Me.
Just me.
I walk into the bathroom and take a deep breath before pulling his T-shirt off my body and shoving his shorts off. I step toward the shower, but then stop, remembering what happened on the balcony.
I stare at his shoulders and take in the strength in them. Then I allow my eyes to travel down his strong back and watch his muscles work as he rubs his hands through his hair. His waist tapers in a—dear God, his muscular ass is beautiful.
I want him.
I take a deep breath and knock on the tile. He looks over his shoulder.
I open my mouth, planning to say something incredibly sexy, but nothing comes out.
His eyes narrow, his jaw flexes, and he runs his hand down his face, ridding it of the excess water. His eyes run from my toes slowly up my body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his eyes meet mine, he takes in a deep breath and licks his lips.
“You need my cock?”
“I need you,” I say with a tremble in my voice as I watch him grip his cock and stroke slowly up and down.
“You need my cock.” He groans.
I nod, watching him.
“Get in here.”
I do.
“Foot on the stone bench.” His voice is thick with desire and demanding.
I obey.
“Show me how you touch yourself.”
I look at him, not moving.
“Now.”
I slide my hand between my legs and rub my fingers between my sensitive lips.
“That’s it, angel,” he hisses, and I continue. “I want your finger in your pussy. Spread your legs wider.”
I do.
“How does it feel, angel?” His hand pumps his cock.
“I want you,” I whisper.
“Say it louder.”
“I want you,” I repeat more loudly.
He releases his cock, grips my hips, lifts me up, lines his wide head up against my pussy, pushing me against the tiled wall, and without warning, he slams into me fully.
“You can’t come in here like that,” he hisses. “I can’t control myself.” He pulls out and slams back in. He groans against my neck as he swivels his hips, stretching me.
“Then don’t,” I pant.
He slams in and then out. “I can’t go easy.” He pulls out then slams in again. “I won’t go easy.” He does it again. “Get there.” Out and in. “Now, dammit.”
“Oh, God,” I cry as his pace increases and his thrusts become more powerful. My body explodes in a surge of pleasurable waves as he pulls out and comes on my inner thigh.
When I walk out of his bedroom, he is putting broccoli on a plate.
He glances up. “Didn’t you see the bag?” he asks, referring to the bag of my clothes he brought over.
“Yes,” I say, walking toward him wearing a different pair of his boxers and another of his T-shirts.
“Nothing you like?”
“I wanted to wear yours.”
He stops cutting up the steak, looks over at me, and nods.
A few minutes later, we sit across from each other, our eyes connected as we eat. He devours his steak while I pick at mine. I’m not hungry for food. I’m hungry for him.
“Not good?” he asks before taking another bite of his steak.
“It is.”
“Not hungry?” he asks after wiping his mouth.
“Starving,” I answer, looking away. “I’ve been starving for years.”
“Then eat, angel.”
I look up at him. “Not for food.”
His jaw clenches, his eyes narrow, and his nostrils flare. “Two more bites . . . please, Lo.”
He eats fast, and I do as he asks. He then gets up quickly, walks behind me, and pulls out my chair. I stand up, and he turns me toward him and lifts me.
“I’m gonna feed you my cock all night long.”
He walks quickly toward the couch, but as soon as my ass hits the leather, someone knocks on the door.
He grabs the blanket and hands it to me. “Cover up.”
I watch him open the door without looking through the peephole. “Perfect timing.” He holds the door open wide, and two men walk in carrying a mattress. “Right in there.”
Twenty minutes later, the two men leave with the mattress his ex destroyed.
I get up, lock the door behind them, and turn to see Jason leaning against the doorjamb.
“Get in here.”
I do.
Chapter Sixteen
Sleeping with her next to me is something unlike what I shared with Missy. The way she fits beside me, the way she relaxes and rests, calms the beast inside me. Today, I have to work and so does she.
My alarm goes off, and I get up quietly, sliding out from under her as I silence the damn thing. Socks and Boots look up at me lazily from their cozy corner at the end of the bed, and I look back at them, thinking, When the hell did I become a cat man?
I have lots of love for pussy. I love a variety of pussy: dark pussy, light pussy, even multicolored, tattooed pussy. I have had smooth pussy and fuzzy pussy, but never did I think I would get up in the morning and worry about feeding pussy rather than feasting on pussy.