THEY WASTED LITTLE TIME ARRIVING in Michael’s hotel suite, ridding each other of their clothes, and fusing their bodies together. His suit concealed baby smooth skin. Solid, well-defined muscles betrayed what had first seemed like a leaner build. A devastatingly beautiful tattoo of she-couldn’t-tell-what covered the whole of his back and some of his shoulders. The room was dim, but she didn’t need to see him in full light to see that he was well-proportioned, everywhere.
That they had one condom between them did nothing to prevent him from making good on his promise. He’d given her her first orgasm before they’d even reached the bed, a clever finger stroking her clit as he’d held her tightly from behind. He’d stood her before a dressing mirror, one arm that felt as strong as steel holding her torso in place as his erection strained hard against her back. He’d opened her up skillfully, lifting one of her legs off the ground and hitching it back to wrap around his.
She hadn’t been with anyone in months, and knew it wouldn’t take much. But the image of herself spread wide open as he slowly stroked her slippery wetness, his feline eyes watching them in the reflection swiftly undid her. She came hard and quick, her head falling backwards on his shoulder as she did.
As she caught her breath, she expected him to help her down, to disentangle her leg from where he’d wrapped it around his. But he kept her where he was, and the next thing she knew, his fingers were sweeping her long hair over one shoulder.
At first, his gentle touch on her neck simply felt nice, somewhat light and maybe even a bit tender. It was when his finger-strokes turned to kisses and kisses into nips that she began to feel it in other places. From the tips of her nipples, right down through her spine, she tingled in her core. It felt too good for her to stop and think about how this was possible, about how easily Michael’s touch to her neck was electrifying her whole body He wasn’t even touching her there yet, but she felt the second orgasm coming just around the bend.
Craving more, she tilted her head to give him better access. Hearing the sounds she was making only turned her on more. They were unprecedented, but so was Michael’s intensity, which left no room to stop and think about why this felt so good. When Michael began to hum in satisfaction with every delicious bite, she knew she was close.
She said his name, a plea for him to give her what she needed, and reached backward to grasp the back of his head, needing to hold onto something as she felt the heel of his hand moving back down. He slid a long finger inside her as he devoured her neck, his other fingers loosening their hold long enough to pinch her nipple, and that was all it took for her to come again.
They finally made it to his bed, but she ignored his outstretched hand, an invitation to join him in lying down. Instead, she straddled him, her bottom resting on his thighs. His erection stood long and thick, and even though she had just come twice, her pussy twitched at the thought of how good it would hurt to have him inside her.
But she wanted to return the favor, to repay his seduction with something equally impressive. Maybe it was her competitive nature, but she needed to undo him the way he had undone her. She touched him lightly, watching his face as her fingers roamed. Michael was at once controlled and expressive as her nails grazed lightly up his shaft. She watched him as her fingertips stroked his balls, as her fist tugged gently at his head. She could tell from his breath which of her ministrations he liked, but his face didn’t reveal which ones he liked the most. She wasn’t so much trying to tease him as she was trying to learn him. A man’s willingness to accept pleasure he couldn’t control said a lot.
His eyes fell shut in grateful anticipation when she began to slide up his body. So many men were all fuck, no foreplay, but something about the way he writhed beneath her and the small sounds he made showed that he needed this, that it brought him some deep satisfaction.
Lowering her nose to his belly button, she grazed against him all the way up to one of his nipples before tugging on it with her teeth, earning her a flex of his hips and a low moan. Darby was positioning herself right over him when she felt his hand reach toward the nightstand, for the lone condom, but drew his arm back. Instead, she settled her center right over his shaft, steering clear of his head, and slid up and down, spreading her wetness all over him. She lowered herself so that the tips of her nipples tickled his chest as she moved. Her mind flashed to the Vinyasa yoga class she took when it was too cold to run the lake, to all the Chaturangas that had prepared her for this moment. On anyone smaller, this wouldn’t have worked, but Michael was impressively long. And since she was still so wet, she had plenty to give him, and gave it to him painfully slow.
“God, that’s hot,” he breathed, maybe at the combination of things she was doing, maybe because he anticipated what she had in mind. On her last pass, she slid herself over his head before returning to sit on his thighs and began to thoroughly lube him up for the hand job that was to come.
And so she began, with not one hand, but two, her thumb sweeping at his tip to make use of his precum, which she mixed with her own juices before working him up and down. He was exquisite in every beautiful change in his face, every thrust of his hips, the flexing of his corded forearm muscles as his hands gripped the sheets of the bed.
