Chapter Five

Valen

Admittedly, I went a little wild after years chained to a boring sex life, and I do feel a little guilty about sex-imbibing so much at the start. The repercussions of my hogging didn’t touch down until I realized I wanted something real with that type of man—until I’d already made my dirty bed and was forced to lie in the come covered sheets.

My cell phone is pressed to my ear as I listen and take notes from my Virginia Beach client. He’s requesting a few changes. It’s business as usual and I’m able to multi-task by painting my toe nails simultaneously. “Yes, I understand,” I say, pausing on a brush stroke on my big toe.

“I’ll need you at the merger meeting. You’ll need to meet the in-house guy they’re bringing in. It’s two weeks away. You have plenty of time to make arrangements,” he says. My hand waivers and red polish gets on the top of my toe.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Sure. Of course. That won’t be a problem.” I can roll. It’s unexpected, but I’m always game for a trip to Virginia Beach. Food. Entertainment. A change of scenery is always a welcome distraction from the mundane qualities that blanket my world. Well, that was until Hutch came along and turned everything upside down.

He ends the call without saying goodbye. A fact that fucking irritates me given his preferences on how quickly I answer the call. Sloppily, I finish my toes and vow to get them fixed at a salon this weekend, and start researching my trip. My cell phone pings on the table next to my laptop. It’s a text from Hutch.

After our dinner date, he left cock hard and unsatisfied. In truth, I felt like Goliath. Had I given in to my desires Hutch would have left my house the next morning with empty balls and a bruised dick. My body responds to everything about him. His voice and his physique are equal aphrodisiacs. The fact he wants me for more than sex? Well, that makes my vagina drool more than anything else. The irony causes me confusion every time I take stock of our situation.

The text reads. “I’m back. I want to see you. The drive-in is playing a Madea movie marathon.”

Chuckling, I text him back. “Are you trying to kill me? That sounds like an awful idea.”

“The idea would be to not watch the movies,” he responds. “Obviously, that’s why I chose Madea.”

Double good news. He doesn’t have horrible taste in films and he wants to touch my lady bits. I can’t text back quickly enough. “Fucking yes.”

His response is fast. “You’re trying to kill me now.”

I laugh. “I’m not saying fucking. I’m texting it.”

“It works the same way, Valen.”

I prop my head up on one hand and get comfortable on the sofa. A new one, that doesn’t smell like Dean’s Old Spice body spray. “What time are you picking me up?”

“We’re going to eat first, so now?”

My doorbell rings. Shaking my head, I run my hand through my hair and pad over to my front door and swing it open. Hutch is standing there looking more delicious than he should. It’s a normal working day for me, so I’m wearing a white, see-through camisole and a pair of lacy white boy shorts. Completing my ensemble is a pair of sloth slippers. “Thank God I shaved. I told you I needed warning,” I say, motioning to my body.

Hutch bites his lip, eyes slanting as he appraises every inch of exposed skin. “It was a purposeful move. This was something I needed to see for myself,” he explains. “I’m most pleased I didn’t call first.” He picks his gaze up to meet mine. I’m barefaced and lion-maned. “You look beautiful.”

I take a step back. To let him in and also because I’m fucking shocked by the tenderness in his voice. “I’ll get ready?” I hike my thumb over my shoulder.

“You’ll kiss me first,” Hutch says, shutting the door with one hand and hooking his arm around my waist with the other. His lips work softly against mine, but his meaning is clear. He’s missed me while he was away on his work trip and he wants to take whatever he likes.

Running my hands up his muscled arms I let them stop when I’m bracing both sides of his face. Goosebumps prickle my skin and my head gets light. He groans into my mouth, and backs us further into the room. I keep my eyes closed and let the sensations flood me. Desire. Lust. Heart-thumping, panty melting, heat. Hutch cups my ass in his hands and picks me up.

I deepen the kiss as I hook my sloth clad feet around his back. We kiss like that, connected, but not really for a long time. He pulls away every so often to kiss my neck and ear and I return the sentiment trying to ignore his steel hard cock that is throbbing against my clit.

“I thought we were going to eat,” I say, when we’re panting and out of breath. He’s sitting on the arm of a chair and I’m still placed in prime position to receive his cock if he chooses to tear off my panties with his teeth.

