Chapter Seven
Natalie
I glanced over my shoulder as I made my way down the corridor, praying that no one had seen me come in. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was getting more and more brazen by the second, and it felt so fucking good.
I hurried along to the door that was marked with Jacob’s name, and knocked the special knock that we had agreed upon the day before, when we’d managed to steal away to his hotel room to fool around before we were chased out by his agent looking for him. I had been craving him inside of me ever since, desperate to feel him again, and I was so close to getting what I wanted. What I needed.
Jacob opened the door, and I took a second to take him all in; he was shirtless, still sweaty from the fight, and I could see the adrenalin pumping in his expression. Oh, this was going to be good.
“Get in here before someone sees you,” he ordered, grabbing me and pulling me in. I slammed the door behind us, and he pulled me tightly against his body, running one hand through my hair while the other strayed down to grope on my ass.
“I saw you out there,” he murmured into my ear as he kissed my neck. “While I was fighting. And all I wanted was to march out there and fuck you to within an inch of your life in front of everyone.”
“Yeah?” I panted, my body already reacting to his touch. The effect he had on me was borderline absurd; I had never been attracted to someone the way I was to him. Or maybe it was just the clandestine nature of our affair; I had always been a sucker for doing what I wasn’t meant to do, and this was pretty much the perfect example of that.
“Oh, yeah,” he assured me, raking up my skirt so that I was exposed from the waist down. He ran his hand over my ass, cupping my pussy, and grinned against my neck.
“No panties,” he observed, and I shimmied myself back and forth against his hand for a couple of seconds.
“But of course,” I replied casually, as if it should have been obvious. He let out something that was half between a groan and a growl, and turned me around so that I was bent over the dressing table that sat in the corner of the room. He pushed my skirt up over my hips, knelt behind me, and pressed his face into my already-soaked pussy.
“Shit!” I gasped as his tongue flicked out across my clit. How many times had we done this, and he still managed to surprise me every time?
“Watch yourself,” he ordered. “I want you to watch me make you come.”I opened my eyes, as though under some kind of trance. I wasn’t sure what it was he did to me, but I didn’t have it in me to turn him down; he always knew just how far to push my boundaries, just enough to make me squirm with the filthiness of it without taking it too far. He dipped a finger into my slit, just enough to get it wet, and I watched in the mirror as my eyes widened and my mouth dropped open. More than anything I wanted to watch him, but his head was obscured at the angle we found ourselves at, so I had to rely on sensation alone. Not that I was complaining.
He took his slick finger and pressed it against the ring of my ass; my eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he wriggled the tip inside of me, moving it gently so that I could get used to the feeling of his finger in my butt. He matched the movement of his tongue with the shallow fucking he was giving my asshole, and I began to rock my hips back and forth in an effort to match his pace.
Fuck, that felt good. Too good. I gritted my teeth, determined to stretch it out, determined to make myself wait. But he didn’t want that. Jacob was always, always looking to make me come, an ambition that I was hardly going to talk him out of.
“Open your eyes,” he rasped, the order cutting through the air. My eyes flew open, and the look on my own face was enough to push me over the edge. I had never seen anything like it in my life; completely unself-conscious, I had given myself over to the pleasure of the situation and nothing was going to convince me not to. My mouth was open, my brow furrowed, my breath coming hard and fast enough that it was starting to fog up the mirror a little.
Jacob sealed his lips over my clit and sucked, hard, and suddenly the orgasm ripped through me, my entire body arching upwards and my hands scrambling on the dressing table for some kind of purchase as my pussy clenched and my ass pulsed and my muscles tensed and released over and over again until I felt as though I might collapse under the weight of it.
“Ready?” Jacob asked, getting to my feet. I nodded, unable to speak. He pulled a condom from the pocket of his shorts, and I realized he must have had it in there the entire time he was fighting. So, he could have had me whenever he wanted. The thought was almost too hot to consider. He sheathed himself, positioned himself at the entrance to my slit, and pushed himself inside of me in one hard motion.
Both of us let out a deep, guttural groan, the kind that echoed off the walls around us and made me wonder if anyone had cottoned on to what we were doing in here, yet. Jacob ran his hand down my spine, over my neck, and wrapped my hair lightly around his fingers. He tugged slightly, pulling my head back, and I opened my eyes again to look at us in the mirror. There he was, one hand on my hip and his eyes boring down into my own, fucking me as hard as he could. Everything on the dressing table shuddered with every thrust and my eyes met his. I loved the look in his eyes when he got like this, the darkness that seemed to overwhelm him all at once when he was deep inside of me.
“You look so fucking good like this,” he growled, leaning down to pepper a line of kisses along my spine. He landed a harsh slap on my ass, making me jump and then flood with adrenalin. He knew exactly what to do to get me to his level, and I was loving every second of it.
