His weight crushes me against the bed, but I can’t move anyway. My entire body is wrung out with pleasure, limbs aching, and my pussy so sore that when he pulls out, I go rigid with the pain. Even when I’m empty, I can still feel him inside me. I hear him deal with the condom, wrapping it in a tissue, and then he slowly loosens my wrists and rolls me over.
Sweat cools against my hairline and at the back of my thighs where his skin had pressed so tightly against mine. He’s sweat-slicked too but still looks magnificent, as though someone has oiled him for an expensive perfume advertisement. He strokes over my forehead and cheek with such gentleness I have trouble reconciling these actions with the man who has just been inside me. His eyes seem to soften too as he sweeps my hair back and then rests his palm over one of my tits possessively.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and I nod and smile fleetingly. “Did I succeed?” I must look puzzled because he smiles. “Did I succeed in giving you something to remember?” I nod again, still breathing deeply from exertion and pleasure. “I seem to have fucked the words right out of your mouth, Nicole.” He grins, and I roll back to look at the ceiling. I need time away from his penetrating gaze that seems to see too much, at least more than I want to share.
“I needed that,” I say, wanting to take back my motivation for fucking him. He has been so in control and seemed to get off on the extra level of coercion. That was fine in the moment, but not now. Now it’s important to me that he knows I had wanted it all; every last thing he has given me.
“Then I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time to deliver.” He leans in, and I let him kiss me deeply. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Nicole? A good girl who likes being bad.”
I smile again but don’t directly agree. Life isn’t so black and white, and the things that lead us to act in certain ways are not easily explained. He can think what he wants now, good girl or bad. He’s a stranger to me, after all. One I won’t be seeing again when he leaves the cocoon of my hotel room.
He licks down between my breasts, pushing my legs apart again so he can take one last taste of my pussy. His tongue is like sandpaper against my over-sensitized flesh, and I flinch. “Stay like this,” he says, positioning my legs, so they’re spread wide. “I want to look at your pussy while I get dressed.”
As he pulls on his clothes, he keeps his eyes between my legs, and I can’t control the way my pussy moves, clenching for his cock. My body wants to fuck him again, but in reality, I’m way too sore. Anyway, he’s fully dressed before I could stupidly suggest it, and it seems he’s going to leave me wanting.
As he’s about to depart, he runs his hands between my thighs and presses a finger just inside me again. I’m so swollen that it feels as big as a cock. “I won’t forget this,” he says, and I sigh. He pulls his finger out and puts it to his mouth, tasting my arousal before walking to the door.
“I think you probably will,” I say quietly. “But I won’t. I’ll never tell a soul about what we did, but you’ll be my dirty little secret.”
He turns, and his eyes seem so fierce that I feel as though they might have the power to devour me or turn me into dust. I think he might come closer again or try to have the last word – he seems to like to have the upper hand – but he doesn’t.
And he doesn’t say goodbye.
When he closes the door quietly behind him, I get up, take another miniature bottle of whiskey from the minifridge and spend a while savoring the flavor, thinking how I will always recall the taste of him whenever I drink it. I go to sleep naked, relishing the slip of the sheets over the sharp points of my sore nipples as I remember the feel of his tongue, his mouth, and his cock.
And I take back a piece of me that Jonathan stole.7
NICOLEThe next morning, I wake feeling bruised around my hips and in my shoulder joints; delicious reminders of what happened with my stranger. I lie for a while in my tangled sheets, remembering his face. Those eyes that could be soft, intense, focused, and domineering, all within a minute, his hands that were huge and strong but soft against my skin and fingers that created nerve-tingling sensations wherever they caressed.