Hutch buries his face in my neck. “I want to eat something all right. Food isn’t on the menu I’m tasting, either.”

Swallowing hard, I run my hands over his pecs and play with the button on his shirt. “You’re good with that tasting menu then?” I ask, my lips brushing his on every other word.”

“Some people are wine connoisseurs. I’m a refined pussy eater. You’re going to let me eat you until you’re dripping all over my mouth. Do you understand?” He pulls me against his cock and my pussy clenches with need.

“Yes. And then what will you do with me,” I ask, whispering in his ear, circling the edge with my tongue tip. “Tell me.”

Grabbing my ass a little harder, he leans back to meet my gaze. His eyes are blazing with fucking carnal depths. Let me get lost in that shit, please. “I’m going to take my cock,” he says, jutting his hips to drive the point home. “And fill your cunt. I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. Your sweet little cunt is going to ache for me. For only me. No one fucks like me, Valen. After you come around my cock you’ll never come around anything else again.”

“I think I just came. Right now,” I say, not letting my gaze flick from his. “My pussy is confused, I think. Are you always this…intense when you get home from a trip?” I ask, biting my lip as I wait for his reply.

He sets me on the floor, his chest still rising and falling. He looks like a warrior who just fought a grave battle. Maybe he killed a few people without even using a weapon. “Go get dressed before I slide those little white panties aside and fuck you over this couch. How’s that for intensity?”

“I’m in control. Got it?” I ask. “You don’t move a fucking muscle.” I tilt my head to the side.

He’s wary, but he nods his understanding.

We’re inches apart, but his hands are by his sides. I take his right hand in mine and guide it between my legs. The white, scanty lace is soaking wet. He’s watching his hand through narrowed eyes as I use his fingers to peel the fabric aside and use two fingers to stroke my clit.

His fingers twitch and I know he wants to take control. “Don’t move,” I say, although it comes out more like a moan, because his fingers are warm and the sensation of his bare skin on my pussy is heaven.

Closing my eyes, I pull his fingers closer and let one of them slide into my slick opening. I’m so ready to fuck—for his dick to pierce me and grind into me until I lose my mind to an orgasm so intense, I won’t be the same for hours after.

Hutch groans and adjusts his cock using his free hand. Then, as if he can’t control the impulse, he unbuttons and unzips his pants to let his huge, monster cock spring free. He strokes himself at the same pace as I’m fingering myself with. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?”

“The same thing you’re doing to me,” I gasp, breaths shallow as I use my own wetness to rub my clit once again. My head falls, my chin to my chest.

“Look at me or I take my fingers away,” he orders. I comply because I want this orgasm so badly I’d do anything he said. I’d sell my first born. I’d ask the garbage man to borrow his cock for a moment or two to have this orgasm. It’s the point of no return.

Hutch’s face is a vivid, complex mask of lust and control. I see the second he snaps. His teeth clenched he flips his hand so two fingers are inside me and his thumb is attacking my clit in a harried, blissful assault. His two fingers rub my g-spot at the same time and less than ten seconds later, I’m coming—a screaming, blubbering mess of weakened muscles and clenching pussy contractions, and tingling thighs and breathless surrender.

He leaves his fingers deep inside me as I come down from the furious high. “You moved a muscle,” I say, leaning my head against his chest. I peek down and see him stroking his cock.

“Because I wanted to feel yours around me. You’re tight. It’s going to feel amazing when this is inside you. When I fuck you you’re going to squirt all over me. Trust that,” Hutch says. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

A giggle escapes. “That only happens in pornos, Hutch.”

He lifts my chin with a wet, sex scented finger. “Go get dressed. I guess we’re going to make a squirting porno at Madea.” He zips his pants, a signal that he doesn’t want me to suck him off right now.

Clearing my throat, I say, “I think that would make her proud, and I can’t wait to see you try.” Backing away from him, I leave my panties pulled to the side. His gaze is focused there, and who am I to deprive the man of the sight of a wet vagina. He obviously has some energy to burn off after his work trip and I’m the lucky recipient.

His fists bunched by his sides, I turn to head into the hallway. “You’re not going to see me try. You’re going to feel it.”

Fuck me rotten. I’ve just entered a goddamn porno and he just called me his girlfriend.

I’ll die a happily sexed woman.