I pushed all of the chips and all of the cash off the table, and then I picked her up and slid her onto it. She closed her legs, but I forced them open, appreciating the sight before me. It didn’t take much to get her underwear entirely off and dip my fingers back into her.
“I want you so badly, Jo. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you, but I bet you knew that. And I always get what I want.” She looked up at me with those big eyes of hers as I thrust my hand against her harder and harder. It didn’t take too much before she was shaking and clinging to the table, her body betraying her level of excitement.
“f*ck
,” she ground out, “Greyson, please.” It was a half plea and a half demand, and somehow it turned me on even more. She wasn’t afraid to challenge me. To tell me what she wanted. She wasn’t afraid to take.
And I liked that.
“What do you want, Jo?” I asked, grinning like the wolf I was.
She shook her head and just moaned.
“What do you want?” I asked again.
“I want to cum,” she said, finally, her voice so strong, so frustrated that it sent another shock of need down to my cock. “I want you to make me cum.”
“All you had to do was ask, Jo.” I bent down, and I kissed her while I thrust my fingers in and out of her even harder. Faster. She shook then, her body quaking against me while she came, her mouth groaning into mine.
I could tell from the way her p*ssy
tensed up that she was coming. It only made me want her even more.
I pulled off my shirt and looked at her as she lay on the table, her eyes cast up at me. f*ck
. She still wanted more. That was exactly what I was hoping for. I shucked off all my clothing, a wanton lust building inside of me, one I hadn’t planned for. This wasn’t cold or calculating life, my normal habits. No, this was so much hotter.
I spread her legs and thrust myself into her, my cock was so hot that I swore only she could help. But it only hurt worse when I entered her. I grabbed her hips and started thrusting myself inside of her, over and over again. I wanted to feel her wanted to feel more of her.
“f*ck
,” I growled out as I gripped her hard and inserted myself into her over and over again. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and her legs around my torso and I drove myself into her. She was so freaking beautiful. Every time she let out a moan I lost a little more of myself in her.
“You are so gorgeous,” I said as I kissed her. I could feel her shaking again. It wouldn’t be long now. For either of us.
I watched her cum a second time, felt her p*ssy
clench around my cock and it was enough to drive me over the edge. I came inside of her, oblivious to the rest of the world as I embraced the pleasure she was making me feel.
f*ck
.
After a minute, I stopped pulsating enough to slide out of her, and I sat down at a chair while she sat up and looked at me.
f*ck
, she was still so gorgeous. I wanted to take her into the hotel bed and sleep with her, cuddle up to her and smell her hair.
What the f*ck
? No. I almost felt sick. What in the hell was I thinking? I shook my head. This had to be a one time only deal. It had to be.
But it couldn’t. I wanted her again. Now. Already. f*ck
.
“Do you have something I could wear home?” she asked, as she looked at me, shame in her face.
Damn, I was the only one that wanted that. I swallowed. Hard.
“I don’t, but I’ll take off. You sleep here tonight, and I’ll have something in your size sent up to the room tomorrow.” I said it with about as much stoicism as I could muster and started searching for my clothing.
I needed something, a cold shower, an ice bath, a dunk in the bay, something to calm all of the things that were raging inside of me.
“See you at work,” I said as I left, my shirt barely on, my pants not yet buttoned. I couldn’t be around her another minute. I’d lose my cool, lose it all.
I had to get that ice-cold shower. Now.
Chapter Three
Joanna
The last thing I expected to see when I opened that door was Greyson Fitzgerald. But he was standing there, brooding right outside of my apartment. Why do I say brooding? Because his mouth downturns, his arms crossed, and he was leaning against the hallway wall. He was definitely brooding.
“Can I help you?” I asked, my eyes hard.
I didn’t want him to see that I was almost breathless. I didn’t want him to know that what he did in that hotel two nights ago was amazing.
That he got my dress size exactly right, again, when he sent over a much more sensible number in the morning.
And the last thing that I wanted him to know was that I was looking forward to seeing him again.
No, Greyson Fitzgerald was the kind of man who chewed people up and spit them out. That was exactly who he was. And to see him standing there, in front of me, brooding only made me angry.
“I don’t know, Jo. Can you help me?” he asked as he stepped into the room, occupying the space that I’d used to buffer myself from the rest of the world. He was right up against me, staring at me, his eyes bloodshot.