“So. Do. You. Still. Want. Me. In. The. Other. Bed?” he grunted with each determined bang.
“No!” I gasped. He was hitting my G-spot repeatedly. I was falling apart at the seams with ecstasy.
A triumphant smile splayed on his face. “That’s what I thought.”
He picked up his pace with each long, hard stroke. I gripped his perfect buns of steel, pressing them forward with his thrusts, though, trust me, assistance was the last thing he needed. I just needed something to hold on to—to keep me from leaving this planet. Whimpering and rocking with him, I clenched my eyes. Sparks were flying in my head as my core prepared to burst with out of this world pleasure. Oh, God! I was not going to last much longer.
“Gloria, open your eyes. I want you to watch me come.”
I did as he asked and drank in the intensity that lusted on his sweat-drenched face. His half-moon eyes sucked me in and his luscious lips parted with pants of desire. His pulsating cock let me know he was on the verge.
“Now!” he shouted. He let out a loud savage sound from deep inside him and arched his head. We climaxed together. His cock exploded while my core lit up like a disco with strobing bright colors. The song “Gloria” played in my head. Oh, oh, oh, calling Gloria.
“Oh, Gloria. That was fucking amazing.”
Yes, it was. It was fucking amazing.
Catching his breath, he sunk his head into the thick fold of my cleavage. I wrapped one arm around his sweat-soaked body and threaded the fingers of the other through his damp, tousled locks. Closing my eyes, I hummed the melody of “Gloria.” All the voices in my head were calling his name.
Repositioned on my back, my head resting on his rock-hard chest, I asked him something that had been on my mind. “Mr. Zander, are you into the whole BDSM lifestyle?”
He chuckled. “No, In fact, I’m not really a dom.”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” His controlling behavior mirrored that of many of the erotic book boyfriends I had.
“My shrink says I’m a just a creative control freak with kinky tendencies.”
Semantics.
“Do you get off on physically hurting women?” My heartbeat accelerated going into this dangerous territory. Given that his mother had destroyed his beloved father, the psychologist in me thought it was likely though he’d never physically harmed me.
“Whatever way you call it, I’m strictly BD without the SM.” He planted a tender kiss on my cheek. “Besides, angel, you’re like the lace you wear. Beautiful and fragile, easily torn. I could never hurt you.”
Inwardly, I heaved a sigh of relief. I wasn’t sure I could put up with the inflicted pain I’d read about in those BDSM novels. I’d already had enough emotional and physical pain in my life. The lace analogy struck a deep chord inside me.
He played with my braid. “So I assume after that mind-blowing fuck it’s okay for me to sleep with you.” A statement not a question.
“Don’t assume anything.” Mr. Presumptuous! I had to show him that I had some power. That he couldn’t always fuck me into submission.
We had a stare-off. His intense denim blues and cocky half smile were wearing me down. God, he was sexy and beautiful! My core was buzzing. I wanted him all over me again. Finally, before I caved in, I said, “If you don’t leave this bed, I will.”
“You’re a tough client.” With a roll of his eyes, he climbed out of the bed and nestled into the other one to my left. He turned off the overhead light between us.
“Sweet dreams, Ms. Long.”
“Sweet dreams, Mr. Zander,” I mimicked before drifting off.
I’m running through a black tunnel. I can see nothing in front of me, nothing behind me. My legs propel me as fast as they can; my lungs burn. My heavy breaths and footsteps pierce the darkness. I can’t let him find me. I can’t! Suddenly, footsteps thunder behind me. I steal a glance backward; I see nothing, but the footsteps are getting louder and faster; they’re gaining on me. I try to run faster, but my legs won’t let me.
“Nobody steals from Boris Borofsky!” The accented voice booms behind me. “You will pay!”
“No!” I scream silently. I must escape. Oh God, where is the light? Where is the end? Will I always be on the run?
A deafening blast echoes in the endless chamber of darkness. And then another. A bolt of white light scorches through my body. Red-hot liquid streams down my flesh. I keep running. I must keep running! I can never stop running! Oh the pain!
Screaming, I bolted to an upright position. The hot liquid in my dream was now a rush of cold sweat, and it was pouring out of every crevice of my quaking body. Two strong arms wrapped around my drenched torso and pulled me against a slab of rippled, warm flesh.