~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Brianna
M ichael carries me like I weigh no more than a feather. It’s hard not to stare at everything we pass—this house is spectacular—but fortunately he goes to the closest room and brings me to the bed. Outside the window, I see mountains and trees, and the whole thing is so romantic, I just want to toss my arms around Michael and thank him for bringing me here. And then I want to show him how much it means to me with my hands. And my mouth.
He lowers me to the bed and doesn’t waste any time pulling off my pants so I’m only in my underwear.
“It’s almost a shame to have to take this off,” he says, eyes wandering over the lace of my bra, and then down to my panties, which are equally lacy and skimpy.
“We can save this for another time if you’d prefer,” I joke.
“Not funny. I want you right now.”
He yanks off his boxers and joins me on the bed to remove my bra and panties. Before he can lean over me, I nudge him back on the pillows. His cock is thick, and I haven’t had the chance to get my mouth on it. It curves up to his abdomen, long and already moistened at the end, waiting.
I crawl between his thighs, brushing his hands aside when he reaches for me.
“Patience,” I murmur.
“Brianna.” His voice is strained. “It’s—God—”
His words are choked as I wrap my mouth around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue over the tip, listening to his groans, and then slide my lips as far down as I can go. He’s so long, he hits the back of my throat, and I still haven’t completely sheathed him.
“Brianna—” he chokes out.
His hands clench on the comforter, and a thrill of pleasure races through me. Chet never seemed impressed with anything I did to take care of him. But with Michael, it seems like he loves everything I do. Like he can hardly stand it because I pleasure him so well.
It makes me want to do more.
I slide my mouth up and down, completely wetting his shaft and making his body tighten even more. His dick jerks inside my mouth, so I grip it with my hand at the base so I can pump there at the same time I use my lips.
Michael’s body tenses again and he grabs my arms. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”
I keep doing it, wanting to feel him come because of my actions, but his fingers tighten.
“No, Brianna.” He meets my eyes. “I want to be inside of you when I come.”
I sit up. He pulls me close, mouth locking on mine as he maneuvers me so I’m lying back on the bed. My whole body tingles when I feel him hovering over me.
His abs are rock hard, his dick brushing my leg and driving me crazy, and all I want is to feel his hands all over me. I want to feel him inside of me, pumping and pumping until neither of us are coherent.
“Michael,” I say, practically begging. “Please.”
He kisses down my jaw, then presses his mouth to my collarbone and slides his tongue all the way down to one breast. I arch my back, pressing my hips up to his, trying to get him to slide inside of me.
When he tongues my nipple, swirling it around until it’s a tight bud, I moan and grab his mouth to bring it back to mine.
And just when our lips touch, he presses my legs further apart with his knee, and slides into me. We both release a slow breath at the same time because it feels so good.
“You’re on fire,” he murmurs.
He feels the same inside of me. Hot, smooth, so thick it stretches me wider and wider, drawing more and more pleasure from me.
“Yes.” I pump my hips against his, trying to get him to go deeper. “I can feel you so far inside of me.”
When our bodies are completely joined, Michael kisses me again slowly. Lingeringly. And then he starts to slide in and out. He picks up speed until his sack is slapping against my damp flesh and our hearts are racing out of control.
“Keep going,” I say, on the brink of losing it. “Keep going.”
He switches his rhythm, so his dick is hitting another part inside of me, a sensitive place that feels so good every time he moves.
“God, Brianna, I can’t—”
“Then don’t,” I say, panting. “I want to feel you come.”
But he doesn’t let go until he’s pumped hard into me and I shoot over the edge, the orgasm slamming through me with so much force my back comes up off the bed. Michael follows behind me, his body jerking against mine as he pours into me.
His arms come around me, and then he’s clutching me to his chest as the world shakes around us. It’s a long time before my body stops tingling, before Michael’s arms relax and we both go limp on the bed.
“Fuck,” he whispers, breath tickling my cheek. “You’re so tight. You feel so good.”
I squeeze my thighs around him and he hisses out a breath when I nearly make him come again. “I can’t—not yet.”
I chuckle softly. Michael pulls out of me and we both stretch next to each other on the bed.
“How do you feel?” he asks, rubbing his hand on my arm.
“Better. A lot better than I felt earlier this week.”
“I’m glad.”
“How about you?”
He turns to me and props his head on his hand. “I feel good. Like I should be doing this more often. With you.”
“Do you get to take much time off of work for things like this?”
“Time off?” He laughs. “No.”
“Ever?”
He sighs. “What for? I like to be at work, I like to be in the middle making sure things run smoothly. I haven’t really had a reason to be away. Until now.”
The words hit me right in the heart. He’d taken time away from work, something he rarely ever did, for me.
“You’ve had a girlfriend before though, right?” I ask, averting my eyes. “Someone you’ve wanted to spend time with?”
Michael brushes his thumb on my cheek, making my eyes come up again. “Lots of questions.”
“I’m curious.”
“Me too.”
My stomach clenches. I don’t want to talk about me. I don’t have good things to say about my past or who I’ve been with or where I’ve come from. I want to talk about him and know more, find out who he is.
“I guess it’s a little easier on my end,” I say. “I can just look you up. I’m sure I can find out all about your old girlfriends or ex-fiancées through the news. You got to see mine up close and personal.”
Michael frowns. “I don’t want you to find out about all those things through an article. They’re not…who I really am. Or was. Just like learning about you through Chet isn’t real either.”
Something else crosses his features that I can’t make out.
“What is it?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Should we shower? I can give you a tour.”
I cover my disappointment with a smile. “Sure.”
He’s probably thinking more clearly than I am. It makes sense to settle in here first before we get to the serious topics—if we do at all. Maybe it makes sense to avoid them altogether. I know we both said we were going to start over and give this a shot, but we probably weren’t talking about the same thing.
I was talking about a relationship with him. A real relationship within the arrangement. He probably thought I meant another chance at the fake relationship—and it’s probably smarter. Getting feelings involved changes the game completely.
We both get up from the bed and I watch Michael as he moves in a leisurely stretch. I’ve never seen a finer specimen. He’s strong and toned but still capable of being gentle. And something tells me his heart is just as gentle. And strong.
If only he’d open up to me.
When I head to the bathroom, Michael snags my hand. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to need some help in there.”
I grin up at him, trying to forget my worries. “I’m pretty sure you’re right.”
As we start the water and step into the shower together, I vow to set aside my thoughts and worries and simply enjoy the weekend with someone who wants to be with me.