“Turn the upper part of your body sideways.”
When she does, I grab her other leg and lift it. I wrap my arm around her lower leg to hold it in place as I push the tip of my cock inside her. She gasps. I draw a deep breath and slowly push the rest of my cock in.
Once it’s halfway in, I stop. I brush Violet’s hair aside so I can see her face. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are pursed to hold back her moans. I stroke her cheek and she turns her head to look at me. Desire coats her eyes in place of tears, which frankly suits her better. Her lips part.
“Violet.” Her name leaves my lips in a whisper as I hold her gaze.
I run my thumb over her lips in a tender caress because I can’t kiss her in this position. Then I grip the back of the bench and start to move.
The bench creaks. Again, Violet closes her eyes and purses her lips. Her fingers tremble as they clutch her gown and gather it up to her chest.
I reach for one of her breasts as I continue with my thrusts. Her stiff nipple pokes my palm. In doing so, my angle must have shifted, because the muffled sounds she’s making change. They’re more intense now. She can barely keep them at bay.
I continue pounding into her from this new angle while keeping her breast in my hand. After a few more thrusts, she lifts her gown to her mouth to stifle her cries as she trembles. The passage around my cock tightens.
Fuck.
I let go of her breast to grip the back of the bench and put more power into my thrusts. I clench my jaw as I manage a few more. Then I give one final thrust.
I bury myself to the hilt inside Violet’s still trembling body. She lets out a loud gasp followed by an unrestrained cry. I grunt as the heat from my balls spills out of my cock into its rubber sheath.
Afterwards, we both fall silent. I take just a moment to catch my breath before pulling out and getting rid of the used condom in a trash can in the corner.
As I fix my trousers, Violet gets off the bench. She stands up and her gown rolls back into place, down to her ankles without a crease as if nothing happened. I can’t even tell she’s not wearing any panties. But she can.
“Where are my panties?” she asks.
I reluctantly take them out of my pocket and throw them at her. As she puts them on, I grab my coat and put it back on. She buttons it and straightens my tie. I try to fix her hair as best as I can.
“How do I look?” Violet asks.
“Great,” I answer.
It’s not a lie. Some strands of her hair may be out of place now, but she still looks hot. In fact, I daresay she looks even hotter.
She sighs. “I can’t believe we just had sex in a museum.”
“They’d probably be happy to have us as part of their exhibit. People could learn a lot of things from us, you know.”
Violet hits my shoulder playfully. “Shut up.”
I smile. Just as I hoped, she seems to be in a better mood. Then again, who wouldn’t be after the sex we just had?
“I still prefer having sex where there’s no danger of being caught,” she says. “Or interrupted.”
I take her hand. “Then it’s a good thing we have hotel rooms waiting.”
Violet grins. “It sure is.”Chapter TwentyViolet
I sure am such a fool.
Yes, Toronto was fun. After the party, Asher and I went back to the hotel and had sex pretty much all night. Then we had lunch at the CN Tower, climbed to the SkyPod to take in the views, and took the flight home in the company’s private jet. It was a short trip but memorable just the same.
But I’m not in Toronto anymore.
Now that I’m back in my apartment in Chicago, soaking in the tub as per my Sunday evening ritual and relaxing my tired muscles, my worries return. My mind is supposed to be taking a break before another workweek starts. Instead, my thoughts are bouncing around like the metallic ball in a pinball machine.
So what is going on with Asher and me again?
All he said was that he can’t get enough of me, that and that he’s sorry for being a man-whore. But he didn’t say anything about starting a relationship and doing his best to make it work. He didn’t say anything about loving me or wanting to stay by my side.
All he said was that he can’t get enough of me. Of all of me? Or just sex with me? Because that much is obvious. But what happens when he gets tired of me? When he gets bored? Everyone gets enough of something at some point. The only reason they keep going is because they decide they want more.