And then it happened. Unfiltered ecstasy. She’d heard it building in his breath and felt it in the connection his hands sought out on her hips the moment before he came. It was honest and raw and he looked her right in the eyes instead of closing his or looking away. Everything inside her tightened at the sound he made when he came, a helpless moan and a shudder that she felt all the way down to her toes.
In the hours that followed, they rolled smoothly between moments like that—of raw, intense pleasure—and stretches of languid recovery. He took his time touching every inch of her body, learning it with his fingers and his nose and his mouth. He kissed her for what felt like hours. When the heat between them flared too high, he gave her even more. His mouth eating her pussy gave her number three. His long finger inside her stroking her g-spot as his thumb massaged her clit gave her number four. Five had been a sublime combination of both.
“Holy shit.”
She was breathless, the hint of an incredulous smile on her lips as she angled her head lazily back down toward him. Her neglected pussy felt thoroughly sated and she fought the impulse to thank him. But the look he gave her as he rose onto his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, was just short of predatory. Five times, he’d taken her to her happy place. But looking down at his cock reminded her that she’d left him in a different place entirely. Straining harder than before, its glistening tip revealed that it was leaking. That was when the smile disappeared from her face. He had more than earned what was coming.
“Don’t be gentle.”
She saw the exact moment his restraint broke. He was still rolling the Magnum on with one hand when he used the other one to roll her over. And he wasn’t gentle about it, not when he’d nudged her legs open and pulled her up on her knees, not when he pushed inside her in a single hard stroke. The strained growl that emanated from him the second he was sheathed inside her was not gentle and the way he started fucking her wasn’t either.
Riding her hard, he laid her out over and over, plying her body to achieve positions that opened her completely to him. But it wasn’t mindless fucking. Though what she had expected—maybe even hoped for—was that he would use her body, selfishly seeking his own release. But he was with her somehow—really with her—in every stroke and every breath. It was terrifying and gratifying all at once—the illusion of deep connection.
The rhythm that overtook them was primal. It felt desperate and right. It made her do things she had never—not once—had the impulse to do. She bit his shoulder as he fucked her against the wall, his pelvis grinding her g-spot; she licked salty sweat off of his clavicle when they rode each other face-to- face minutes later. And when she clenched powerfully around him, the sensation making him feel even bigger inside her, she screamed. He moaned loudly at this, seeming to be pushed over the edge by her display, gasping deeply before letting out a long, deep, wobbly moan. He held her still for a long moment as they caught their breath, foreheads leaned against one another as they waited for the last of stray pulses and twitches to subside.
He was still inside her a minute later when he pulled back a little to put his eyes up to hers. He lifted his hands to smooth her hair back and gave her a long, reverent kiss. She felt a sense of loss when he eased her off of him and set her down on the bed.
Closing her eyes as she listened to him walk away, and heard water begin to run in the bathroom, she suppressed her awareness that she already missed the connection. She now understood better what he had said on the beach. It hadn’t felt transactional. Though it had been fucking—shameless and wanton and between two virtual strangers—it had also felt deeply personal, as if he had unlocked some secret, treasured place within her and shared some piece of himself that nobody knew. She now understood why women fell in love with him. When it came to sexual charisma, he was a natural.
She was seconds away from getting up from the bed, locating her clothes, asking him to zip her back into her dress, and bidding him goodbye, a goodbye that would include her leaving him her number because there was no way she would turn down a repeat performance of sex as good as that.
She felt the bed dip a little and was startled by a warm washcloth being pressed between her legs. Her eyes flew open to find Michael hovering over her on one knee looking down to where he had cupped her and began to clean her gently. He gave her a smile once he had finished. Only then did she notice the other washcloth in his hand. Setting hers down on the bedside table, he stood up and focused on cleaning himself. When he rearranged the disheveled covers, climbed into bed and tucked her under his arm, she abandoned thoughts of leaving. Just before drifting off to sleep, she noticed that the sun had already begun to rise.
The next morning, she awoke to the regretful realization that she had to leave right away if she wanted to catch her flight. Torn between wanting to avoid a potentially awkward conversation and wanting to see his stunning eyes one last time, she decided that she didn’t have the heart to wake him from his much-deserved slumber. So she left him a note on the nightstand, jotting down her phone number on the hotel stationary, along with two simple words: “You’re hired.” She hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long for his call.