Faking It For Mr Right

She doesn’t need long to get there. Her orgasms from earlier have left her clit already swollen and sensitive, and at this angle, with my cock driving down into her, she reaches the peak quickly all over again. “Fuck, I’m almost there, I’m going to come…” Her voice fades, grows less coherent as she nears her peak.

“Come,” I order her. “Now.”

She obeys with a loud cry, not even screaming my name this time, because she’s beyond being able to form words. Her voice echoes throughout the penthouse, loud enough to make me glad I installed the soundproof windows back when I was renovating the place.

The sight of her twisting beneath me, her whole body flushed with pleasure and her eyes half-shut from the force of her orgasm, is nearly enough to send me over the edge myself. I grip her hips harder, drive into her again and again, until I can’t resist any longer.

When I come, it’s with a guttural growl. My cum shoots deep inside her, coating her inner walls, and she groans from the hot wet rush of it. I shift her legs from over my shoulders back to lie along the couch, and then I lie along her length, my cock still buried inside her as it starts to soften a little.

I scoop her into my arms and hold her beneath me, our bodies slick with sweat as I kiss her neck, her jawline, the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” I whisper against her hair, and she smiles, turning toward me, her lips finding mine.

Then she laughs softly, our lips still pressed together. I draw back just far enough to peer down at her, to watch her eyes dance with amusement.

“What is it?” I ask, arching an eyebrow, unable to keep a small smile from touching my lips.

“I’m just remembering our first night together. From a cornfield all the way to here.” She gestures past me at the apartment, at the stunning view out over Central Park through the floor to ceiling windows. I can’t help it. I start to grin, too.

“Both locations have excellent views,” I point out.

She snorts. “One of these things is not like the other.”

“Maybe not.” I catch her hands and hold them tightly between us, pressed where I can feel her heartbeat through her chest, and she can feel my own. “But they balance one another perfectly,” I respond in a whisper, and I know she can tell that I’m not talking about the countryside or the city anymore.

She smiles softly. “You think so?”

“Of course.” I arch an eyebrow. “One reminds the other of reality, and to be thankful for all the finer things in life.” I look to her pointedly. “And the other is responsible for spoiling the first rotten with every luxury imaginable.”

She laughs. “Hmm. Sounds like the city boy is trying to corrupt the country girl.”

My eyes spark with mischief. “Is being corrupted really so bad?” I slide a hand down over her curves, tracing her sides, her hips. All the way to the core of her, where my fingertip plays with her clit. She’s still swollen, aching from our sex, and I’m rewarded with a faint gasp the moment my fingertips graze the edge.

“Maybe not,” she admits slowly, a purr in her voice that makes my cock jump to attention, the blood starting to flow south once more.

Around her, it’s hard for me to stay disinterested long. I could go all night if she keeps looking at me the way she is now. I plan to, in fact.

But first… I stand up and offer a hand. She takes it and lets me pull her up off the couch beside me. My eyes sparkle with mischief. “Come on, dirty country girl,” I tell her, right before I scoop her into my arms. She lets out a shriek, before she catches me around the neck to brace herself, as I start to carry her, both of us still completely naked, across the apartment, toward the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Or at the very least, get us both all wet again,” I add, and she snickers when she realizes what I’m thinking.

After all, we haven’t enjoyed the enormous jacuzzi style tub we have together yet…

I lose track of how many times I make her come that night. At least a dozen by the time the sun rises over the apartment, and the mess we’ve left behind. But god, it’s worth all the sleeplessness, and all the sore muscles we’ll both have tomorrow.

I want to spend every night for the rest of my life like this. Pleasuring her and enjoying her pleasure. Soaping her up in the heated bathtub and then slowly washing her down, teasing her the whole time, toying with her body, while her hands wander over mine, and she does the same, stroking me underneath the warm water, her hands tight around my thick cock—thick enough that she needs both hands to wrap fully around me.