The dress Calloway bought me was sleeveless with a sweetheart top. It was tight around my waist then flared out once it reached my hips. It was a soft gold color with black highlights, stunning but subtle at the same time.
I never wanted to take it off.
I walked downstairs and slipped on my heels, feeling five inches taller the second they were on. I was organizing my clutch when I heard Calloway reach the bottom stair behind me. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
He came up behind me and pressed his lips against the back of my neck. His hand moved to my hips where he gripped me tightly, digging his fingers right through the fabric and into my skin. He held me like that for nearly a minute, just breathing with me. “I haven’t even seen your face, and you still look beautiful.”
“I hope you don’t prefer me that way,” I teased.
He chuckled against my neck. “I do sometimes—but not right now.” He guided my hips with his hands and turned me around until I faced him. The arrogant smile that was on his face slowly faded away, replaced with a softer expression I rarely saw. His hand moved to my neck where he gently laid his fingers against my warm skin, his thumb right over my pulse. He didn’t make a comment because it wasn’t necessary. His thoughts were written on his face like text on a page.
My hand moved around his wrist so I could feel his pulse, noticing how soft and rhythmic it was. When I gripped him during lovemaking, it was usually pounding with adrenaline. Now I could feel a gentle side of him.
“I don’t think I can wait until the end of the night to make love to you, sweetheart.” He came closer to me until his face was pressed to mine. He didn’t kiss me, but his lips were close enough that I could feel the magnetic pull between our mouths.
I didn’t know how much time we had, but I realized I didn’t really care. I’d spent an hour doing my hair and makeup, but now I didn’t care about messing it up. When he looked at me like that, all I wanted was to be united with him. “Then don’t.”
10
Calloway
I did my best to keep her dress nice and not mess up her hair, which she spent nearly an hour doing. I took her at the foot of the bed with my slacks around my ankles and my collared shirt wide open. My jacket had been laid on the bed instead of tossed on the floor where I would normally throw it.
I wasn’t in the mood to fuck her, not like I usually was. When I saw how beautiful she looked, so elegant and exquisite, my heart did a strange somersault. I just wanted to be buried inside her, to feel my woman in a way no one else ever had.
I moved my enormous length deep inside her slowly, nearly hitting her in the cervix before I pulled out again. Her arousal was drenched around me, and she was tight like she always was. In the moment, I didn’t care about the charity gala. If I walked in late, I didn’t give a shit. When I wanted my woman, I took her. There was no way in hell I was going to wait until the end of the evening. Knowing me, we would just hook up in the bathroom anyway.
And her dress would definitely get dirty then.
She lay absolutely still so she wouldn’t mess up her hair, but when she started to climax, she arched her body and tilted her head, her expression utterly sexy. “Calloway…”
Fuck, I loved it when she said my name.
I enjoyed the rest of the show, watching her writhe and ride the high until she was completely finished.
I finally forgot I was pissed at her for not telling me the truth about her past, for not telling me her real name. When we were connected like this, man and woman, her secrets seemed irrelevant. My obsession rekindled to new heights, and I enjoyed her just the way I used to.
I would have kept going if we didn’t have anywhere to be. But since we did, I knew it was time to finish. I continued my slow pumps until my cock thickened and it was hard as steel. It was the best part about the orgasm, about the exquisite explosion in my cock before I finally released.
I hit my threshold then released inside her, filling her with all of my come, where it would remain for the rest of the night. I would show her off to my respected colleagues and donors, knowing she was full of my seed. It would make me feel like a man.
My woman always made me feel like a man.