“Not so bad yourself,” I gasped in response.
“Harder?” He asked.
“Harder.”
He plowed into me with such force that my hips were thrust forward against the table with every movement, but I didn’t give a fuck. I had wanted him for what felt like an eternity, and now that I had him I wasn’t going to start complaining, no matter what. I gritted my teeth, straddling that incredible feeling between pleasure and pain and endlessly, unstoppably aching for more.
“Fuck, Natalie,” he panted, and hearing him say my name sent another shudder of pleasure through my body. I looked up at his face, and seeing the way it contorted, the depth with which he wanted me- that was enough.
The second orgasm coursed through my body like a relief, as intense as the one that had come before but in a completely different way. I stared up at Jacob, watching him, taking him in, as he found his own release inside of me; his cock twitched as he slammed himself deep one more time, and he let out a guttural groan that seemed to envelop the both of us completely.
He slowly pulled himself out of me and disposed of the condom, and I took a second to regain my composure. Well, forgive me, I had just been fucking so hard that I wasn’t sure my legs were even going to de-jellify. I adjusted my skirt and sat down on the couch that had been conveniently placed just a few feet away for me to collapse into. Jacob turned and laughed at my exhaustion.
“You know we’ve got the after-party to go to, right?” he pointed out, and I let my head fall back with a groan of annoyance.
“How do you have any energy after what we just did?” I protested, gesturing at him in irritation. “How are you not as exhausted as I am right now?”
“I must handle my orgasms better,” he teased, pulling on a shirt as he got changed. “Plus, winning the fight. That helped.”
“Yeah, well done and all that,” I waved my hand vaguely in his direction. “You must be pleased.”
“Yeah, I didn’t expect it,” he grinned, and I could read the glee in his voice even if he was doing his best to pretend that it wasn’t there. He had been up against a state-wide champion and the odds had been against it; it had been a long, tough fight but he had come out on top at the end-up. I had found myself cheering from the crowd the whole time, flinching at every punch landed on him and clapping at every one he landed on his opponent. I
stretched out on the couch. I could so easily have just gone to sleep right here if he’d let me.
“Come on,” he ordered, pulling me to my feet. “We should probably get some panties on you, too.”
“Or we could sneak back in here later and do the same again?” I suggested, eyebrows raised. He grinned, and pulled me flush against his body. He paused for a moment, looking down at me, and then planted a kiss on my lips.
As our lips met, I couldn’t shake that nagging feeling at the back of my head that told me this wasn’t what fuck-buddies did. We were doing a shitty, shitty job of keeping it casual so far, and neither one of us was oblivious to it. I was finding myself more and more invested in his fights, in his winning, that ever before, and the fact that we had to just sit and do interviews with each other without fucking turned this more into a relationship than anything else.And yet, neither of us seemed particularly keen on changing that. I liked him. I liked him a lot. And it was more than just the sex, even though I had to admit that I had never been fucked as well in my life and I was pretty sure that he felt the same way about me. He was smarter than he let himself be in front of everyone else - he usually employed the façade of the douchey-but-successful fighter when he had a whole lot more going on than that.
He knew how carefully cultivated his image was and it was important to him to hold on to that, and everything he did was tailored to make sure that his brand stayed untouched and perfect. Everything except me, of course. I didn’t fit very nicely into that whole world at all. And yet, here he was – still with me. Still making the time. Still stealing me away from my note-transcription to spend a euphoric night in bed with mini-bottles of liquor and him. Jesus, how could one man somehow create and fulfill a dozen different fantasies every time I saw him?
He pulled back and smiled at me, his arms still wrapped tight around my body. I flushed, and felt a little uptick in my chest as I realized just how fucking happy I was to have a few minutes to spend with him, just the two of us. He touched his nose to mine lightly in a gesture so pointedly cute I thought my heart might burst out of my ribcage, and then pulled away.
“You look nice today,” he remarked. “Not just because of the no-panties thing either. Your hair suits you like that.”
I flushed and patted my hair, which I’d curled around my shoulders earlier in the day for reasons that hadn’t been clear to me then. Was it because these little moments were the closest thing we could get to dates? I knew I was probably being crazy – that he saw us as nothing more than fuck-buddies while we were on the road – but the way he treated me spoke to so much more than that.
“Ready?” He asked. I nodded.
“You go first, I’ll catch you up,” I sighed, and he leaned in to plant a quick kiss on my cheek.
“Catch you back here later?” He suggested sweetly, and I shrugged.
“Sure thing,” I replied with a fake smile, and watched as he made his way out of the door in front of us. Left alone in the room, I flopped back dramatically against the couch and started to count to one-hundred before I left for the party too. We had to put plenty of space between us to keep anyone from getting too suspicious. But that space was starting to feel like more trouble than it was worth.