“No, I’m not.” Before I can argue, he takes a couple of steps toward me, and I can see his features better. See that he’s sincere. “I’m waiting for you.”
Time bends then. The seconds that bring me from where I am to where he is pass without me noticing them. One moment I’m standing on my own, the next, I’m in his arms, my l*ps seeking his like it’s the only source of oxygen. I think it must be the same for him, because his mouth crashes against mine, desperate and greedy, his teeth clashing against mine in his haste to consume me.
“One time,” I say, breathlessly, when he finally lets me up for air.
“One time,” he agrees. He pushes me backward until I’m against the wall. “One time, and it’s out of our system.”
“That’s all we need. One time.” The lie feels believable when his hands are on me. One time, and we can close the door on this desire. One time, and I can go back to living for my career. Living for whatever it was that I lived for before Hadrian.
“One time,” he repeats, the final syllable turning into a m**n as I stroke my palm over the thick outline of his c**k. He reciprocates, shoving his hand down my pants and past the band of my pa**ies, quickly finding my c**t and applying just the right p**ssure with his thumb to make me pant like a bitch in heat. His fi**gers crawl lower, sliding into my w*t p**sy like a magnetic key. Like he can’t resist putting them inside me, even if he wanted to, and once inside, they curl perfectly to r*b against a magic spot that has my knees buckling.
“This is mine,” he says, and I know it’s just sex talk, but I love it. Love being claimed by his hand and his mouth, even if the claim expires after this one momentary time. “This belongs to me.”
I whimper as his t***ue sl*ps past my l*ps, mimicking the ministrations of his fi**gers. Showing me what he’s planning to do to me with his c**k. Making me so desperate with anticipation that all I can do is cling onto the lapels of his jacket and beg. “Please, Hadrian. Please take what’s yours.”
“You think I need your permission?” He leans in to bite my upper l*p, and I reach for his belt, only to have my hands shoved away. His gaze is hooded and challenging when it meets mine, but I’m impatient and so full of want, and so I reach for him again.
This time he grabs my wrists and draws them over my head, pinning them to the wall with one hand. My p**sy feels instantly empty. Emptier than it had before he fi**gered me, and I let out a cry of frustration. “Please.” Tears form in the corners of my eyes.
He answers with another punishing k**s, this time rocking his h*ps against mine as our l*ps dance together. I can feel the whole length of him against my lower belly. So close to where I want him, but an inch too far away, even when I rise up on my tiptoes.
I don’t realize he’s as frustrated as I am until he releases my hands with a growl, and then immediately unbuckles my pants and pulls them down, along with my thong, maneuvering both over my shoes so that, below my waist, I’m naked, except for my heels.
It feels a bit strange to be fully clothed otherwise, complete with my two chunky necklaces and my hair still in a chignon, but I don’t care enough to undress any further. My focus is singularly on Hadrian’s c**k. On getting it inside of me as fast as possible.
Without discussion, he hands me a condom from his jacket pocket, and I rip through the wr*pper with my teeth while he lowers his pants. I have every intention of putting it on for him, but as soon as his c**k springs out, all thick and milky at its head, I’m distracted by its size.
I’ve fantasized about having that monster inside of me on more than one occasion, but since I never truly believed it would happen, I’m only now understanding what’s about to happen. What I’m about to feel. “That’s…a lot.”
“You’re just now realizing this?” Hadrian smirks then snatches the condom from my hand and rolls it down his very proud c**k. Then he pushes my chin up with his knuckles, forcing my eyes from his prize appendage to his. “It will fit. I promise.”
“Could you maybe hurry up and prove it?”
He chuckles as he brings his hands under my th**hs and lifts me, using the wall as a brace against my back. I wr*p my legs around him automatically, and shiver when I feel his ridge slide against my seam. He tilts his pelvis back, and I’m about to help him notch the tip up to my hole, but he doesn’t seem to need the help, because next thing I know, he drives forward and th**sts inside.
“Oh my God.” Tiny fireworks explode across my nervous system. Almost like a mini orgasm, from one th**st. One very snug th**st. He’s enormous, filling me so tightly, I have to take a breath to help him wiggle the rest of the way in.
“Jesus, Brystin, you’re so f**king tight around me.” His words are tortured, like he’s as affected as I am. Like it’s taking all his strength not to hold still and let me stretch around him.
I’m not even sure he’s all the way seated before he gives up trying. “Goddammit,” he says, and then he’s th**sting in again, again, again, ramming into me with an energy I haven’t seen in a partner for years.
“This f**king cunt,” he says as he plows into me. “This beautiful f**king cunt…I thought I could resist it, but it owns me. f**king owns me.”
I tighten my legs around him, feeling like I’m the one owned. In my head, I tell him that, but I don’t have the ability to say the words out loud. A string of incomprehensible syllables leaks from my mouth, instead, blending with the slap, slap, slap of our th**hs. I’m vaguely aware that I’m not being that quiet, that there is a whole restaurant full of people—important people, people I know, my husband—outside the room, that the doors next to us are very much unlocked.
Still, I can’t keep the pleasure to myself. Every nerve ending is lit. My whole body is a tingling mass of sensation, and euphoria has taken over my brain space. Even the bite of Hadrian’s fi**gers digging into my th**hs to hold me up feels pleasurable, though I’m sure there will be bruises later. Bruises I know that I’ll stand before my mirror trying to capture with a photograph so I can have a souvenir.
It’s soon—too soon—before my p**sy is clenching and impeding Hadrian’s tempo. “Don’t you dare slow me down,” he orders. “If you’re going to try to push me out, then you don’t get to come, Brystin. Not until I say you can.”
“I don’t think I can stop,” I say. Or try to say. It comes out as a series of ahs and m**ns.
“Brystin.” His warning is sharp and through gritted teeth, but it’s my orgasm controlling me now, and it rolls over me with tsunami force, paralyzing me momentarily before sending waves of bliss through my torso and limbs until I’m a trembling leaf in a storm.
Cursing, Hadrian waits until my body lets him in again, then stabs into me with a frenetic speed, chasing his own orgasm, which comes soon afterward, but not so soon that I’m not recovered enough to watch his features as he does.
His face tenses up, his color seeming to darken, even in the weak light. Then his mouth parts and a groan that might be the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard escapes.
Afterward, he barely takes a second to catch his breath before dropping my legs to the ground, cuffing my throat with his hand, and k**sing me mercilessly. His mouth slows as my heart rate settles, as though he’s timing it with my pulse under his palm, and when it doesn’t feel like I’ve just ran a race anymore, he slowly pulls back, leaning his forehead against mine.
We stand like that, wordlessly breathing in tandem, and I wait for the shame to descend. For the moment that I feel inclined to mutter excuses and apologies and scurry to dress and depart.
It doesn’t come.
Finally, I dare to speak. “By one time we meant like one set of times, right?”
Hadrian is already nodding his head as he bends to get my pants. “We’re going to my office now because I most definitely have to f**k you again.”
Hadrian POV
As soon as we walk into my office, I know this is the wrong place to bring her. I spend so much time here, it’s more of a second home more than Adeline is. One time to f**k her—one session of times—and this fifteen hundred square foot room will be marked with her. How will I ever be able to be productive again with her permeating the space?
But taking her to my penthouse is an even worse idea. Not just because of the paparazzi that might see us entering together or her leaving in the morning, but because it’s my one safe spot. A place where I can be without the world, and its conflicts. It was a stupid enough choice to bring her there when she was drunk. I barely slept that night, watching her. Memorizing every twitch of her sleeping form. Placing ghost k**ses on the features of her face.
My home is already haunted enough.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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