Page 15 of London's Calling: Part 1
Keeping one hand on her neck and the other pressed to the small of her back, I pull back, then drive back inside, holding myself inside her for a second before setting a breath-stealing pace.
It doesn’t take long before my balls tighten, and Roni’s cunt clamps down on me as a second orgasm builds. Her head drops, and I release her neck, slipping my hand into her hair, then tug, pulling her head up and arching her back. I pump into her a couple more times as she shatters, squeezing my cock, before I drive deep a final time, shooting my load.
Her eyes are closed and mouth wide open as the last tremors of my release fade away. She looks fucking beautiful.
Chapter Eleven
Roni
My heart is literally in my mouth blocking any air from entering my lungs as my eyes pop open only to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in front of me. My pupils are dilated, hair pulled taut with Mickey’s muscular, veiny hand tangled in the wet strands, and my face is flushed with a rosy glow. Mickey groans, and my scalp screams in protest as he releases my hair. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but his fingers trail down my spine before both hands grip my hips as he pulls out.
My post orgasm bliss is quickly replaced with the reality of what just happened. When Mickey steps back, I push off the sink and spin around to face him.
“Get out,” I say, but it’s barely above a whisper. Mickey tucks his cock away, still coated in my juices, then looks up at me. Finding my voice and praying the words come out stronger this time, I try again. “Get the fuck out!”
His eyes meet mine as he finishes buttoning his trousers. “Don’t worry, Ice Queen, I’m going.” He steps forward, crowding me in, and I turn my face away. “Thanks. That was just what I needed after I got shafted by your father. Metaphorically, of course.”
I can’t help my small gasp at the mention of my father, and for a second, I worry Mickey has already figured me out.
His fingers trace along the love bite he left on my neck. “I bet you’d look fucking hot with my mark covering every inch of your neck.” He retreats and I automatically turn my face, ensuring I look him dead in the eye.
“This is all you’re going to get from me, Rawlins, so take a good fucking look.” I stand upright, displaying my nakedness for him to take his fill.
I feel every inch of his eyes as they scan my body, from my face, down my body, and when he reaches my thighs, he pauses briefly, no doubt watching as his cum runs down the inside of my legs.
Reaching down, I swipe a finger along my inner thigh through the mess he made and bring it to my mouth, sucking the finger deeply. His nostrils flare, jaw clenching as he watches me.
Releasing my finger with an audible pop, I wink. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to finish my shower.” I turn away from him and step back into the shower, closing the shower screen behind me.
I keep my back turned until I sense him leave, even then I only glance over my shoulder to be sure he’s gone before letting out a deep breath and letting my shoulders sag in relief.
Hands on the wall I lean forward, resting my forehead on the cool tiles as water rains over me.
“Get your shit together, Roni!” I reprimand myself. I know I need to get close to Mickey if I’m to gain the info my father wants, but I’m not meant to enjoy it so much. And my mind and body can’t decide whether it’s because I truly like it or if it’s just because of the forbidden thrill of sleeping with the enemy.
Either way, it needs to fucking end.
And I need to find out how that bastard got in here and make sure he can’t do it again.
I spent two hours yesterday searching for how the hell Mickey got in the apartment, but I found nothing. I’m trying not to think about the idea of him sneaking in to watch me as I sleep. I wish I could say it’s because the thought scares the fuck out of me, but it doesn’t—far from it.
I’ve been hiding out here since yesterday, but I knew my father would not forget his warning about spending time with Clayton. So, here I am dressed in a cream bandeau jumpsuit with a black blazer, my hair left loose, flowing down my back, waiting for Clayton to pick me up and take me to dinner, sans parents this time. I had to apply a thick layer of foundation to the love bite Mickey left on my neck, and I’ve plastered on the make-up, thinking of it as a mask I wear when I’m with Clayton. It won’t protect me, but I feel safer with it on. Utterly ridiculous, but it is what it is.
When Clayton arrives, I meet him downstairs, preferring not to invite him up. The longer I can keep him at bay the better.
“You look lovely, Veronica,” he says, stepping in to greet me with a chaste kiss to the cheek.
“Thank you.” I offer him a small smile in return as his hand rests on my lower back, and he leads me to the waiting car.
I nod to Carl before climbing into the back seat. Carl will follow behind, and I’m grateful for his presence, even if it’s at the request of my father.
He’s picked some swanky restaurant in Knightsbridge I’ve never been to before, but it’s clear they know Clayton.
“Mr Simmonds, lovely to have you dine with us tonight. I’ve reserved your favourite table. If you will follow me,” the waitress says before leading us to a table overlooking Hyde Park.
Clayton pulls my chair out for me, and I thank him as I sit. Taking his seat opposite me, another waitress brings over a bottle of champagne, and I have to refrain from placing a hand over my glass when she pours without asking me. I don’t drink champagne. It’s disgusting and only where it is because someone deemed it the drink of the rich and famous. I don’t say any of this even though I’d rather drink piss.
“Excuse me,” I say before she can leave.
