Catch Him(25)

He smiled wolfishly. “My shy little love, it’s hard for you I know. But I like to hear the words.”

He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a condom. She might have asked him when he’d put it there, but it wouldn’t surprise her to know he’d carried the condom with him to the restaurant. In case the mood struck him somewhere along the highway to have her.

He rolled it on and then made a gesture with his hand that had her moving closer to him.

He shifted to the end of the chair.

Understanding dawned. It was just like their first time. Just the thought of that moment, when he’d made her sit on him, brought a rush of pleasure so intense she nearly came from just that.

Slowly she brought the skirt up and over her hips. Then she turned her back to him, and bent over, tilting her hips up at the same time. She waited and then felt the sting of a slap on her ass.

“You little brat. Thrusting your delectable little ass in my face. What choice do I have?”

He slapped it again and after rubbed the sore spot, which was always her favorite part. She was about to wiggle back between his legs like he had her do that first time when he stopped her.

“No, I want to see your face. I like to see your eyes when you come. Turn around, pull the skirt up all the way to your waist and show me that pussy.”

She did and suddenly his fingers were there, one inside her, the other playing with her clit. She put her hands on his shoulders to brace herself while he toyed with her. His fingers were amazing, but she wanted her toy. Her instrument.

“Now, tell me again what you want, my lovely.”

“I want your cock,” she whimpered even as his thumb brushed over her clit again. She had to actually hold back the orgasm because she wanted to wait until he was inside her. It was always better when he was inside her.

His fingers were gone and he was moving her so that her knees were on either side of him in the large chair. Then he was guiding his dick inside her while she leaned back, her hands now on his thighs, her nails digging in even as he thrust up inside her.

“I don’t know what I like more, fucking you in your princess dress,” he said as he used his hands to guide her hips, “or watching your tits bounce when I’m pounding you.”

She’d been too ready between the memories of their first time together and then the play with his fingers to hold out long. Sinead gasped and looked into his beautiful face because she knew that about him. He did like to see her pleasure. It was like he absorbed some of it himself through her eyes.

“That’s it, fuck you’re so damn beautiful.”

Then his fingers were digging into her ass as he held her tight to thrust hard and fast until he was coming.

When it was over she fell forward against him, her head on his shoulder as he continued to hold her, their combined breaths the only sound in the quiet living room.

She had no words, but the best part about that was she didn’t feel she needed to say anything.

He was perfect. They were perfect together.

She was not going to think of when it would come to an end.

Except she just did.





Chapter 9





“You’ve been everywhere,” Sinead said, having fun running her fingers along his hard naked chest. “Tell me your most favorite place.”

It was another day off for her and she was in his bed, like she was every night she wasn’t working.

Her father didn’t comment on it when she had to go back to the apartment for clothes and stuff. She didn’t explain it either. If their paths crossed they said hey to each other, but that was about it. She didn’t want to share David with him. He would make some dick comment about him, because that’s just what he did, and she wanted nothing to mar her time with David. Not when her time with him was perfect.

“Your pussy. Your pussy is my most favorite place. My most favorite thing to eat, my most favorite place to come. It’s really quite a wonder.”

She rested her chin on his chest and frowned. “You’re ridiculous. Fine, then your second favorite place.”

He hesitated for a moment, so long, she didn’t think he was going to answer.

“My mother’s father was American,” he said haltingly. “After my father left she brought us back here for a time. He had a horse farm in northern Virginia. Not much of a house, a shack really, but there was a big barn with horses. He taught me how to ride and I thought it was… thrilling. Freeing. But he wouldn’t let her get away with the drinking. They fought. It would get ugly. Eventually they couldn’t live together. We went back home.”

“I’m sorry. About your mom.”

“I’m sorry about your mum,” he said gently.