Page 37 of Room Service
I need to experience life on my own, to learn about myself and learn the world around me.
I know Dorien likes to fuck, he told me so.
Shouldn’t he be a red flag?
But even as I ask the question in my mind, I know that red flag or not, I don’t want to give this up. Not yet, anyway.
My fingers entwine at the back of his neck as he continues to kiss me and slowly inch his cock inside of me. We both groan in unison as he fills me completely, my legs being wrapped around him allowing him to hit me so deep. And then he moves out slowly and pushes back in, over and over again as pleasure wracks my body.
This doesn’t just feel like fucking. Not anymore.
But my broken heart doesn’t want to truly believe it, even as he starts to invade it. It’s still damaged despite what I’m starting to feel for this man.
I know I don’t want to let him go.
I know I want this elation from being with him like this to last forever.
But I also know that I need to find myself, too. I need to know who I am without a man clouding my judgement. I need to discover all the things I’ve missed out on. I need to take back so much, and I know if I give myself completely to Dorien right now, I’ll regret it. And that’s even if he wanted to take things to that level—I mean, he did tell me that he just wanted sex, so I could be overthinking all of this… and, oh dear God, he’s moving down my body, interrupting my raging thoughts as he puts his tongue on my clit and gently moves it in circles. I fist the bed sheets as his tongue circles so seductively, teasing me but giving me intense pleasure at the same time.
I writhe when he softly nips my clit with his teeth. I groan when he runs his fingertips up the insides of my thighs at the same time. And I fucking combust when he pushes two fingers inside me and takes me to another high, only for me to come tumbling back down at a deliciously slow rate.
It seems that he’s not done though, even as I lay exhausted beneath him, as he crawls back up my body and hooks one of my legs over his hip as he enters me slowly, bringing the fingers he just fucked my pussy with to my mouth and telling me to “suck” the taste off of him. I take it all like a good fucking girl as I taste myself on his fingers.
I didn’t realise how much of a turn-on it was to be commanded a little in the bedroom until him. He’s made me see things differently, even if it is in a really intimate way and totally at odds with what I should be doing post marriage break-up.
As I lie beneath him, moving in sync with him as his dick rocks into me, I can only wish that I had met him first, and maybe, just maybe, I would have been given a different outlook on how a man is supposed to treat a woman. Or maybe I’d have just been what I am right now, a fuck, even if it does feel like more than that.
Chapter Thirty-Two
DORIEN
It’s the morning after the night before, and my thoughts are all over the fucking place. I don’t have thoughts, not on any kind of emotional level. I’m a rock, solid fucking stone, and the hardest nut to crack.
Until her.
Because she’s slowly giving me fucking feelings, and I don’t know if I’m okay with that.
I watch her from the doorway as she sleeps, sipping my coffee and admiring her delicious curves that aren’t covered by the sheet on the bed, having slipped off of her at some point in the night.
Her long hair is fanned out across the pillow, her lips slightly parted as she inhales and exhales so peacefully.
Fuck.
I force myself to turn and walk back into the main room, where I find my phone discarded on the coffee table. Another thing I never do is leave my phone unattended, because I am a businessman first and foremost, but last night, I didn’t even question it. I pick it up with an angry swipe, looking for the one number that I can call and actually gain some sort of clarity from.
I find the name I’m looking for and hit dial, the phone only ringing twice before it’s answered.
“This better be fucking urgent, Dorien,” he barks into the phone, his voice gruff and telling me I have roused him from sleep. My eyes move to the clock on the wall, telling me it’s just after six a.m. Okay, so maybe I could have waited longer, but I don’t have time to fuck about.
“Is it classed as urgent when I have a recently separated married woman in my bed who I’ve fucked on more than one occasion and invited for dinner last night in my penthouse?” I don’t pull any punches, and the silence on the end of the other line tells me that I’ve shocked the shit out of him. Yeah, you and me both, buddy.
I hear Gabriel sigh on the other end of the line before he says, “Fuck me, I need coffee for this kind of deep-rooted shit this early in the morning.”
“Thought so,” I muse as I take my coffee out onto the balcony, sliding the door closed behind me. I look out over the buildings and wonder if I’m being a total fucking pansy and reading far too much into this, but if I am, then Gabriel will tell me. He’s the only one I’d trust to tell me the truth, and he’s the only one I’d ever call to discuss anything of this nature. Although, it’s never cropped up before, because I don’t fucking do this.
“Right, I’ve got coffee, so hit me with it,” he says a few moments later, but I don’t even know what to say. He must sense my unease, because he says, “Is she hot?” to break the ice, and I blow a puff of air out of my mouth.
“Insanely hot.”
