Page 94 of Until He Confesses
We indeed could make this work without perhaps exposing ourselves to the outside world. But even if this was the case and the whole of New York could see him fucking me against the window, I didn't care. At least at that moment, I didn’t. Absolutely nothing mattered, despite my now unfocused eyesight and the writhing of my hips against him and to the rhythm of his sweet assault.
Everything was a sensual blur, and so when the head of his cock finally began to nudge at my opening, it was a bit of a surprise. But I was ready. He parted my ass cheeks for better access and then wrapped an arm around my midriff to hold me in place. One of mine circled around the back of his neck, and I spread my legs even further and lost myself. He fit inside of me like a hand in a glove, stretching and filling me in all the right places, and it was ethereal, to say the least. We'd slept together on numerous occasions, but every time, my element of wonder remained. I had been with other people, but none of them could make my heart race as hard as Lucas began to move in and out of me.
He started slowly as usual, and it was torture because what I wanted to feel was the impact of being drilled so hard that all the nuts and screws in my body loosened.
That was how it felt with him like I was no longer in a form like I was now a feather liable to fly away. My hand moved from the back of his neck to his waist, urging him to increase his pace, and he did. I then heard his voice in my ear.
"You like it fast, don’t you?" he whispered, and goosebumps broke out all over my body. I didn’t know how to respond, so all I simply did was nod and hold on even tighter.
"Was this learned from someone else?" he asked. "Or is it because you are so fucking damn stubborn?"
At the last word, I felt the effect I was searching for as he pummeled me so deeply that my hips hit the glass. I felt him to my core and couldn’t help but gasp. He did it again and then again until my hand went to the glass to keep me in place. He seemed to lower his knees, and somehow, he went even deeper. I was moments from coming so hard that my head spun, but I wanted this to last longer.
My hips went out of my control as they rode him, every thrust matching mine in a rhythm that turned me to jelly. I couldn’t keep silent anymore or control my breathing. I moaned and whimpered and cursed completely incapable of restraint, and he was just the same. As we neared the edge, I tried my very best to pull my eyes open so that I could at least get a mental snapshot of this scene.
My view of the city, with tendrils of my hair, slicked to my forehead from sweat, and the most gorgeous man that had to be in existence fucking me out of my mind.
It was perfection and soon enough my legs began to tremble. Or was it his? I couldn’t really tell.
I didn’t need to because my orgasm broke and surged through my system like the strongest of drugs. It was brief, but I didn’t stop rocking against him, wringing every single precious moment of it until regrettably, it came to an end.
He held me tightly as he tried to catch his breath. Then he leaned forward and turned my face until my eyes met his. I could barely keep mine open, but then after he kissed me, it was impossible. I completely melted into him and the kiss, and kept going. I never wanted it to end, but eventually, we both had to come up for air. And then we had to find out how to put ourselves in order without falling over from all the clothes bunched around our feet.
He managed it as always, and soon we were decent enough to move away from each other. His withdrawal from me, slipping out of my sex, was something that I kept in mind. It had been just as satisfying as it was thrilling, and the dampness I still felt all over was a testament to this fact. I turned around then, not really ready to look at him just yet. What I wanted was to head to the bathroom so that I could get myself together.
He immediately noted this and nudged his head toward a door, but I couldn’t figure it out. He took my hand and we moved toward the door.
“Come with me,” he said.
44
LUCAS
Two strangers, that was what we were supposed to be. How could I explain to myself that this was what she was to me? Her body has changed over the years, but some things haven’t changed. Like how shy she got after or how she couldn't quite meet my gaze. Or how completely unrestrained and expressive she was while I was deep inside her. How she held me and called my name over and over again in that breathless whisper that wiped out every sense of reason within my brain.
Every time this happened, I was amazed, and even now, as she went into the bathroom with me and shyly grabbed the items she needed, I itched to do all the cleanup that she needed. I had done it without a single thought when we were younger, and she had relaxed and teased me with her feet. It was in one of those moments, and as her hair had been spread out around her, that I had been completely certain that I would spend my life with her. But life was strange and disappointing, so instead things had turned out like this. But this was pretty shaking.
I stayed in the bathroom as I wet some warm towels and passed one to her as I cleaned myself up. Offering to sit her down on the counter and do the same for her would be too intimate, so I finished up with mine and left to give her the privacy that I knew she wanted.
I knew she would be leaving soon, and if things were the way they should have been between us, it wouldn't have been the case. Instead, she would have stayed behind and went home with me. I returned to my desk and began to put my things together so that I could head home. She had completely wiped me out, and given the state of my brain, there was no other ounce of productivity that I was going to be able to produce.
My driver was still available, which was a relief since both of us had consumed some liquor. It wasn't enough to make us both tipsy, but it was an excuse enough to insist that she ride home with me. When she came out, I presented the idea to her.
She looked stumped for a moment, and then she blinked fast, and I knew what was coming. She was, of course, trying to find a reason to get out of this. I grabbed my jacket and started to head to the door so she had no choice but to come with me. I was ready not to care or insist on how she got home because, just like her, I needed time to process but by the time we got to the elevator, I saw that she was following close behind me and was ready to come with me.
I slowed down a bit and waited for her at the elevator doors. It was a quiet ride down and would have been quite funny, given all that we'd just done, if it wasn't equally as upsetting.
Eventually, we arrived on the ground floor and met my chauffeur waiting.
"Sir," Henry greeted, and I could see his eyes go to the woman walking behind me. He didn't ask any questions. We walked out into the lively, cool night of Manhattan. He held the door to the back of the town car open as usual, but I shook my head to refuse it and instead went around to the other side.
"For her," I said, opening the opposite door for myself to get in.
She stopped, startled, as Henry smiled and invited her in. I turned to see how she contemplated all of this and then she sighed. I almost smiled but turned my head away. She was certainly a character, one who I had to admit to myself that I just loved being around.
Soon we were all settled in, and the drive began. It was a quiet one, but I didn’t mind. I could feel her warmth and inhale her scent, somewhat mixed with mine, so I leaned back and committed it all to memory.
It took us about forty-five minutes to arrive at her apartment and through it all, I wondered about my plans to head to Paris just like her in the coming days. I wondered whether to mention this to her but changed my mind. She didn't need to know that I had planned to see her again in just a few days.