“I didn’t think of him,” she confessed in one heated gasp. “I couldn’t. When you’re inside me, there’s nothing else.”
“Good girl.” He seized her wrists again to brace both him and her. The glass rattled under her body as he took her. “You think that was controlling?” he asked between thrusts. “You don’t know the half of it. I want to lock you up in this room, feed you and fuck you on my schedule. Then you’d really be mine.” He wrapped his hand around her throat to keep her from looking anywhere but outside. “Give them a show, ma chatte. Don’t be shy.” He released her face to massage her clit.
She pressed her cheek against the window, fogging the glass. “Right there,” she said. Her fingers curled into fists. “I’m going to come.”
He pulled out and stepped back. “Not yet.”
“Please.” She dropped to her knees and put her hand between her legs.
“Don’t,” he said, looming over her. “Do not make yourself come.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I’m trying to stop it.”
“Stop it?” He looked incredulous.
“I want you to do it.”
“Ah.” He smiled and backed away. “You’re good. Very good.” He took a strawberry from the cart. “Will you come to me?”
She crawled along the floor, hobbling because of the persistent ache between her legs. She let him feed her the strawberry. He bent over and sucked the sweetness from
her lips.
“Now lie on your back and bend your knees,” he whispered into her mouth.
It was a command that she obeyed without hesitation.
“Wider,” he said.
She bared herself to him.
“Reach up…”
She felt behind her head and grabbed the bedpost with both hands.
“That’s it,” he said. “Hold on to that.”
“You treat me like a dog,” she said, but even she heard her own panting.
“And your obedience deserves a reward. Don’t you want to know what it is?”
She salivated. There was nothing in her world except him, large and naked, hovering over her. “Yes, Beau.”
He squatted and trailed a finger down her stomach and over her pubic bone. His knuckles brushed the inside of her thigh as he traced the outline of her. “You’re trembling,” he said. “Ask for what you want.”
“Touch me,” she said softly.
“I already am.”
“Lower.”
He put his hand on her knee. “Here?”
“Higher.”
He slid his hand to the crease of her ass. “You mean here.”
“No,” she whispered. “Higher.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“My pussy,” she said.
He smiled. “I would love to touch your pussy.”
Lola’s chest rose with exaggerated breaths.
“What should I touch it with?” he asked.
Her eyelids fluttered. “What do you mean?”
He wet his finger and circled it around her opening while she strained to see. “This?” He waited until she looked up at him again. “Or something else?”
“That,” she said. “Your mouth.”
He ran his hands up her thighs to hold her knees, pushing them apart as wide as they’d go. He returned his hands between her legs, parting her lips with this thumbs. Her back arched, sending her breasts toward the ceiling.
“Perfect,” he said. “Just stay that way.”
He got on the floor with her. His arms curled around her hips to secure her to his face right as he sucked her into his mouth, thrusting his tongue inside her. Her spine felt as if it would snap in half if she bowed it any more.
“Now I know,” he said. “This is what I’ve been hungry for all along.”
She reached down to touch his hair, but he caught her wrist and pushed it back toward her. “Use your words, ma chatte. It makes me hard just hearing your voice.”
She gripped the bedpost again. “That,” she said when the tip of his tongue massaged her clit. “Keep doing that.”
He kept doing that, and when she was close, he moaned with his mouth buried in her. It felt like a crack in his shell, that sound, as it sent vibrations up her body.
“You’re right,” he spoke without moving away, “mouth is so much better.”
She came. His voice was always deep and solid, and it made the words themselves unexpectedly sensual. They had ways of destroying her control. He continued kissing between her legs until she’d finished.
“How’s that?” he asked, his lips running a gentle course along the inside of her thigh.
“Do you have to ask? I’m consumed.”
“So am I.” He took her waist in his wandering hands and squeezed her. “I could enjoy you for hours. Days. I think maybe we should get some rest, though.”
She released the post and got up on her elbows. “Rest?”
“We have a couple hours or so left. Don’t worry, I won’t oversleep.”
“It’s not that,” she said. As fast as he’d taken her against the window, he hadn’t finished. “Don’t you…?”
“Don’t I what?”
She looked away. What did she care if he was satisfied? It wasn’t a requirement of their deal. “Nothing,” she said. “Sleep is fine.”
“Good.” He got to his feet and helped her up. He piled all the dishes from their breakfast onto the food cart and tossed oversized pillows aside. They hadn’t even gotten to the sheets yet.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” she asked tentatively. For a savvy businessman, he hadn’t used his hours very wisely. It was hard to believe after all the stress she’d endured making the decision that the night was almost over.
“The only thing I want more,” he said, getting into the bed without looking at her, “is to smash the alarm clock with my fist. But I can’t. Just let me have this.”