Buy Me Sir(75)

He must be done. We must be done.

I’m disappointed, even though my body is absolutely spent. Beyond spent.

We don’t move, either of us, just stay entangled with his cock pulsing against my sore asshole.

I wonder if he’ll want me to leave now. If he’ll get up and leave like last time with nothing but a parting goodbye, but when he lifts himself from my body he pulls me with him. I move so easily, his chest still hot against my back as he rests his chin on my head. His arms wrap around my waist, and he holds me.

Alexander Henley actually holds me.

“Fuck,” he says, and I can tell he’s smiling.

It takes me by surprise, and I giggle.

“That was… intense…” I hold up the opal to the morning light. “Lucky,” like I said.

“Lucky?”

I nod.

“You’re putting a good anal pounding down to a lucky crystal, are you? Tell me how lucky you think it is when you’re limping through the foyer later.”

Later.

He realises what he’s said, I’m sure of it, because he reaches for the remote control on the nightstand and flicks on the TV clock.

It’s gone six in the morning.

“You must be tired,” I tell him.

“I don’t sleep.”

“You don’t?”

“Not easily.”

I turn over to face him. “Not even in a comfy bed at a swanky spa resort?”

“Not even in a comfy bed at a swanky spa resort.” His eyes are so tired. “But you could.”

My tummy flips. “Here?”

“If you would like.”

I’m stupidly nervous given that he just spent the whole night in every single part of me. “And you? Will you stay too?”

He takes a breath. “I have to get home.”

“Okay,” I say, and I can’t hide the disappointment. I don’t want to.

He looks as though he’s going to add something, so I wait quietly, giving the pause he needs.

It works. I can’t believe it works, but it does.

“I’ve got a dog,” he tells me, and my heart jumps at the fact Ted Brown told me something real about Alexander Henley. He stares right through me. “But I could stay awhile. Until you get to sleep.”

I smile so bright. “I’d like that.”

He shunts enough to pull back the bedcovers and I slip inside. He fluffs up the pillows and rolls to face me.

“I don’t sleep,” he says again, “but don’t let that stop you.”

But he does sleep. I know that because I’m still watching him through pretend-closed eyes as his close for real.



Alexander



It’s gone ten when I get home to poor Brutus. A cunty move that takes me completely by surprise.

I wasn’t lying – I don’t sleep. Only I did fucking sleep. I slept like a fucking log for four fucking hours straight, tangled in the limbs of a stranger with her pretty face against my shoulder, as though I was in the arms of a fucking angel.

Yes, it’s that fucking ridiculous.

I feel grimy in yesterday’s suit, my shirt crumpled to fuck and my hair fresh from fucking bed in my haste to get back for him.

My grumpy black beast pads nonchalantly through from the conservatory as though he’s hardly noticed I’ve gone as I deactivate the alarm. I love how he plays it cool.

He’s left me a couple of parcels by the back door, and looks surprisingly pleased with himself as I busy myself cleaning up.

“I’m a prick,” I tell him. “I fell asleep. Who’d have fucking thought it, hey?” I ruffle his ears when I’m done. “A dick move, boy. It won’t happen again.”

He grunts as though he understands me, and I think all is forgiven as I dish up his breakfast.

I’ll have to be more fucking careful next time.

Oversleeping. Racing through spa foyers like a dirty stop-out on my way home. Sharing a bed.

None of this is me. Not even close.

But I feel strangely sated. More relaxed than I can remember in years.

My balls are well and truly fucking empty, my cock sleeping the dead kind of sleep that fucking all night long gifts to you, and my mind is quiet.

Free.

I slump down in the armchair I haven’t enjoyed for an age, breathing in the scent of orchids, and I feel fucking amazing.

I could sleep again, right here right now, with a smile on my face and the smell of Amy’s gorgeous pussy still on my fingers, but Brutus has other plans.

He nudges my elbow, glaring up at me with his overbite in full gruesome splendour.

“You want out?” I ask, and he gruffs at me. Yes, he wants fucking out.

No rest for the wicked, but that’s okay. I can live with that.

I grab his leash.



Melissa



Joe calls Saa at me happily when I step in through the front door, bouncing along to his favourite TV show as Dean tries to give him lunch.