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Late Call (Call #1) by Hart, Emma (13)

 

“We’re going.” His husky voice breathes hot air across the back of my neck.

“It’s still early.”

“Turn around.”

I spin and rest my hands against his chest.

“Now tell me,” he whispers, bringing his face to mine. “Do I look like a give a fuck?”

“No.”

Aaron’s hand snakes around my waist. “Then let’s go.”

He leads me through the hall and we aren’t stopped once. No goodbyes, no excusing ourselves, none of the usual bullshit that comes with leaving a business dinner.

“No goodbyes?” I mutter.

He spins me into the wall of the elevator and presses his lips against mine. “I’m going to be inside you within the hour and you’re worried about saying goodbye?”

My breath catches in my throat.

“Hmm?”

“No. Not worried,” I squeak.

He takes my mouth firmly in a way that makes my body melt beneath him. I’m molten lava, hot and gooey under his touch, easy molded and teased into pure, red-hot desire.

I want this. I want this so fucking badly my body aches with the sheer pressure of it. I want—I need—his body lying over mine as he sinks his cock deep inside me and fucks me with the same intensity he kisses me with.

I want to remember how it feels to be desired for me.

Aaron pulls me into the suite, both our breathing heavy. “Leave it. All the client bullshit, all the money, and all the obligations. Leave it in the motherfucking elevator and tell me you want me.” His eyes sear into mine, lighting my whole body up. “Tell me you want me to fuck you so hard the only thing you’ll be able to scream by the end of the night is my name.”

Everything clenches. I can’t breathe and I can’t think and I can’t hear anything over the pounding of my blood through my body.

“Say it!” he growls, pulling me closer.

“I want you!” I whimper. “Fucking hell. I shouldn’t but I do. I want you.”

“How badly?”

“Don’t push it.”

“How fucking badly?”

“So bad that if you don’t kiss me right this fucking second I might hit you!”

His lips attack mine with a delicious desperateness I feel in every fiber of my being. The raw need I feel as his tongue sweeps mine spreads through my body and tugs at the most intimate part of me. My nipples pebble inside my bra and my fingers work the buttons on his jacket with ease. I slide it over his shoulders.

“Want me or need me?” he breathes against my mouth.

“Shut up and take it off before I rip it off.”

“You forgot something.” He unzips my dress.

“What’s that?”

“My name.”

I pull back slightly. “I’m about to rip your shirt off, Mr. Stone. Are you okay with that?”

“Not really.”

I tear it apart, buttons popping. “Tough shit.”

He laughs, his bare hands spreading across my back, and plunges his tongue into my mouth. My back hits the wall with the force of him against mine, and I swear to fucking god I’d climb on him if I could.

His lips caress mine and his tongue explores my mouth like I’m an undiscovered cave ready to be exposed of my secrets. My dress slips over my shoulders and he helps it along the way, kissing my neck and easing the lace away until there’s a pool of turquoise at my feet.

I run my fingers down his body, our panting breaths mixing together, and rest my fingers on the buckle of his belt.

“Hell no.” He takes my hands away and holds them to the sides. “Don’t you remember what I said?”

Yes. I remember. Every muscle in my body tenses.

He chuckles against my neck. “I’m going to taste you now, Dayton. And I’m going to take my sweet fucking time exploring every bit of that beautiful cunt.”

His lips ignite a blazing trail down my neck and collarbone. I sink my fingers into his mass of dark hair and revel at the sensations flooding my body, feeling like a virgin again.

The tingles, the nerves, the incessant ache—it’s all so new to me, so unrecognized, feelings that have been buried for seven years.

The feelings that have been buried since him are now alive again. For him.

He makes his way down my body, my breath catching with every tender kiss against my skin, until he reaches my hips. He slips a finger through the string of material there and runs it along, his knuckles brushing my core.

“I like these. I hope you asked her for more than one pair.”

He rips them from me before I can ask why.

“Nope. Just that one.”

“Order more.” He breathes the words over my tender flesh that’s crying out for his touch. His mouth, his hands, his cock. I don’t care anymore. My body is screaming for him from every pore, begging for him from every curve.

Aaron runs his hands up my thighs and hooks them over his shoulders. I flatten my hands against the wall at the feeling of hot air across my clit.

“Please.”

He squeezes my ass. “Are you begging?”

“No.”

He runs his nose up the inside of my thigh and stops before he hits the apex, before he hits the part of my body desperately needing him.

“Are you begging?”

“Yes. I’m fucking begging you!”

