The air cracks with the sting of his palm meeting my ass, and I’d like to say I’m indignant about him having the nerve to spank me, but my body zings with renewed arousal.
“Don’t open your mouth to argue, Sylvie. I could come right now and end all of it. Ride my dick.”
My body obeys his command before I can open my mouth and tell him to go fuck himself. When his mouth falls open in pleasure, I feel vindicated.
Not only is this different from the first time, but I watch as he starts to lose control, as his body begins the quick climb to the top of the peak we’re both looking to summit.
“Please,” I beg, too lost in my own rise to orgasm to feel guilty for needing just a little more from him.
One of the hands gripping my hip sweeps down my lower belly, and my skin tingles behind the trail he leaves on his way to my clit.
I see the need in his eyes when he bends his legs and pulls his knees up, my hands finding purchase there to assist in my rise and fall on his cock, and only then do those circles start on my slick flesh.
When his jaw clenches, I know he’s just as annoyed as I am that this feels so fucking good. I can also tell that his aggravation will never win out against his need to come.
He begins to meet each downward fall of my body with an upward thrust of his hips when my legs begin to tremble, threatening to give out before the job is done.
“Fucking now, Sylvie.”
It’s the sound of my name on his lips that takes me over the edge. It’s personal, as opposed to the babe he called me repeatedly that first night.
I’m already letting the anger seep inside of me at how something as simple as that is when he grunts his own release, pulsing inside of me with a force that would normally turn me on further.
Before I can pull myself away, I’m on my back with him hovering above me.
His head lowers as he ignores the press of my hands to his chest.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I manage before he can press his lips to mine.
Blinking down at me, he looks confused.
“We’ve broken too many rules already,” I whisper, praying that he thinks I’m referring to the one-night-only rules because heaven help me if he realizes there’s also a problem with the no-expectations part.
He nods in understanding before falling to bed beside me. His hand stays locked on my thigh as if he’s needing to ground himself somehow.
“Give me a few minutes,” he says as he pulls off the condom and knots the end.
When he tosses it over the edge of the bed, it doesn’t have the same savage appeal that it did that first night.
Then, I let myself believe that he was just so exhausted from the pleasure I gave him that he didn’t have the strength to move.
Then, a slow smile spread across my face because I saw it as a challenge I needed to rise to. If he said a few minutes, I just knew I could get him hard again in under a minute.
Fun fact—it didn’t even take that long.
Right now?
His words are just another reminder that cookie-cutter sex is his thing, and I get the whole if there’s nothing wrong with it why change aspect of it, but it’s turning out to be more of a slap in the face than anything else.
“Once was enough for me. Thanks,” I say as I climb out of bed and disappear into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind me this time.
Chapter 16
Spade
I’ve never had a weirder morning after in my life.
At the clubhouse, I simply slam my bedroom door and head to the kitchen. If the woman in my bed follows the rules we agreed to the night before, she’ll either say a quick goodbye or slink out the front door.