Page 28 of The Writer
“You want to do this here?” he murmurs. I groan at the feeling of him on me through the thin material of this dress, my head tipping back to expose my neck to him. Yes, I do. What do we need any more conversation for? We both know what this is—a booty call.
“Yes. Take what you want, Blake.”
I end up sliding my hands down his chest, feeling the ridges and bumps of his muscles, until I’m leaning back and he’s dropping his head to my chest. Sweet nips and kisses reign down on my exposed skin, his tongue wandering along my neck and then back down to the swell of my breasts. I can feel the tightness building in my core already, feel the ache trying to ease itself on his thigh.
“God, yes,” I hiss, moaning, as I feel his hands run over my skin and pull the zip of my dress down.
Rough, calloused hands run up and down my skin, squeezing and gripping at my flesh. He kisses his way back up my neck, as he pushes his cock on my hip bone, and I’m pulled back up until we’re face to face.
“You’re a little fucking tease, Ivy Broderick.” He grabs my chin, makes me stare at him. “But I’ve missed those eyes on mine.”
“I’m not teasing. No limits here at all. Get on with it.”
His mouth meets mine fiercely, and before I know it, I’m being lifted and moved somewhere. Iglance at the area as we go through, noting the dark corner he’s heading for. The realisation makes me giggle as my back hits a wall, and I let him devour every inch of me that he’s taking. Everything’s so strong about him, so forward and solid. I’m almost panting with need by the time his hand slides up my thigh and picks up my knee to spread me open.
Fingers forge inside me before I’ve taken a full breath, I gulp at the sensation overwhelming me. He’s fast with them, heavy and pressured. I remember it from before, the ferocity and pleasure from it, and I can feel the ache building, the sense of rush beginning to cover my body at the thought of orgasm. And then his mouth is on mine again. It’s all so close and mesmerising, so passionate.
My tongue swirls with his as I let his hand work its magic on me. It’s almost painful by the time I’m close to coming, and the feel of his size crowding me makes me beg for the finale.
“Please, Blake. I just … Oh god, yes.” Flashing lights start in my mind at the same time as a handful of my hair is wrenched sideways and downwards.
“You don't get it all your own way. Get on the floor.” My legs buckle under the pressure of his hold and the orgasm, and before I’m fully aware of what’s happening, I can feel the hot smell of musk around my face. His hand holds tighter, the other guiding his cock towards my mouth. I suck it in greedily, unsure if I’ve ever done this here before and not giving one fuck about that.
I’m so ravenous for him that I shuffle my knees to get comfortable, turning his body until he’s the one against the wall and I can devour. The deep, throaty groan that comes out of him as he fists my hair and guides me at his speed is the sexiest noise I think I’ve ever heard. If I hadn’t just had one of the best fucking orgasms I’ve ever had, I’d be having another at the sound alone.
I take him deeper into my mouth at the thought, desperate to get him off as well as he has just done for me. My tongue swirls, teeth edging over the sensitive skin until I can feel his control slipping. He’s getting breathy, agitated at the continued tease I keep slipping around his cock.
It isn’t until I fully take him inside that he groans loudly and tightens his grip severely in my hair, pulling me off him.
“Ivy, you don’t have to …” A wicked grin passes my lips, and I move straight back to his cock. Yes, I do. I want it all inside me, down my throat. I can’t think of anything ruder than spitting come out or leaving him to unload on the floor. Especially after the orgasm I’ve just had.
I smother his cock with my mouth again, my hands slipping under his shirt to keep him where I want him and my eyes looking up at him as he looks down at me. It’s barely any time at all before I feel him buckling and the hot come starts erupting into me. I swallow, repeatedly, enjoying the look of pure unadulterated male on his features as he scowls. That’s all man. Heated, passionate, almost angry even, as the last of him slips down my throat and he pants through his release.
I’m hauled up before I’ve got my fill of the view, and his mouth is straight on mine, as if he’s starved. Softer now, though. Quieter. I lull in the feeling of it, letting myself fall into senseless, whimsical thoughts of how it might be between us if we did know each other better than we do. That’s not why we’re here, though.
I end up breaking away from him, stalking out of the shadows and heading back for the bar instead of dreaming. Dreams are for idiots. I'm not one of them, so I order another Cosmo and a beer, rolling my neck in my post-orgasmic bliss.
“Well, fuck,” he says, coming up behind me and pulling the zip of my dress back up into position. One arm slips around my waist, the other coming up under my chin. “Didn’t think I’d be doing that while we were out. Certainly not quite so soon, anyway.” Soft lips land on mine again before he sits on a stool and pulls me into his lap. It feels odd to me, and I wriggle to get out of his hold, but he clamps me tighter to make me stay.
I grab my drink from the bar and sip it, looking out at the throngs of revellers. “So, as I’m here to show you a good time, and this is the beginning of it, what would you like to do now?”
“There’s more?”
“The night’s young, Blake. We can dance, drink, do all that again. Go somewhere else. Or, I suppose, we could screw all this off and head back to mine.” I drain the remnants of my fourth, fifth, sixth, whatever it is Cosmo, and try getting out of his lap again.
Still doesn’t work.
“What’s at yours that isn’t here?” he asks.
“Privacy. Can I get up?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t feel like letting you go yet. Sit the fuck still. For once.”
I laugh and wiggle my arse around on him, relatively happy to grind around on his cock all night if that’s what we’re doing. I mean, what does it really matter? It’s not like we’re getting married in the morning. We’re just having fun. I suppose one night of me doing as I’m told isn’t going to break all my rules. And these Cosmos are doing wonders for my carefree attitude. In fact, we should have more of them. Lots. Or I should. He’s having beer. “So, stay, leave? I get this all the time. If your visit is flying,what would you like to do?”
