It’s still pulsing through me as he lifts me off him and sets me on the bed. I can still feel my pu**y clenching weakly, the muscle spasms making the pleasure linger longer than it should.
I drop back on the bed and cover my face with my hand. The bed creaks and dips and he leans over me.
I look into his eyes and he drops his mouth to mine.
“I don’t usually say this,” he murmurs, kissing along my jaw. “But I’m going to shower, and I wouldn’t be annoyed if you were still here after.”
He gets up, leaving me staring dumbly after him.
A one-night stand inviting me to stay longer? That’s a first.
I stare at the bathroom door long after he disappears, his words echoing through my mind. I wouldn’t be annoyed if I was still here when he gets out, either, but I know how bad that is.
One more f**k like that and I might not be able to walk out here by the end of it.
I still don’t move.
As much as I should leave, I’d be dumb to walk away from sex this good.
I push myself up and walk to the bathroom. Steam fills the room, and the panes surrounding the large shower in the corner are condensed with heat, tiny water droplets running down.
I pull the shower door open and slip inside. “Do you mind?” I ask when he turns.
“Not at all.” He reaches for me, his hand coiling around the back of my neck, and pulls my mouth to his.
I step under the spray of water with him and reach between us for his still-hard cock. I curl my fingers around him and stroke softly, the water acting as a lubricant for the action.
His tongue strokes mine as easily as my hand strokes along his shaft. He grows steadily even harder in my grip, and my body vibrates with the groan he releases. His fingers dig into my neck and my back as I work him.
The hot water sprays over us and my eyes sting as my mascara runs. I squeeze them shut tightly as I realize getting in the shower was a dumb idea. Nobody likes panda eyes.
He lets go of me for a second, stopping the kiss, and I feel a sponge against my eyes. I release him and laugh, taking it from it to rub my eyes. I open them and he’s grinning, looking down at me with amusement and lust mixing in his eyes.
I return his smile and drop the sponge when the sting has gone.
“Better,” he murmurs over the thunder of the water, turning and pressing me against the cold wall.
The chill of the ceramic against my hot wet skin sends a jolt through me. His hands slide down my body and he kisses my neck, sucking lightly on my pulse point. I wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me.
His c**k nestles against my center, the hardness teasing my clit into a dull throb. I drop my hand between us and position his head against me. He pushes up into me, the lingering wetness from my orgasm giving him easy entrance.
He holds me tightly as he f**ks me once more. The slickness of sweat and water on our bodies makes our skin slick together. I’m still tender so I know it won’t be long until I release again, until my body convulses and contracts around him.
It hits sooner than I thought. He nips my neck and I cry loudly into his ear as the second orgasm overcomes me. He moves until he reaches his own release and groans into my shoulder.
He holds me against the wall, our chests rising and falling in tandem, for a minute. I take a deep breath and push at his shoulders. My skin is on fire from both the orgasm and his touch.
He has the kind of touch a girl could get used to. One that sends both buzzes and lightning bolts across your skin, igniting pleasure and desire with just a light brush of his fingertips.
And that means I have to get out of here… now.
My stranger releases me and I step around him. I push open the door and step out the shower, reaching for a fluffy towel on the rail attached to the wall. My legs are trembling but that doesn’t stop my run out of the bathroom.
I dry myself off harshly. The towel burns my skin with the pressure, and I pull on my wet panties and retrieve my bra from the bed. I clasp it and squeeze my hair with the towel as I search for my dress. I find it on the floor at the other side of the bed and snatch it up. I tug it over my head.
My wet hair sticks to my face but I push it away. My shoes are lying by the sofa. I don’t remember them coming off at any point, but they’re there. I shove my feet inside them and grab my purse.
The shower is still running, but I pull the door open without a second glance. I leave it to close behind me and escape into the safety of the elevator, away from the man with the sexiest voice I’ve heard in a long time.
Away from the man whose touched closer to my addiction than anyone has in a long time.
I pull a hair tie from my purse and pull my hair into a scruffy bun at the top of my head. In the lobby, I walk through without the receptionists looking up.
My heart is pounding, my body still coming down from three orgasms in quick succession, but I pay it no mind as I climb into a taxi waiting outside.
I don’t give a crap who it belongs to. Just that it’s there and it’s going to get me away from here.
I lean back in the seat as the driver pulls away and blow out a long breath.
Love addictions aren’t easy. It’s more than just the feeling of being in love. It’s everything that goes along with it, and I can’t help but want it all. It’s a constant war because I know the dangers of the addiction, what it can drive you to.
I know how it can hurt.
I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and finger and count myself lucky I never got his name. I count myself lucky he never got mine.
One look at him and you know he has money—the kind of money that means you could track anyone down if you felt so inclined.
Just like we were when we met two hours ago, we are strangers, brought together by a wild attraction. The only thing that’s changed is our knowledge of the other’s body.
And now I never have to see him again.