Page 8 of The Passion

Fuck them, make their world spin, and then move on.

“Not sure you ruined me,” she mumbles as I lick up her neck and nibble on her ear, while I slide my hands under her body and roll us over so she is on top of me.

I can’t help the chuckle that leaves me.

“Such a lie.” I take her lips again, needing another taste. It’s like her skin has this magic potion coated on it. I know her pussy sure does. It’s like she has some pussy passion potion that has made my brain short circuit.

As we both pull back the smallest amount to take a breath, she whispers out loud what I was thinking.

“Maybe you need to try a second time.”

“Bold of you to assume there will only be two times. I’m fucking you until the sun rises, princess. Buckle in, because you won’t be able to deny you’re ruined tomorrow when you can’t move an inch without being reminded of my cock pleasuring you to a place of ecstasy you have never been before.”

Feeling her quiver at my words has my cock inside her twitching already, and I know I need to clean up the condom and suit up again.

Fuck, I hope I have enough supplies in my wallet.

I wonder if anyone has ever used Uber Eats or Door Dash to get a box of condoms delivered. I have a feeling if they haven’t, then tonight, I’ll be the first, because I plan on neither of us sleeping before the sun rises.

I get one shot at Felisha Kentwall, and I’m making the most of it.

Tonight isn’t over until neither of us can go anymore, and the way I’m feeling amped up right now, then I can tell there is no stopping anytime soon!

Her last words as I walked out of the suite are still lingering with me as I sit in the back of the car heading home, the faint morning glow just starting to light up the city.

“Thank you for your discretion. It was a good night… Was it the best? Hmm, a lady never tells.”Then she closed the door on me, with her hard bitch face back on like the armor she wears. But for those few hours in her bed, with her naked and in my arms, it was gone, and I got to see a woman I’m not sure anyone else has ever been privileged enough to see.

She made sure she got the last word, but instead of me drawing the line like it’s over, there is already this nagging feeling in my gut that I might want to revisit this night, and not just in my dreams.

Yeah, I’m sure she has a secret pussy passion potion, and it’s already working its magic on me.

Fuck, just forget her already and move on. She’s forbidden fruit, just remember that.

“Will you still need me to take you to the office at the normal time, sir?” Gregory’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

Being a driver for entitled pricks like me must be the worst job. Here I have him up at three am, and he is still thinking about getting me to the office when I need him to.

“No, I’ll drive myself this morning, thanks.” I need sleep, but I’m not sure how long I will manage. We have meetings booked in the morning, and I can’t let my fuck-boy life affect my role at work. Nic relies on me to be at the top of my game, every minute of every day.

I’m not letting my best friend down who just also happens to be my boss.

Looks like a power nap will be all I get. Looking at my watch, I calculate that from three am I should be able to get three hours’ sleep, up by six thirty, and in the office by seven. I’ll skip the gym, because let’s be honest, I’ve had a pretty solid workout tonight.

Showering and falling into bed, all I can think is that today certainly turned out to be one for the books. Unexpected, but one I won’t forget for a while, if ever.

I walk into the office, dressed to kill and ready for the day. I surprise myself how I can survive on such a small amount of sleep. It’s probably from years of doing it, and it has become normal for my body.

“You look like shit.” My brother Forrest’s voice is the first thing I hear as I step into my office where he is obviously waiting for me. Well, there goes my illusion that I look good this morning, hiding the two hours’ sleep I ended up with.

“Good fucking morning to you too, big brother. A little early for the meeting, aren’t we?” I move past him to put my briefcase down and turn on my computer.

“Who was it this time? Let me guess, that blonde from the Mexican restaurant we went to last week? Or the brunette from the charity dinner two nights ago?” Forrest is looking smug as he leans back in his chair on the other side of my desk.

“Seriously, you make me sound so shallow.” I reach for my phone to reply to a text message that has just popped up from Remington about a security issue I raised in one of our hotels in Paris when I was there last week.

“If the shoe fits, Brother.” He shrugs at me, and I want to throw my phone across the room at him.

“That’s the best you’ve got? And here I thought you were a sophisticated gentleman who is above the common jokes your brother uses,” I say, trying to hide the bitterness that is creeping into my voice because I’m so tired.

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