His tongue slides along me slowly. I arch my back at the pure pleasure that shivers through my body. God. One stroke of his tongue and I’m flying somewhere else, especially when he flicks the tip of it into my pussy, stretching it upward.

“Fuck,” he moans, his tongue still against my aching core and dragging along me. “You taste amazing.”

The pressure he applies to my clit sends waves through my stomach. I moan out loud and he licks along me repeatedly, leaving no part of me untouched by his hot tongue. I writhe against him with each stroke of his tongue, each one bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

He holds me to the wall with his hand, pinning my hips, and frantically circles his tongue against me. My clit swells and I throw my head back, unable to control the cries leaving my parted lips or the shuddering of my body.

“Dayton,” he growls against my opening and presses his thumb to my sensitive clit. I fall apart, deliciously, deliriously, hovering somewhere unearthly as pleasure hits me full force.

I come back to now slowly, my head buzzing and my body on fire, and feel the head of him resting against my opening. I can feel the wetness I’m spilling over him and the way he’s rubbing his cock against it. He does it for so long. Too long. It feels like he’s been hovering against me for hours.

“For the love of God, Aaron,” I pant. “Just fuck me already!”

His cock slides into me with ease, stretching me and filling me. I shudder around him, my muscles clenching at his sudden invasion, and his lips brush mine.

“You asked for it.”

One hand holds my hip and the other grabs the back of my head. He pounds into me relentlessly, each time going a little deeper and hitting that spot a little harder. Our skin is slick against each other’s, coated in sweat born of a frantic orgasm and the raw need for a release.

Each stroke of him inside me makes me tighten, and I grasp his hair tighter. I grasp it and I curl it around my fingers and I tug at it. My forehead hits his shoulder as he thrusts into me relentlessly. Tears build behind my eyes at the pure power of him, the desperate way he moans my name a trigger for my own building orgasm.

I hold back. I need him inside me. I need to feel him connected to me and indulging in me. I need to feel every single fucking part of his body against mine as long as possible.

Every part of him is sacred to me.

“Stop fucking holding it back,” he hisses into my ear. The husky undertone forces my muscles to tighten around him and I squeeze his cock. Hard. “Fuck. Dayton. Come. Now!”

I throw my head back and let it build into me with each relentless pound of him inside me. He grabs my jaw and tugs my face down.

“Eyes. Look at me.”

My eyes open but flutter back closed at the overwhelming hit of the beginning of an orgasm.

“Open your eyes!”

I force them open and stare into a pool of dark blue passion.

“Don’t you dare close them. I want to see you and feel you come.” He pushes into me deeply.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“Hard. Come hard or not at all. Got it?”

I nod.

I get it.

He picks the pace up again. My eyes stay on his, the intensity of his gaze only increasing the pressure in my body. It builds and builds, shaking my muscles and making my heart pound and panting all my breaths until finally.

Finally.

His name leaves my mouth in a desperate scream. My pussy clenches around him until he groans my name into my shoulder. I milk him for everything he has, taking everything from him until his body is limp against mine.

Heavy breaths coat his body the way his does mine. My legs ache as the orgasm subsides, and I want to drop them, but I don’t want to lose the feeling of completeness I have with him inside me.

Like he knows, he kisses me and pulls me from the wall. I hug him to me as he walks, each step another jolting thrust inside me. He lays me back on the bed.

I refuse to let go. He doesn’t say a word.

He lowers himself on top of me and spins us to the side. His arms go around me and he pulls me into his body.

I snuggle in, still riding a high from the intense orgasm that just racked my body, and fall asleep with him still inside me.

A murmur of “Good morning” and a thumb brushing across my cheek stirs me. I stretch out and let my eyes flutter open. Aaron stares back at me with curved lips.

“Good morning,” he repeats.

“Mmm.” I roll onto my side. “No it isn’t.”

“Any morning after a night like last night can’t be bad.” He runs a finger down my side. My bare side.

I yank the covers up to his deep chuckle. “Go away. Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“What are you doing here?”

He stands and holds up a finger. I frown when he disappears from the room and stare at the door. What the?

Oh.

He fills the doorway, black slacks resting low on his hips and shirtless, a mug of coffee in one hand and a plate of food in the other.

“Is that for me?” I ask, my eyes tracing the lines on his stomach.

God, he’s so beautiful. I desperately try to find a scar or spot or mole or something on his body, but there isn’t one. Just a chest and a stomach that have been sculpted by someone who knows women so well they probably created the vibrator too.

