The Wrong Gentleman

“So polite with your ‘please’,” she said, doing as I asked.

“I’m British. We’re polite. But don’t let that fool you.” I reached between her legs, plunging my fingers into her, coating my hand and then smoothing her wetness over my cock. “It doesn’t mean I’m well behaved.”

I took a step to the other end of the bed so my crotch was opposite her face. “Taste yourself on me,” I said.

She moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No. From exactly where you are. Don’t move.”

She placed her hands back on the mattress and shifted slightly.

My insides tightened as she opened her mouth and tried to capture the tip of me.

“Just a taste,” I warned.

As much as I liked to think otherwise, I knew I couldn’t handle this woman’s mouth around me for too long. Not when she encouraged so many thoughts and questions in me.

Slowly, she took me in her mouth, my crown hitting the back of her throat. I let out a deep exhale and stepped back, needing that perfect bliss to be over. I spotted my wallet and pulled out a condom. It was time for the main act to start. The urge to fuck was heavy in my veins.

I rolled on the latex, watching her, watching me.

“I hope it feels as good as it looks,” she said.

I chuckled. There was the funny, demanding woman from back in the bar. “It will, don’t you worry about that.” I’d never had any complaints, and Skylar wasn’t going to be the first.

I gripped my cock at its base and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” I asked, pushing the hard tip up to her clit and then pausing at her entrance.

“Landon,” she moaned as I thrust into her.

She was tight and needy and the way she arched her back, curled her toes, combined with the look of shock on her face made me believe I wasn’t typical for her in any way. In so many ways she was exactly my type—blonde, beautiful, and up for some fun—but below the surface, like white noise, there was something telling me this girl was not like the others.

“Relax,” I whispered, smoothing my palm up her back, then gripping her shoulder as I pistoned my hips. The relief at being inside her relaxed my muscles and I did what came naturally to me—I fucked her like it was my job, through her second orgasm, not breaking rhythm as her climax clenched my dick like a vice. This was what I knew. Skylar might have knocked me a little off balance, but fucking was my comfort zone. Sweat gathered at my hairline, down my back, at the tips of my fingers, but I couldn’t stop.

She collapsed, and reluctantly I stopped what I was doing, turned her to her back and pulled her legs either side of me. She squeezed my hips with her thighs, which interrupted the steady beat of the pulse in my neck. She smiled up at me, her body boneless and weak, and for a split second I questioned myself—and I wanted to question her. Was I giving her what she needed? I was a reader of people, but Skylar? I couldn’t figure her out.

“Okay?” I asked. Because I wanted it to be okay. I mean I knew it was good but I needed to hear it from her.

I leaned over her, and she slid her palm against my cheek. “More than okay.”

I released a breath, dropped a kiss on her lips and twisted my hips as I drove into her, her back arching in response. Her breasts swayed, and I tried to block out all the questions I had for her that were circulating in my brain and focus on the physical. I wanted to come, wanted her to come again. But I wanted more than that. I wanted to know every part of her. Who was she?

“Landon.” She clawed at my chest, her mouth dropping into a perfect “O” then her tongue darting out as if begging for more. That tongue. That mouth. Her beautiful eyes.

“Fuck,” I spat out as she tightened her muscles. I snapped my head up and found her lip caught between her teeth. Was I fucking her, or was she fucking me?

I wasn’t going to last much longer.

But neither was she. The slight tremor of her legs, her hands curled into balls at my chest—she was close. My orgasm growled at the base of my spine like an engine being switched on. There was no stopping it now. My jaw tightened, and I knew if I closed my eyes the imprint Skylar had made on my brain would only get brighter in my imagination. She was tough, skeptical and suspicious on the outside and like warm honey and spun sugar on the inside. I wasn’t sure which was the biggest turn-on.

“I’m close,” I warned her and, as if my confession triggered something in her, she dissolved beneath me, her fists relaxing and her palms finding my back, pulling me closer as if urging my climax on.

I let myself go, my orgasm flooding every sense. Usually my orgasms were all about me and what I felt—the chemicals rushing through my veins. But in that moment, all I could see, taste, feel, hear, smell was Skylar. She was the only thing I could think about.

I groaned, my mouth on her shoulder as my body folded against hers, wordless while our breathing evened out.

Holy shit. What had just happened?