Page 10 of Unstitch

It’s not a lie. I have had a great time with her. There’s a reason I only fool around with professional women: they get it. The last thing I need is some little yoga queen pouting in my bed and teasing my cock at five-thirty in the morning when I have to go to work and she wants to go get juice together.

Women like Claudia are exactly like me. Hungry, relentless, and driven as fuck. The dinner dates are full of smart, witty conversation. The sex is hot. Uninhibited. And, most importantly, efficient. Claudia has never stayed over. We fuck, and she goes home to her apartment across the park and does a couple more hours of work before she retires.

Our arrangement has been perfect, as have my arrangements with other, similar women over the past eight years. If I can find something similarly mutually convenient in London, I’ll absolutely take advantage.

If not, I’ll put my head down and work.

She surveys me through her tears and nods sadly. ‘Yeah. I just—I dunno. You’re the whole package, you know? Those freaking eyes. And you have that whole fancy, well-mannered British thing going on… You’re smart, as well as being super hot. And nice. I don’t think you realise how rare that all is.’

I’m genuinely touched by her words, even if they don’t quite hit me as hard as they should. ‘I’ll miss you,’ I tell her with a sincerity I don’t feel, because she’s a beautiful, impressive woman, and if I can’t give her a little morale boost before I walk away without a backwards glance, then what kind of a man am I?

She nods, like she needed to hear it, needed a breadcrumb of validation from me that she could shore up for when I’ve gone, and I see her visibly pull herself together, blinking away her tears.

‘When you say enjoy our last night,’ she says now, placing her hands on my chest over my button-down, ‘what were you thinking, exactly?’

I grin and move my hands down her face. Down the sides of her neck. I brush the straps of her stunning, intricate bra off her shoulders, enjoying the smoothness of her skin under my palms as I let my eyes drop to her nipples, small and pinky-brown and hard as pebbles through the delicate lace of her bra. Claudia is queen of the lingerie game.

‘I was thinking,’ I murmur, my voice low, ‘that we give each other a few memories to get off to when we’re alone in our beds next week. What do you think?’

She takes in a shuddery breath. ‘Yeah. That sounds good.’

‘Excellent.’ I drop my lips to her shoulder and kiss her there. ‘Glad we’re on the same page,’ I murmur as I get to my knees in front of her.

8

DEX

Ilove this part. I really do. A beautiful, sophisticated, lingerie-clad woman, laid out on my kitchen island for me to sample. I fucking love eating pussy. And Claudia doesn’t disappoint. I hook my thumb into the thin strip of lace that passes for her thong and tug it to one side, exposing her lovely, bare centre.

‘Would you look at that,’ I murmur. ‘All nice and wet for me.’

She shudders and leans back, bracing herself on her palms. My viewpoint as I glance up at her is wonderful. Flat stomach. Smooth olive skin. Perfectly pert breasts encased in exquisite lace. Long, dark hair, flawlessly blown out, caressing her skin. I’m a lucky guy.

Fuck, she tastes like sin.

Depraved, carnal, mortal sin.

The kind of sin you don’t come back from.

The kind of sin that makes you turn your back on those pearly gates quicker than you can say damnation.

Every single religious teaching that every single adult, from the Benedictine monks who taught me at Ampleforth to my own fucking father, has rammed down my throat swims through my aroused brain like a taunting, intoxicating sickness as I slice through her slick centre with my tongue. Back to front. Jesus.

I planned to go slow. To tease her, wind her higher.

Not happening.

Instead, I go for it. Maybe it’s the knowledge that this is our last time together. The perverse monster in me wants to leave my mark on her. Give her something to remember me by.

I get stuck in. Licking her. Tongue-fucking her. Sucking on her clit. I pull away for a second and scramble to my feet so I can unhook her bra and lay her back on the island. Then I’m dragging her thong down her legs. She puts her feet on my shoulders but lets her knees drop open, affording me every single fucking millimetre of the delights she’s offering.

Who am I kidding? I’ll manage without Claudia, but I won’t manage without this. I’ll need to hook myself up with some top-notch pussy as soon as I get back.

At moments like this, when most of my blood is in my cock and I’m so brain-whipped with arousal that I can’t think straight, it feels to me like my brand-new, annoyingly impressive brother-in-law and his mates might just be the smartest humans on the planet. An exclusive, sophisticated, decadent club created purely as a temple to sex?

For a guy who’ll be pulling seventy-hour weeks when he gets back, it’s looking like more and more of a compelling prospect. Even if I know that after I’ve come and my biochemistry has returned to normal, civilised levels, I’ll find it morally repulsive again.

Claudia, bless her, doesn’t stand a chance against my onslaught. She mewls and writhes and makes breathy little gasps, and she’s fucking adorable. My zipper is biting into my straining cock, so I up the ante. I need to be balls deep inside her. Now.

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