"You have to decide what you think of me at some point, right? Shouldn't you have as much information as possible?" He gave me a small, warm smile. I felt like I was being given his best business pitch. It was working. Finally, I nodded.
"I only have an hour or so," I said.
"No problem. I drive fast and I cook fast," he said, and stood up.
“I already know you drive fast,” I said with a heavy note of sarcasm.
True to that statement, we were at his place in 10 minutes and there was a grilled chicken sandwich sitting in front of me in 20. I'd mostly sat quietly and watched as he'd buzzed around the kitchen. I wondered what it would be like to come home to him, and chat about our days at work as he made dinner. I shook my head to get rid of that thought. That wasn't why I was here.
The sandwich was delicious, though. I couldn't help but make a noise of approval as I bit into it. He beamed at me, proud of his work. God, he was very charming like this. I wanted to let myself be charmed, but it all seemed too good to be true.
I decided the best plan was to eat quickly and leave. I finished the sandwich and stood up, moving toward the door.
"Well, thanks for lunch. I have to..."
"Wait, don't go yet," he said, and reached out to grab my wrist gently. I turned at his touch, and found myself looking into his pleading eyes. His fingers were hot on my skin. I thought about what I'd told Dani, about how it felt impossible not to give him what he wanted.
Alarm bells were ringing in the back of my mind, telling me to shake off his hand and leave.
I didn't. I just stood there, letting him hold onto my arm. And when he took a step closer, I still didn't leave. I let him come closer, and I let him bend his head toward mine.
His lips hovering above mine, he murmured, "I didn't ask you here for this."
"I didn't come here for this," I replied. And then our lips met.
That night in his hotel room had been a slow burn. This was an explosion. It was like we'd been waiting to touch one another since then, like we'd built up six long years of desire.
As he pushed me up against the kitchen wall and the kiss intensified, the warning bells in my head gave one last, desperate ring. Then he slid his hand into my pants, and they were silenced.
I'd had a few short relationships over the years, and the occasional one-night stand, but it hadn't been since our night together that I'd been so hot for someone. The minute his hand made its way between my legs I gasped with pleasure and arched against him. He pressed against my stomach with his free hand, pinning me back against the wall, so all I could do was squirm as he continued teasing me with his fingers.
I unbuttoned my shirt and practically tore it off, my fingers already fumbling with the clasp of my bra. Once it was off, he moved his mouth to my breasts, first one, then the other. As he sucked gently on my nipple, he slipped a finger inside me. I undid my pants and pushed them to the floor so he could move his hand more freely. He took advantage of this by putting another finger inside me and circling my clit with his thumb. I moaned. He sucked harder on my nipple, and I practically screamed.
"Cassius," I gasped. He stopped. I'd never said his name that night. I didn’t know his name that night. He looked up at me, his eyes bright with lust.
"Deira," he said, his voice deep like a growl. I pushed him back, and he stopped touching me, letting his hands fall to his sides. I stepped forward, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Then I undid his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His cock was obviously hard already, swollen in his underwear, and I took those off, as well. He just stood there, watching as I undressed him, though I could feel the tension in his body. He was breathing hard, and as I freed his erection his breath grew even more ragged, and his arms twitched, like he wanted to grab me in his arms. But he didn't. He was waiting. I remembered something he said in his letter, "I'll let you make the first move."
I stepped back and surveyed him in all his naked glory. This was a terrible idea, but it was too late now, so I was going to make the most of it. I said his name again.
"Cassius."
"Deira," he said, at once pleading and yet almost aggressive with desire. I stepped up to him and whispered in his ear. "Fuck me over the counter. Make me come."
And then he did grab me, turning me roughly just as I knew he would, and I was suddenly bent over the counter as he tore my underwear down. He put his dick against me and then paused. I shivered with anticipation and, when he still didn't enter me, a small moan escaped my lips. He chuckled and put his hands on my hips as he thrust into me.
He felt so good. It was like he knew what I wanted. I pressed my hands into the counter and cried out. He found a rhythm and I started moving with him, pushing back a little every time he thrust forward. He grabbed my elbows and pulled me up, changing the angle of his thrusts and making my whole body shake.
"More," I gasped. "Harder." He pulled me to his chest and wrapped an arm around me to keep me there. His other hand found my clit again and I felt waves of pleasure start pulsing through my body.
"Deira," he rumbled in my ear, the sound of my name on his lips only increasing my arousal, "are you close?"
"So close," I gasped.
"Me, too," he murmured. I reached up and grabbed his arm, digging my nails into his skin as the orgasm overtook me. He grunted and made one last final thrust, and for a moment the whole world fell away as the two of us reached climax together.
Spent, we fell forward onto the counter, his arm still around me, my back pressed into his chest.
"Deira," he murmured into my ear, and then kissed my neck.