And yet, he’s bunching up the back of my dress. Turning my head to look at him, his eyes are swimming with desire and something darker. He connects our lips and pushes his tongue into my mouth at the same time his finger pushes into me. Oh, god. I’m already so aroused, it’s almost embarrassing. However, his erection presses into my exposed ass through the fabric of his pants.
As I grind back into him, Emanuel’s fingers unlace the back of the dress. His other hand leaves my sex to grope my breasts once the fabric is removed from my top. The dress drops to the floor and we move to the side, needing to avoid the pins. I’m naked and dizzy with desire, but I know we don’t have much time. Turning around, I eye him before he kisses me but I rip away from him and drop down. I want to return the favor from the other week.
Undoing his pants just enough to spring free his cock, I wrap my lips around the head and look up to him. Emanuel’s biting down on his lip with one arm propped against the wall as he watches me. My tongue swirls and I take more of him into my mouth. Seeing him struggling to stay silent eggs me on. However, as I start to bob my head, he carefully pulls himself away from me.
Before I can so much as throw him a quizzical glance, he turns me around and positions my back and hips. Then, in the span of just a couple seconds, he clamps a hand over my mouth and pushes his member into me. Honestly, it’s a good thing he muffled my mouth. Emanuel’s fucking me hard and fast, and it’s incredibly intense. My body longs to cry out in pleasure, to tackle him and take charge, but that would make noise. Hell, he’s not even able to thrust all the way into me because skin smacking against skin would be too much noise.
I thought last time made me feel alive. It has nothing on this. The danger of anyone hearing us, of someone knocking on the door— I'm edging on an orgasm already, the thought propelling me to it. I bite down on his hand and when he flexes his hold, I’m not sure what comes over me, but I wrap my lips around his index finger. Tilting my head enough to the side to look him in the eye, I suck on the finger the way I had planned on doing to his member.
Emanuel’s mouth hangs open slightly from arousal. An arm is snaking around my hip and his hand between my legs. He rubs at my sensitive bud with precision and speed. I suck harder on his finger, my teeth lightly grazing the skin. He hunches forward and bites down on my neck. The most intense orgasm of my life is crashing down over me; I reach backward and hold onto his arms, my nails scratching at him.
The more his hips pump into me, the larger the tidal wave of bliss builds within me. It isn’t until he finally thrusts himself so deep inside me that my front is pressed into the wall, and starts grinding into me, that I reach the pinnacle of the throes of pleasure. His movements become jagged, and then stop completely. Then, he removes himself from me.
As we start to gather our clothes, I realize that the entire encounter had happened in the span of like, ten minutes. Likely a bit too long for him to be just helping with my dress, but I don’t think it’s an amount of time that would raise concern either.
“So, when am I due for another fitting?” I ask, my voice cheerful and at a regular volume.
He shrugs, fixing his tie. “A week or two before the wedding is customary.”
He’s not even looking at me and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable about it. What is going on with him? Once I’m dressed, I step over to him and place a gentle hand on his chest. With cold, distant eyes, he looks at me. “Are you alright?” I whisper.
“I’m fine,” he mutters and then sniffs.
“You seem… off. I mean, I don’t really know you but—”
“But, what?” he asks in a low murmur. His eyes remain on me. “You don’t know me, and you won’t. This is just sex, Wren. I thought that was clear.”
I move back a step, a crease forming between my brows. “No, that wasn’t clear. When we talked before you said you were open to more and wanted to see where things went.”
“Haven’t you ever heard men say crazy things during post-sex bliss?” he snorts.
I stare him, my mouth gape from shock. “I…” but the rest of my words die. Why should I bother? If he feels like this, there’s nothing I can do about it. I need to just go. “Jackass,” I mutter to him before finally leaving the dressing room. I can’t believe him.