My eyes drop to his hips and the clearly defined muscle that dips down, the very muscle my tongue has run along, catching water droplets and eliciting groans from the pink lips I just know are pursed in amusement.

“Is what for you?”

“Both,” I mutter. Wait. That wasn’t supposed to come out. I shake my head and meet his eyes. “The food. And the coffee. Definitely those.”

He grins and crosses the room, placing the coffee on the nightstand and the plate in my lap. Mmm. Bacon, eggs, and toast.

I make a mental note to check out the gym facilities here. Maybe tomorrow.

“They are for you.”

“Thank you.”

Aaron leans forward and touches his lips to mine, tugging on my bottom lip as he pulls away. “And so am I. I’m all for you, baby.”

“That’s my word.”

“Baby?”

“Yep.”

“Are you using it?”

“Right now?” I chew some bacon and he nods. “No.”

“Then I’m using it.” He sits on the end of the bed and watches me as I eat. “You don’t use it nearly enough.”

“What? ‘Baby?’”

“Yep.”

“That’s because I don’t need to use it all the time. I only need to use it when I’m being your girlfriend, and that’s only when we’re in public.”

Something glimmers in his eyes. “I’m changing it.”

I pick up my coffee mug and hide behind it. “You can’t.”

“Of course I can. As you so often remind me, I pay for the privilege of you by my side.” Disgust filters in his voice, and I know it’s at the ‘paying for me’ part. The annoyed twist of his lip that disappears as quickly as it appeared tells me that.

“So you do.”

“That means I can change the agreement at any time. And I’m changing it now.”

I’m not going to like this. Or at least, I’m not going to want to like it.

“Go on.”

He crosses the room and pulls a shirt on, pausing before he buttons it and glancing at me. I keep my expression blank. Damn.

“You’re now to act as if you’re my girlfriend at all times. Even if we’re alone.”

I knew it. I click my tongue. “Is that right?”

“Yes. I don’t think you’re believable enough as my girlfriend while we’re in public. You need more practice.”

“Funny.” I put my plate on the nightstand with my mug. “You didn’t seem to think I needed practice before, and especially not when you were dragging me out of the room to fuck me last night.”

I stand and wrap the sheet around my body. I hate that he gets to me so easily.

I know what he’s doing. He’s playing a fucking game with me, and I should have seen it coming. I should have known the second he got his way and fucked me that everything would change.

Because that’s how it works, isn’t it? Sex is the game changer. It’s always been the game changer, and right now, it’s just changed the game into something I don’t want to play at all.

“Dayton, I believe this is where you agree to what I’m asking.”

“Oh, you’re asking now?” I hug the sheet to me. “Should I feel special?”

He rubs a hand down his face. “Stop being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? You wanna know what’s unreasonable, Aaron? Unreasonable is hiring your call girl ex to pretend to be your girlfriend for six weeks then fucking her and suddenly deciding she has to act as your girlfriend all the fucking time!” I put my hands on my hips. The sheet falls to my waist, exposing my breasts, and he draws in a sharp breath.

Almost immediately, the charge in the air changes from annoyance to sexual. It’s strong and it’s compelling, and as he takes a step closer, I move back one. No, no. Any closer and I’ll do something I’ll regret later.

“You’re right. It is unreasonable.”

“I’d believe you more if you said it to me instead of my tits.”

He fights a smile and looks at me. “It’s unreasonable and I don’t care.”

Ex-fucking-cuse me?

His long stride covers the kitchen in seconds and he drops his palms on the island in front of me. His eyes are hard, the lusty determination there making me swallow.

“I didn’t ask you for an answer, Dayton. It was a rhetorical question. I am changing the agreement. You will act like my girlfriend at all times. You’ll act that way until you drop your call girl-client bullshit.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ll act like it until you believe it.” He pushes off the island and grabs his tie, knotting it and sliding it into place. I grit my teeth and watch as he grabs a jacket and briefcase from the sofa.

He doesn’t look at me until the elevator doors open. When he does, his stare hits me with such an intensity that I almost step back.

“I’ve never been reasonable where you’re concerned, Dayton, and I’m not about to start now. Understand that. And the next time you say ‘fuck you’ to me, that’s exactly what you’ll be doing.”

He steps into the elevator and the doors close with a swish. I grab a clean mug from the side and throw it across the room. It collides with the door and smashes, white china falling over the carpet.

Fucking self-entitled, controlling, demanding fucking bastard.

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