Overlooked(1)(76)

He looks up at me with intense, heavy dark eyes. I have nothing to say but yes, please, now.

Eric carries me across the living room, his tongue massaging my nipple as he walks. My body illuminates under his touch. All I want is more. No talking, no thinking, just primal urges satiated in the candlelight of my apartment.

We bump into the couch arm and he sets me down, fingers digging into my skin as I move against him and the thickness in his pants. Eric spins me around and spreads my legs with one hand while the other cups my breasts. He draws circles across my inner thighs, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy at his touch.

He’s so close to what I need and yet so far. The perfect metaphor of whatever fucked-up relationship it is we have.

The firm head of his cock presses against my opening and I cry out in desperation. I don’t wait for him to tease or for him to find me. Reaching back, I guide him into me and engulf his cock with my wetness.

“You are a fever in my veins.” he grunts as he thrusts into me.

Our first time together, we had sex for hours. After every orgasm, we kissed and licked and touched until he was ready to slip himself back inside me. Four hours passed, easily. Not once in that time did he fuck me the way he is now.

The intensity radiating out of him spills into the way he loves me with his cock. Because there is no other word for it in this moment. It’s not a sweet love, it’s not a cherishing love, it’s dominating.

I’m a fever in his veins. The words send chills through my body and make everything heightened. I wasn’t supposed to hear it, I know I wasn’t. Eric Stevens doesn’t show weakness around me. Tenderness, certainly. But not weaknesses.

I reach behind and give his balls a squeeze. He stops mid-thrust and groans, his head to my back. His breath is heavy because as much as he acts in control, he’s desperate. And that is incredibly liberating. Sexy.

My hips grind against him and his fingers dig into my softness. He leaves a trail of hot kisses along the back of my neck and throws himself into me. I lose myself to the motion of our bodies. I stop thinking, stop breathing and just survive of the rhythm between us.

At some point there is a misstep and we topple sideways. He picks me up and presses me against the wall, his cock back inside me before I feel fully righted. This is more intimate than anything we’ve been in and my brain can barely comprehend it.

“You asked me once what I saw when I looked at you,” Eric breathes against me. Our bodies continue in a perfect carnal dance but my chest tightens and my vision blurs. I can’t hold out much longer against him like this. His voice tightens, like he’s feeling the same thing. “The answer is perfection.”

I am no longer Kate and he is no longer Eric. We are bodies of energy that fly apart and come back together as one.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ERIC



“So then I said, who do I look like, fucking Spielberg? And he said yes, that cheeky fuck! It was hilarious. Man, you had to be there. Next time I go to dinner with those boys, Eric, I’ll give you a call. They’ll all need someone like you on retainer, I’m sure.” David wipes his eyes, finding his own terrible story hilarious.

They all do. All their stories are uninteresting and pathetic. All their stories revolve around being compared to someone else famous, someone clearly better than them, like a massive penis competition. Who has the bigger ego? Who has the bigger dick?

None of them. All their egos are as fragile as my old man’s hairline and their dicks are tiny. It’s why they cheat with young girls to begin with. They don’t know any better.

“Let me buy you dinner. Tonight.” David slams his palm down on my desk and jolts me out of the mental ass-beating I’m dishing out. “You look you could use a break, and maybe some pussy. One of my favorite spots? The girls, Eric! You wouldn’t believe the girls.”

I lean back in my very expensive leather desk chair and steeple my fingers before me. If I wore glasses, I’d take them off in a very dramatic fashion. Mental note: tell Sophie to order me some of those fake glasses Geoff always wears to court. They don’t make him look smarter, but they would be a nice accessory when dealing with dipshits.

“David.” I interrupt his stream-of-consciousness chatter about whatever club he wants to take me to. “I’m sure it’s swanky as hell. But we’ve talked about this shit.”

“But if my lawyer is with me.” David’s face splits in a stupid grin and he spreads his arms to match. He’s like a crucified glutton who looks completely content with his lot in life. “Who can say no? I’m just taking a friend out, having a good time…”