“Yes,” I gasped. “I need it, dammit.”
“Louder.”
“Yes!” I screamed, the effort giving me a burst of adrenaline, and I shoved harder, searching for more of him, needing all of it, instantly, like an animal in heat.
He rammed, my tight wetness welcoming the invasion, squeezing the length of him as he filled every pore of me. I whimpered from the release, the feeling of his skin inside me almost painful in its perfection. He moved a hand, letting go of a nipple and wrapping his hand around my neck instead. He squeezed and my eyes widened, asking his reflection a silent question. He released my neck and instead grabbed my hair, wrapping my ponytail around his hand and pulled, hard and firm, on it.
I could feel my orgasm coming, my walls clenching around his thickness. “I’m close,” I gasped, and he grabbed my hips, f**king me without restraint, his balls slapping my clit with a furious rhythm. The orgasm came and took with it every ounce of my self-control. I lost it, crying out and bucking, my legs shaking and hands slipping, my reflection making a ridiculous face before my eyes clenched shut and pleasure racked my senses.
He f**ked me through the orgasm, pounding over and over until I could feel his c**k twitching, him close to his own explosion. He smacked my ass hard, and I cried out, my spent muscles liking the stimulation. He spanked me again, and then yanked out, jacking his c**k fast and hard.
“On your knees,” he gritted out, and I turned quickly, trying to navigate with my pants still bundled around my ankles. I knelt in front of him and grabbed his cock, peeling off the condom, taking over the motion, and looked up into his gorgeous, intense face.
His mouth opened and he groaned softly, looking into my eyes and my upturned face, then focused on my lips, his eyes intent.
“Open your mouth.”
I did and turned my eyes to his swollen head, bobbing in and out of my clenched hand. I added my second hand, wrapping both of them around him, and jacked him and his orgasm into my open and waiting mouth.
The first spurt came—hot and white and on my tongue. Tasting it, I dove onto his cock, sucking it hard and taking it as deep as I could. I continued jacking, sucking his come and gagging on the hardness filling my throat. Brad moaned and clenched his legs, grabbing the back of my head and pulling it to him. I continued sucking, sliding my mouth up and down. After a few seconds, his hand loosened, and he stepped back, resting against the island and sliding his c**k from my wet mouth. He leaned forward, grabbing me under the arms and picking me up. Spinning, me lifted, he set me on the island, sliding dishes and food out of the way and laying me down. I relaxed on the granite, a smile overtaking my face, and he leaned over, spreading open my shirt and laying soft kisses on each of my br**sts and then down my stomach, ending at the top of my legs. He breathed in my scent, then placed his mouth softly on me and I moaned, pushing him off with one foot. “Enough,” I breathed.
He laughed and traveled back up my body, kissing me and smoothing my hair back.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Back at ya,” I said, grinning at him, delirious with contentment. I closed my eyes, a smile stretching across my face, totally exposed to him, feeling his eyes on me as his fingers trailed off my skin.
“What do you have today?” Brad’s voice was muffled as he rounded the island, his voice changing in location.
I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Another twelve-hour day of secretarial duties.”
Brad tugged at my arms, pulling me to a seated position, my limbs lazy and unresponsive. I smiled at him while he buttoned my shirt, looking up into my face as he spoke. “My offer still stands. You could start next week in my wing. You can come to court...watch me work.”
I made my eyes as huge as possible. “Wow, really? You are so big and important, Mr. De Luca.”
He stole a kiss on my neck, nipping the skin gently with his teeth. “If you won’t let me steal you permanently, let me borrow you for a day. Let me speak to him. I’ll tell him I’m swamped on a case and need more help.”
I laughed, taking over my buttons. “Like that would fly. He’d accuse you of wanting another sex toy and would keep me under even more of a lock and key.”
He frowned, grabbing my waist and sliding me off the counter. “You’ve got to get over your hang-up on Broward. If you expect our relationship to have any type of a future, eventually he’s going to find out about us.”
“Regardless of whether we have a future, I need you to keep us secret for now.” I grinned at him, hoping my thoughts didn’t convey through my often-traitorous eyes. Did I expect us to have a real future? It was certainly something I wanted, but Brad was a wild card. He had professed his intentions, vowed that he could remain faithful as long as I participated in his lifestyle. But I wasn’t putting too much faith in him until I saw actions to back up his words. I leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the lips before pulling away, his frown deepening, and he grabbed my head, taking me back to his mouth, his tongue taking mine until he’d had his fill. With a confident smile he released me, crouching down and grabbing my pants, sliding them up my legs, his fingers teasing me the entire way up.
Somewhere in the background, a phone rang.
Nineteen
The call was from Hugo Clarke. Brad took the call from his partner in the living room, and I ate my cold breakfast while trying to redress. I glanced at my watch. Five till seven. I was good on time, assuming that I left in the next twenty minutes.
Brad appeared in the doorway, and I looked up with a smile. My face froze when I saw the somber fix of his features. “What’s wrong?”
“You should sit down.”
I paused, setting down my fork, my mind trying to figure out what Clarke could possibly have said that would have this effect on Brad. “I’m fine standing. What is it?”
“It’s Broward. He was found in the office this morning, dead.”
It took a moment to register his words, and I ran the phrase through my head a few times, the unfamiliar concept fading in and out of reality until my vision began to spot in front of me. Maybe I should sit down. I gripped the counter, reaching blindly out for a stool. Brad was suddenly there, his hand gripping mine, and he led me to a chair, my legs giving out the moment my ass hit wood. “Bullshit,” I finally whispered, a part of me hoping, wishing, that this was his sick version of a joke.
“No.” The tightness of his face made the situation real, and I physically swooned for a moment, fainting now a real possibility. He sat down across from me and held my face, forcing me to look into his eyes, to focus on him.