“Please,” I hear myself beg, “Please, now.”
Immediately, I feel the warm crown of his cock pushing against me, and in the next moment he plunges deep inside me, filling me so completely, I let out a sob of pure, undiluted pleasure.
He starts to move, his muscles bunching as he goes deeper with each successive thrust. He pulls me up to press my body against his, his hands at my breast and my stomach. I’m helpless against the pleasure of his thrusts, his grunts of pure animalistic pleasure making me even more aroused.
Heat spreads from between my legs, taking over my entire body and drowning me with pleasure. I surrender to the waves of another orgasm just as Landon’s body tightens, his muscles stiffening as he thrusts deep inside me, burying himself to the hilt, as he groans, coming inside me.
He collapses onto the chair behind us, taking me with him. He’s still inside me, still hard, even though he just came. He starts to stroke my shoulders, his hands moving over my skin in a slow caress. By the time he gets to my breasts, I’m already moving my hips, riding his still hard cock. He squeezes my breasts, groaning softly as I move up and down his length.
“You’re so hot,” he whispers.
“You’re so hard,” I reply breathlessly.
He sighs and drops his hands to my waist, gripping me on both sides and taking control of my movements. Unbelievable pleasure spreads through me, fed by the soft rocking of his hips, the strength with which he moves me up and down, and the low grunts from his lips.
We come at the same time, his cock rocking into me as my body tightens and explodes. He groans as he comes, hot, inside me, as my own pulsing body squeezes everything out of him.
Afterward, I end up sitting on his lap, his arm around me. I’m exhausted, about to fall asleep. “You said something about lunch,” I remind him.
“Yes,” I feel the deep rumble in his chest as he chuckles.
“I’m sleepy, but I’m also unbelievably hungry.”
His chuckle turns into a wry laugh. “Me too, for some reason.”
With his hands around my waist, he lifts me off his lap. Still sitting, he retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeds to wipe between my legs. He folds the hanky and then wipes himself before folding it again and putting it in his pocket.
I wrinkle my nose. “You’re not going to keep that as some sort of weird memento, are you?”
He grins, “I don’t need a memento when I have you,” he replies, pulling up my pants and redoing the clasp, while I button up my blouse. Then he gets up and adjusts his own clothes, going back to his usual, impeccable appearance almost immediately.
You only have me for a week, I want to remind him, already mourning the future end of our temporary arrangement. But I keep silent, helping him pack up my laptop so we can go to lunch. It’s when I pick my phone off the desk, right before we leave, that I see the missed calls, five of them, all from Jack.
“I CAN’T believe that you were taking such a huge trip and you only left a message!” my mom complains, and you know I hardly check my messages. “I’m sure you did it on purpose so you wouldn’t have to hear me complain about you missing Sunday lunch.”
I’m back at the Rosemont Royal after lunch with Landon, and while he’s gone back to the Gold Dust Hotel for another round of meetings or whatever, I have the rest of the afternoon to work on my article in the comfort of the suite. After a quick shower, I’d just settled at the desk in my room when my mother called. “It’s not a huge trip mom, and I’m sorry, but it was kind of sudden.” She’s right about the reason I only left a message, but I don’t tell her that.
My mom sighs. “At least it’s not a promotional article this time.”
“It’s not.” My mom has never hidden the fact that she doesn’t think much of the kind of articles I write. She’s made a career out of always been true to her art. While she thought I would have made a great editor at the Gilt Review, which she reads religiously, she doesn’t approve of the fact that I’ve spent two years ‘hacking’ out articles that are a little more than advert copy.
“Okay.” She pauses. “Laurie says you’re there with a man, some hotel owner.”
“Laurie talks too much,” I reply. “I’m really going to kill her someday for telling you everything I do.”
My mom ignores me as usual. “She was trying to assure me that you weren’t moping over Jack whatsisname. So is there a man?”
“Not in the way Laurie made it sound, mom. It’s really just work.”
“If you say so,” she replies, sounding unconvinced. “Your father says hi.”
“Hi dad,” I say
loudly.
“Oh, he can’t hear you. He’s on his rowing machine, working on those biceps,” I hear my father’s indistinct words, and then her breathy giggle. “Okay, bye dear,” she says. “Talk later.”
I put down the phone and start to work, expanding the outline for the article. I manage to shut everything else out of my mind, and get a few hours of work done before my phone rings again.