Page 40 of The Influencer

I groan as the velvety walls of him fit themselves around me like a hot, slick fist. “Fuck,” I gasp.

At the same time, his back bows off the bed and he whimpers again. “Oh my God…”

I draw back, wanting to feel that exact same thing again. All my thoughts tumble away, leaving me only with the sensation of his tight walls squeezing my cock. I rock back and forth, going maddeningly slow as an urge builds at the base of my spine to pound him all the way into the headboard. Because he can take a lot.

I’m just not sure how much I can take. Nothing’s ever felt this good. Not my first time. Not the best orgasm I ever had, not even the day I opened the tattoo shop when I thought no feeling could be better than that.

This, though… is.

“Mmm....Ash…your dick… Fuck.”

“Just tell me,” I whisper—talking might help, because I am too fucking close.

“It’s—it’s—” he jerks himself faster, his hand slicking up his cock at a frantic pace. “Fucking incredible.”

I hug his thighs to my shoulders and pound harder and deeper, biting and sucking on the inside of his knee while I revel in the simple, sacred act of fucking. I swear to God, I’ll never take sex for granted again. If I’d known it would be this good, I would have paid five grand. Shit.

As he jacks himself off, he covers his face with his other hand, the golden waves of his hair scattering, and a long, helpless moan escaping him. I put my own ass into it, driving to the hilt with harsh, repetitive thuds, lighting up the piercings on my sac and making my balls fucking vibrate. His moan breaks into rough grunts each time our nuts slap.

“I’m—so—close—” he says.

I settle in deep and work his hole with a grind of my hips that has me losing my damn mind it feels so good.

He arches his neck. “God, I’m gonna come. Asher. Move my skirt—fuck—I’m gonna?—”

I don’t have the hands or the desire to move his pretty satin skirt out of the way—I much prefer to watch the spray of semen staining it in thick spurts as he cries out and his ass spasms around my cock. It’s the biggest turn on—and I’m not sure what’s the best part. The cum, the shocked, ecstatic noises he’s making, or the way his hips continue to move with mine, sending me straight to the edge and over it.

I come so fucking hard that I go deaf and blind for more than a few seconds. My balls unload eighteen months’ worth of seed in one mind-blowing shot that moves up every inch of my dick until the warmth explodes inside him, filling the condom and stealing my breath right out of my chest. “Jesus Fucking Christ!”

I freeze at the top of my stroke and let the cum keep coming. It feels endless, and also like it’s draining my life force, which, I mean—I fully deserve. Letting go of his legs, my vision returns to the sweet sight of him splayed and limp beneath me, my cock still wedged in his tight hole.

The cloying scent of sex fills the space between us. I blink until I can see clearly again. He’s still got his hand on his face, and his semi-hard pink cock rests against his bare, milky white thigh. He looks as wrecked as I feel.

It all sort of hits me in a rush of unwelcome awareness. I just cheated on Olivia. I just fucked a man. I just paid for sex.

No wonder he won’t even look at me.

I ease out of him and slide off the condom, staring at his hole the entire time, and how used it looks now, wide and open, like it’s inviting me back inside, but I’m guessing that would cost me, and I think I may have already sold my soul tonight. I don’t know why, but I reach for his skirt, using it to cover him back up. Lead me not into temptation…

Getting up from the bed, I tie off the condom, grab my shorts, and spot the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I make myself meet my own eyes in the mirror. What. The. Fuck?

The only thing out of order on the outside is my hair, which I immediately take down and put back up, tidying up the fallen strands, still damp from my shower at the gym. I pull on my shorts and splash some cold water on my flushed face. The guilt hasn’t fully set in yet. I think I’m still in denial. And I’ve also got to go back out there, face Jade, and figure out how to get out of here with at least a shred of my dignity intact.

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I dropped any dignity at the door, and he knows it as well as I do.

He’s sitting up in bed when I emerge from the bathroom, and he’s pulled a throw blanket over his shoulders. He’s got his cheek propped on a knee, face turned toward me.

“You okay?” he asks his gaze holding some slight concern.

“I’m good,” I say. “You?”

“Well, I feel sort of shitty.”

I freeze. I think even my heart freezes.

“I have to apologize for assuming you’d be terrible in bed. And I hate apologizing.”

I can’t do anything but blink. “Thank you?”

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