from behind, an interesting angle that stoked her fire more intensely than normal. She moaned and writhed against the bed, knotting the covers in her hand.
Omar sighed softly, then nestled his cock in between her legs. She arched up to meet him and he pressed himself inside slowly, a low groan escaping him as he did. She moaned along with him, suddenly so grateful for his heat and the fullness that tears pricked at her eyes. Jesus, this man made her think crazy things. Nobody had ever felt so good with her, or inside her.
“Marian.” Omar grabbed an ass cheek in his hand so hard that it hurt. She bucked against him, and he started a slow rhythm, one that brought her to the precipice in record time. He snaked a hand underneath her shirt, seeking a breast, cupping it gently.
They moved together in jerky unison, desperate pants escaping them, the friction leading to a delicious climax.
“I’m close, Omar,” she whispered, pinching her eyes shut. She fisted the bedspread as she took another long, deep thrust from him, which made her breasts jiggle.
He pounded into her, gripping at her hips to hold her in place. He thrust again and again, until Marian’s pussy clenched and the freefall was impossible to ignore. Her orgasm spilled over and consumed her, but he didn’t relent, slamming into her with long, frenzied thrusts that pushed her to new heights each time. She let out a wail, something throaty and foreign, as the pleasure wracked her over and over.
Omar groaned a moment later and slowed his movements, stilling as he pulsed hot inside her. His chest heaved as he collapsed onto her. Her eyes drifted open and shut as the powerful climax receded into a pleasant buzz.
“Holy...hell.” Her voice came out weak and muffled.
“Mmmm.” His cock throbbed inside her. A moment later he slipped out and fell onto the bed next to her, cupping her face in his hand.
She snuggled up to his smooth chest. Three little words hung heavy on her tongue, but she wouldn’t say them. It didn’t seem right to say them. Not now, probably not ever. But they were there, despite all the logic and rationale in the world.
They smiled lazily at one another until sleep overcame her and she drifted off.
Hours later, Marian awoke with a start. Bladder aching, she fumbled around for a moment, trying to get her bearings. She was still at Omar’s, but where again? She squinted in the darkness, trying to make out anything familiar. A bedside clock glowed with an ungodly hour: 3:21 a.m. She swallowed a dry taste in her mouth and swung her legs over the bed. Omar must have tucked her in, since she was magically covered with sheets and a blanket. He must have taken her shirt off, too, because she was definitely nude.
She smiled as she stumbled out of the bedroom, unsure where the bathroom might be. There had to be one close to his room. She glanced both ways down the hall; to the left was the living room, and to the right were a slew of closed doors. It had to be one of those.
She grabbed at the handle of the first room, flipping on the light. A spare bedroom. She turned off the light and shut the door, trying the next one. A closet. She grunted, trying the next one in line. His office.
His scent hung in the air, drawing her inside. The light she flipped on glowed soft yellow, illuminating his bookcases and a wide, spacious desk. She blinked as she took it in. Just a quick glance, like being a tourist.
She walked along the bookcase, checking out the spines she could read in English. She grinned. Some detective novels, Plato, and plenty of cookbooks. A diverse selection. She dragged a finger over his desktop, needing just a few more glimpses before she left, despite her straining bladder. A notebook sat open on his desk, papers splayed out. She peered down at the writing, something elegant and feminine staring up at her.
My dearest Omar…it’s impossible to describe how much I’ve come to love you! It’s like years have passed instead of months. I know that once I pass on, I’ll continue loving you for eternity. Yours forever, Anahita
Marian blinked, rereading the short letter. There were stacks of them. Each one on a piece of stationery. She’d spent her days writing letters to Omar. She flipped through them—most were in Farsi, but a couple stood out in English. She read as much as she could until she heard something in the distance. And whatever it was, she wouldn’t risk being caught in his office. She hurried out of the room, clicking
the light off and the door shut.