Page 49 of Audacity

Forget blindfolds and faceless guys and silicone toys: for some unknown reason, Gabriel Sullivan is hitting every spot in this moment, in this luxurious, light-filled hotel room.

He releases my mouth and braces on his forearms so he can start to move inside me, every thick stroke of him teasing me higher, our eyes locked. But with my legs outstretched like this, I can’t tilt my pelvis enough to get the friction I so desperately need against my clit, and I let out an involuntary squeak of frustration. He halts immediately, his dick pulsing inside me.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s nothing—I…’ I trail off. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, it’s easy to forget quite how much these men are payingfor the privilege of fucking me. For six figuresa monthI can suck it up and forgo the occasional orgasm.

‘Tell me.’ He puts his weight onto one arm so he can slide a hand over my breast, and I shiver.

‘We’re all good. I promise.’

His look tells me he’s not buying it, but he pulls out slowly and slams back in, and I grimace as I try and fail to roll my hips. I’m so turned on that it’s impossible to focus on anything else but my shimmering, elusive orgasm.

He stops again immediately, looking between our bodies.

‘You can’t come like this.’

‘I can come on my back,’ I admit, ‘just not with my legs stretched out like this.’

‘Fuck, I’m so, so sorry.’ He looks utterly horrified, and I hasten to reassure him.

‘Gabriel, I’m your employee. This is precisely what you’re paying me for. This is about you, not me.’

With a grimace that tells me what he thinks ofthatcomment, he reaches between us to secure the condom and pulls out of me, scooting down the bed and untying the silk ties with rapid tugs. Once both of my legs are free, he turns to crawl over me again. I bend my legs luxuriously, the soles of my feet sliding over the cotton sateen of the sheets, and he snags one ankle, cuffing it before sliding his hand up my calf. My thigh.

He opens his mouth, hesitating before speaking. ‘You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the privilege of being inside. You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, in fact. I look at you naked and I know, I justknow, that you were created in the likeness of God Himself. Every single hair on your head is astonishing. So you honestly think I could fuck you without caring whether you’re enjoying yourself?’

I stare at him wordlessly, unclear as to why my eyes are beginning to sting. His face is so full of intent. He’s beseeching me to hear him, and I do, and God knows, my self-confidence is pretty high, so why hearing those words from his lips feels like the most moving kind of benediction I have no idea. Perhaps it’s that, by bringing his beliefs into it, he’s elevating this far beyond what it is—great, if transactional, sex. He’s elevating me beyond being ageneticallyblessed woman who’s excellent at what she does into somedivinelyblessed creature.

‘Forget the money, Athena. Making you feel good—seeing you come—is so intrinsic to this whole thing we’re doing that I have no earthly idea where your pleasure ends and mine begins. None at all.’

He releases my leg and lowers himself so he’s ranged back above me. As he slides back in, I fold my legs up further and tilt my hips so my greedy clit can rub against his pelvis. I simultaneously love how powerless the restraints make me feel while wishing fervently that my hands were free to roam through his hair. To tug his face down to meet mine. To dig into his arse and push him even deeper inside me.

At least he doesn’t deprive me of his mouth. He dips his dark head again, and I open for him, savouring the feeling of his tongue entangling with mine as he fucks me, slow and deep. Frantic though we both are to come, he takes his time, and I force myself to take mine too, to drink in every last drop of this intensity.

For some reason, the way he’s fucking me feels filthy. It’s the leisurely drives of his hips, the rough grind of his pelvic bone against my thrumming clit and his hair-dusted pecs against my nipples, the sensual laps of his tongue. As the pleasure ratchets up and up inside my body, I abandon myself to it, the heel of my foot digging into his arse cheek as his kisses swallow up my cries and mine engulf his grunts.

Why is it that moaning into another person’s mouth is so unspeakably hot? Maybe it’s knowing that they’re greedily taking all your noises for themselves. These sounds I’m making are meant only for him, after all.

He breaks away enough to whisper brokenly, ‘I fuckinglovethat you love dick. God, the things I want to do to you. Every time I think there’s a limit, you and your filthy little fantasies remind me there isn’t.’

My body is a whirlwind now, a maelstrom of sensation far too powerful to withstand. A storm rages inside me, sweeping through me, rendering me incapable of anything other than riding it out until it’s wrung me dry. I usually close my eyes when I come—shutting off my sight heightens my other senses, of course—but I can’t look away from his hooded eyes and lust-clenched jaw. He’s my co-conspirator as much my captain in this moment, as helpless to withstand this as I am.

The alchemy, the sorcery, our bodies are weaving together has brought this good man metaphorically to his knees, and I hope it feels like a prayer to him, because this miracle of sweat and skin sure as hell feels like the closest thing I can imagine to a spiritual awakening.

I can’t. I can’t hold on. I’m?—

‘Gabe,’ I gasp out, ‘Gabe.’ It’s a warning that comes too late, because I’m splintering, shattering into nothingness, a force that feels positively atomic detonating inside me with shock wave after perfect shock wave rippling through my body, and I am nothing but smoke and light; I’m outside my body and yet conscious of nothing elsebutmy body.

Nothing else, that is, but the man above me and inside me, feeding off my orgasm as he explodes into his own cataclysmic climax.

I have no earthly idea where your pleasure ends and mine begins.

That stinging in my eyelids returns as I wrap my legs around him as much as I can, cradling him through his orgasm as he fucks deep into me before his thrusts subside. He holds himself there, and I turn my head to the side as he buries his face in my neck, peppering my skin with kisses.

His hand is wrapped around my wrist and I stare at it with blurry vision, at the beautiful dark hairs on his wrist and the long, slender fingers, at the short, square nails. I swallow, attempting to quell the low-level panic bubbling up inside me.This is good,I tell myself. You had fan-fucking-tastic sex with a total god who is paying through the nose for you and who seems deeply invested in your wellbeing. The chemistry is off the charts. This is agoodthing. There are no problems here, so don’t invent issues where none exist.

I’m quiet as he tugs at the sashes around my wrists, pulling the bows open easily, and collapses next to me, pulling me towards him. I go willingly, rolling onto my side and burying my face against his chest as I attempt to get a handle on this perplexingly emotional reaction I’m having to an excellent fuck. He throws a leg over me and bands an arm around me, his palm pressing between my shoulder blades to keep our bodies flush.

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