Slowly but surely, the pelting of the water against my flesh builds me toward my climax. He kneads my breast, tugging on the nipple, for a few minutes more before dropping his hand to my mound. His fingers part the labia, allowing the water to hit me more fully. I groan more as he moves the showerhead even closer to me. With a soft cry, I erupt.
I make a mental note to get the brand name of this particular showerhead. It's a lot more effective than the one in my apartm
ent. Or maybe it has nothing to do with the showerhead and everything to do with who's holding it.
"Okay, okay," I squeak when I can't take any more of the stimulation of the water against my overly sensitized parts.
He holds the showerhead in place a few more seconds before returning it to its mount. He stares at me as I let out a long sigh and gaze up at him through glazed eyes. Still pulsing madly between my thighs, I notice his cock is half erect.
"Your turn," I say, grabbing the soap.
He lets me wash him, and my hands happily traverse every inch of him, except for his cock, which is now fully erect. I drop to my knees and marvel at how flesh so soft can harden into something as if it’s a limb with bones. Gingerly, I wrap my hand around him. His cock pulses upward with my touch.
Sticking out my tongue, I like his tip. He grunts when my tongue slides under his crown. Hungry for him, I take more of him into my mouth. I relish his moan. Feeling empowered, I begin to suck. Steam curls around us, and little rivers of water run down his body. I take another inch and feel his hand at the back of my head. I draw my mouth up his length, then back down. I do this several more times and hear the rumble of appreciation in his throat.
I try to take him in deeper, which he encourages by pressing the back of my head. I try not to gag when he pushes me too far, but it's hard not to. It's been a while since I've given a blow job. He lets me come off him to gather myself, but I don't want to come across totally incompetent and get back on his cock quickly.
"Suck it harder," he commands.
I do as he bids till he's murmuring in a foreign language again. He pushes me deeper down his cock. I start to choke when his tip hits the back of my throat, but this time he doesn't let me come all the way off. My mouth gets to the flare of his crown before I am pushed back down. His black pubic hairs tickle my nose. I go back up his shaft for some relief and brace my hands against his hips. But he's stronger and shoves me back down. This time the water running down his body splashes over my face. For a second, I can't breathe until he lets me back up his cock. My reprieve is short-lived. Once again he shoves me into his crotch. Water pours over me.
When I sputter and choke, he lets me come off. I wipe my eyes and gather myself as quickly as possible. Without a second to waste, his cock is back inside me. I find my timing, taking my breath when I go up his shaft and holding my breath when I am smooshed into the water cascading over his groin. He hits my gag reflex several times, but he's past the point of slowing down. Gripping my hair, he pulls and pushes my head up and down his cock.
His hips get into the action so that it's a full-on fucking of my mouth and throat. I lose my timing and wonder if it's possible to drown while giving a blowjob. With a loud grunt, he bucks faster, and I taste salty heat on my tongue. Unprepared, I choke in earnest. He releases me, and a spurt of cum lands on my cheek as he pulls his cock out. He wraps a hand around himself and pumps the rest of his cum.
He bends down and lifts up my chin, gazing into my face as if to check that I'm okay. I give him a small grin.
"I hope that was better than a smoke,” I tease.
"That was much better than a smoke,” he acknowledges.
And the glimmer in his eyes tells me I have a chance at not getting sent home.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As Tony and I step out of the shower and dress, I brace myself for the forthcoming argument. I decide to blow-dry my hair to give myself more time to think. He has no reason to keep me except for sex, and though I have a feeling that mine wasn’t the best blowjob he’s ever had, it was good enough. And he wants me. How much, I can’t say for sure. But I glimpse the desire he tries to hide beneath half-lidded gazes. And I think a part of me had sensed it before or I wouldn’t have been so bold with him. Knowing that he wants me even a little is as thrilling as everything else. I want this to last as long as it can because I know in a few days’ time, he’ll be gone. Back to China or Paris or Vietnam. And I’ll probably never see him again unless I keep working at The Montclair. Even then, I can see us crossing paths with only the faintest acknowledgment of each other because he’ll have some supermodel on his arm the next time.
But for the time being, I want to make him mine.
When I step out into the living room, I see him looking over my leftovers, now cold and not quite as appetizing. His hair is still damp, making him look even sexier.
“You want to go get something to eat?” I ask. “There’s a great pho place near Chinatown. If you like pho. I don’t mean to assume you do just because you’re from Vietnam.”
And maybe pho isn’t fancy enough for billionaires.
“Pho sounds good,” he replies.
I’m ecstatic as this means my getting taken home has been delayed. I suggest we walk because trying to find parking will be a pain in the butt.
“My driver’s in the city,” he offers.
“I don’t mind walking,” I say. “But if you prefer to drive or be driven...”
He grabs his jacket. “We’ll walk.”
“Do you usually get driven places?” I ask.
“No. My brother does just because he can get more work done that way, but I’m not that involved in the business. I don’t have to make every minute count.”