Maybe he hadn’t f**ked anyone I knew, and this was just one of his games.
“Stop teasing and get in this bed,” I said.
He paused, then walked over and sat down next to me.
I grabbed the button of his jeans and started unfastening it.
“I took Justine out for drinks a few times,” he said.
“Who?”
“She was your stand-in for the TV commercial. Pretty girl. Curvy. Blonde.”
I finished unbuttoning his jeans and pulled my hands away.
Whispering, I said, “You f**ked her to get back at me.”
“And I broke her heart.”
“Are you going to break mine?”
“Probably,” he said.
Without thinking, I reached up and slapped his face.
He rubbed his cheek, but didn’t take his eyes off me as he reached down and removed his jeans and underwear.
“Is that what a real woman does?” he asked. “Slap a guy when he tells her the truth?”
I hauled off and slapped the other cheek.
“Get on your knees,” he said.
“You motherfucking vampire sociopath.”
He kept staring at me, his green eyes intense. My pu**y was buzzing like an angry hornet’s nest.
“Roll over,” he said slowly. “Get on your knees and yank your panties down.”
Trembling and buzzing, I did as he ordered. I got on my hands and knees on the bed, and I tugged my panties down.
He moved in behind me and plunged two fingers into my aching pu**y, wetting them quickly. Next, I felt the head of his c**k between my cheeks, up high, the door above the one where babies get made. He rubbed his fingers along my pu**y, in and out, then drew the slickness onto his cock.
I gasped as he plunged in, filling me. My pu**y was hot and clinching as he slid in and out of my ass, tight around his hard dick. His hands gripped and held on tight to my h*ps as I moaned in pleasure and angled to receive him deeper and deeper.
I bucked against him, urging him on, harder and faster. His body slapped against my flesh, and he pounded my ass like the man of my dreams, made real.
My hand was damp with sweat, and so was his as I guided his arm around and down to my clit. He scarcely grazed the nub, and I started to come, getting banged from front and back, moaning like a whore.
With a few more thrusts, I exploded in a wet, gushing orgasm, running down my leg. He grunted a few swear words, then pulled out and spurted hot come across my back.
I slowly reached for a pillow and held it to my chest as I eased back down to the bed, lying on my stomach. He couldn’t see my face, but I mouthed a word: wow.
He cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.
And what do you say, exactly, after something like that?
He got off the bed and grabbed a handful of tissues, then cleaned up my back.
“There’s some in your hair,” he said softly.
“I guess I’ll take a shower.”
He cleared his throat again. “I’ll go run the water.”
He left for the bathroom, and I grabbed some more tissues to get the fluid from between my legs. By now, my little gush had happened enough that it wasn’t such a shock anymore. Sex is messy, and what’s wrong with a little extra juice? Dalton didn’t seem to have noticed.
I walked into the bathroom and joined him in the spacious shower. “Our breakfast is getting cold,” I said.
He nodded and stepped aside so I could have a turn under the largest sprayer in the multi-spray shower.
“We’ll have a bite, then flower shopping,” he said.
“Flower shopping? So, we’re not going to talk about the nasty things we said to each other a few minutes ago?”
“I think we both got a lot off our chests.” At the mention of chests, his gaze went to my br**sts, and he began to lather them up with the soap in his hands.
“Did you pull that little trick with Justine? Telling her to get on her knees and yank down her panties?”
“Why don’t you tell me what you did with Keith? Did you suck his c**k and tell him he was so big, he was choking you?”
“Please. Too big for this mouth?”
He backed me up against the marble wall of the shower and kissed me hard, our teeth clinking. He was already getting hard again, pressing against my stomach.
“That mouth of yours,” he murmured. “I want it wrapped around my dick.”
“Stop saying dick, and it might happen.”
“Dick,” he repeated, thrusting it against my body.
“Shut up.” I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him down to kiss me.
We kissed for a few minutes, his c**k growing more demanding and hard.
I got down on my knees under the warm water, and I gazed up at him, from his muscular abs and chest to his gorgeous, famous face.
What was going on with us? The night before, I had encouraged him to break me, and now, it seemed to be happening. There’s something so scary about getting exactly what you ask for.
I grabbed hold of his cock, and I didn’t just suck it. I f**king worshipped it.
~
After the shower, we steered the food trolley over to the round dining table in the front room, and quietly ate the now-cool breakfast. Dalton offered to order up more food, or take me out, but cold food was better than waiting.
My mocha tasted like a regular coffee, then I found all the syrup at the bottom, in one surprising slurp. (Ah, the unmixed beverage. The bane of the mocha drinker.)
Dalton did a funny thing before he got dressed. He took five pairs of pants out of his suitcase (why he’d brought five pairs for a weekend stay was anyone’s guess) and he smoothed them all out flat on the bed. He took out five shirts and did the same with them, pairing them up with the jeans, then mixing and matching.
I stepped out onto the balcony for a minute in my robe to check the weather. It was sunnier than the previous day—short-sleeves weather, but not too hot—a perfect day for sightseeing.
I came back into the bedroom to find him with his fist held to his lower lip, still studying the mix-and-match outfits.
“Are we still trying to look like tourists today?” I asked.
“Right!” He grabbed the fanny pack from the previous day and started trying it on top of the flat clothes.
I left him to his big decision of the day and got myself dressed in the spacious bathroom. I chose a short denim skirt, with a pair of pale gray footless leggings underneath. The weather was warm enough for bare legs, but my inner thighs chafe like crazy if my skin gets damp, and I had a feeling Dalton would be saying and doing things to make my temperature rise.