Turned out, you could.
I was in my pajamas because it was past nine, but as always, he didn’t seem to desire me more or less depending on my appearance. I pulled the loose shirt over my head and felt the draft harden my tits. Then I slipped the little shorts off my body before I hooked my thumbs into my panties.
With his arms stretched out on either side of himself and his sweatpants tight against his crotch, he watched me, his stomach as tight as it was when he stood upright.
When I was fully naked, I lowered myself to my knees in front of him and watched the way his eyes betrayed him with a jolt of excitement. A breath escaped his lips too, quick and not subtle. I grabbed on to his bottoms and pulled, getting them over his ass when he lifted his hips.
There it lay, anxious to delve deep inside my mouth.
I grabbed him by the base and got to work, feeling the thick pipe block my entire airway.
He could never just sit back and enjoy it. He always had to have a hand in something. His hand reached for my neck, and he directed me at the pace he wanted, as if I didn’t already know how he liked his dick sucked at this point.
When he was close, he steadied me.
With his dick out of my mouth, I could breathe, really draw air into my lungs. My hands clutched his shoulders as I straddled his hips. I lowered myself until my sex sat right on his shaft, feeling the wetness from my own mouth.
His hands immediately gripped my hips, his fingers reaching all the way to my ass to knead it. The silence was broken by the quiet breaths he took, his indication of excitement. He lifted me up as he pointed his head at my entrance.
I felt it push inside me, push past my tightness and become slowly sheathed by my wetness. Now I was used to his dick, ready for every sensation it gave me, craved it when I didn’t have it. I felt the breath leave my lungs as I gasped.
He let out a quiet moan when he was buried inside me, like the sensation was just as addictive for him. His big hands squeezed me hard, and he pushed up with his hips, inching a little deeper inside me.
My hand dug into his hair, and I pressed my lips to his, ignited by that heat that seared our closed mouths. I’d only kissed him once, and it was fire, fire that got me to melt into a puddle on the floor.
He abruptly turned his head away and ended the kiss.
My body turned still, unsure what I’d done to warrant his rejection.
“I told you I would only do it once.” His head turned back to me, his eyes still deep in arousal.
It took me a moment to understand what he was saying, to understand exactly what he’d meant that night.
He didn’t kiss whores.
And I was a whore.
It shouldn’t surprise me. Not the first time I’d heard that. It shouldn’t hurt me…but it did. I wasn’t sure why.
His eyes flicked back and forth between mine, his fingers still deep in my flesh.
As if I was paralyzed, I didn’t know what to do.
The moment was over—at least for me.
“It’s nothing personal,” he said quietly, trying to coax me back into the passion.
I forced my head back into the moment, to fulfill the job that was required of me. Because that’s what it was. Just a job…and nothing more. “Trust me… I know it’s not.”
Hugo knocked before he entered my room. “Mr. Beaufort would like you to join him for dinner.”
I continued to read. “I’m not hungry.”
“He didn’t ask if you were hungry. He didn’t ask you anything, actually. He told you to join him for dinner. Do so, or I’ll have to return, and we both know how unpleasant my company can be.” He walked out and shut the door.
I gave an annoyed sigh before I shut my book and headed downstairs. Cauldron was in the grand dining room, sitting at the head of the table with floral centerpieces down the middle like he was expecting to entertain. His eyes immediately moved to me when I entered the room, a glass of red wine in front of him.
I took the seat on his left and immediately snatched the bottle to fill my wineglass.
He stared at the side of my face, his eyes hot.
“What?” I asked, not looking at him.
“You’re angry.”
“Not angry.” I took a drink, recognizing the hint of citrus.
“I told you it wasn’t personal.”
“And that’s fine.”
“If it’s fine, why won’t you look at me?”
I forced my stare on him, feigning indifference. “There. Is that better?”
He held my gaze, a subtle shift in his eyes as he took in my appearance. “I’m not sure what you expect of me.”