The spikes of pain caused by my thrusts were mixed with the pleasant throbbing of my walls and the sensation from my body expelling juices to welcome him in. Before I knew it, my attempts were rewarded by pure unadulterated bliss of my sex moving silky, up and down on his steely cock. Azmir reclined by scooting his lap forward allowing me to take full control and I was more than happy to oblige.
As much as I tried to calm my cries of ecstasy, the divine feel of him inside of me, his alluring scent, the utopian music, and our carnal behavior in the back of his limo with his driver just a few feet away sent me over the edge and in no time I felt my orgasm nearing. My strokes started to accelerate and I jolted forward taking him into my mouth. As my orgasmic spasms quickened I sucked on his lip. It was the only way I could keep from screaming. My back jerked as I exploded all over him. I needed this...I needed to give this to him. To demonstrate what he does to my body. To show him what it's like after going so long without his touch. In that moment no one else mattered, not Thompson and not Sebastian. It was just this man who had stolen my heart and had claimed my passion. A man who I felt emotions for that I couldn't describe. He had meant so much.
I felt his hands travel up to my neck, gently pushing my torso back, anchoring me as he pumped mercilessly into me, and I didn't resist. Azmir opened his mouth to release a silent cry plunging himself into me with mighty flexing of his hips prolonging my outer orbit experience until his orgasm ended its course and he was depleted.
We sat there for close to three minutes until he interrupted our respite. “You're dripping,” he whispered causing me to jump up, wincing as he separated from me. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out while I ascended from his lap, catching excess fluids.
“Here, use these.” He grabbed the cocktail napkins displayed near the stereo panel. Taking a few of them, he gently wiped my inner thighs until what was left of him on them was smeared and dried. As he instructed Ray to proceed to the marina, I cleaned my most private part and I could see Azmir in my peripheral touching his face.
“Do you have a mirror of some sort? You went a little H.A.M. on my lip.” His deep, baritone voice sounded all but afflicted. I was too languid to be as embarrassed as I would have typically been.
“I'm sorry.” My tone was indifferent as I attempted to straighten my gown. “Look in my purse. I should have a compact in there.”
The dress was pretty long and stubborn to my correction. I had only needed space to stand and allow it to fall into place. It didn't help that my body was overcome with exhaustion brought about, no doubt, by the writhing orgasm I'd just reveled in but also from the taxing past few days I'd had. Azmir's oversized firm and plush bed and Mr. Sandman was calling.
“What the fuck is this?” Azmir's voice was even but greatly commanding.
My head snapped over to him, startled by his audacity and begging his pardon.
He was holding a place card from the charity dinner, flipping it back and forward so that I could see both sides. The front of it displayed Azmir’s name scripted in fancy calligraphy, but it was crossed out by a pen and the back contained Brian Thompson’s name and from what I could deduced, his telephone number. I quickly figured out why Azmir’s place card wasn’t next to mine.
When did he do that? And how in the world did it end up in my purse? Common sense kicked in bringing my memory back.
“I left my purse at the bar next to Thompson when I went to the bathroom earlier.” My lungs contracted releasing massive amounts of hot air, taking my exasperation of this Thompson character with it.
“He's not an issue for you but he damn sure wants you.” Azmir threw my words back at me.
My eyes were pinned to his as my mouth hung open. I wasn't expecting his fury, he was beside himself with animosity for some insignificant guy that didn't stand a chance with me?
“Do you know how ridiculous this is?”
He scoffed, “Ridiculous? He’s bold enough to discard my place card and use it like a napkin in a bar to slide you his number...and slip it in your purse? That's ridiculous to you, Rayna?”