a storm of mixed emotions. It was that feeling when I didn’t know what the fuck I was feeling.
I quickly soaped up my body, my hand drifting to my dick. I stroked myself once, and my eyes squeezed shut. An image of Lila drifted behind my eyelids.
Perky tits, pink nipples, cute as fuck belly button, taunt stomach, curvy hips, and an ass I wanted to sink my dick in.
My cock jerked as I put more pressure on it, fisting the length from base to tip. My hand glided over my dick easily through the cascading water. Pre-cum covered the tip, and my balls grew tight between my legs.
Sometimes, as messed up as this was, I wondered if I could just fuck her and get rid of this itch. But Lila wasn’t someone I could fuck out of my system. It was years of built-up tension and sexual need between us. One simple fuck, one hot night… would never be enough.
Because the moment I had one taste of her… I’d need more...I would never be satisfied.
My stomach caved, and my thighs tightened as the pressure built, and it finally released. My knees weakened, and I pressed my forehead against the tiles, thick ropes of cum spilling over my hand instantly washed away by the water. I fisted my dick until every last drop was spent and then I cursed. So. Fucking. Weak.
This had to end, now… tonight…
38
Lila
His presence was a warm heat behind me as we walked into the bar. He was close; really, really close. I could feel him. I could smell him. He was so close, yet so far out of reach. A dangerous temptation dangling right in front of me.
I wanted to turn around and wrap my arms around him, bask in his warmth. We’d hugged and cuddled plenty of times before, but since the Charity Gala, everything had been different.
He had been different.
Somehow, there was a wall between us now. I couldn’t break it or walk around it. It was exhausting and scary – watching the change in him, seeing him so…cold and withdrawn from me. Sometimes, it felt like he was battling something inside his head. I waited silently for him to come to me, to speak of his worries, so I could find a way to soothe him. Like always.
Except…it started to feel as if I was the problem. As if he was hiding from me.
A week in Paris. This was supposed to be fun and exciting. An adventure for us, but it was day one and it was already going to waste.
I chewed on my bottom lip as we walked further inside the dim room. It wasn’t overly crowded, but everyone here looked fancy. After all, this was one of the most famous hotels of Paris; wealthy and posh people came here often. “I didn’t think the hotel would have its own bar. Fancy. I like it.”
“It’s nice,” he replied. There was a roughness in his voice, except his tone was robotic. No emotions whatsoever.
I paused in my steps, expecting him to bump into me. He didn’t. Instead, I felt his arm slide around my waist as he curled it around me. Our bodies collided together softly, and I sucked in a quiet breath. His rock-hard chest was to my back, pressing against me, and I could feel every intake of breath he took. His touch was a sweet, sweet torture.
Fuck you, for making me feel this way, for tempting me and leaving me hanging and…for making me fall in love with you…
“This way.” His lips lingered near my ear as he whispered the words. He steered me toward the bar stools.
We sat side by side. From the corner of my eye, I watched him as he ordered our drinks. His voice was smooth, and it slid over my skin like silk. Soft and gentle.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the man standing next to me until his hand touched my shoulder. I swiveled to the left, my eyes catching the intruder. Yes, intruder. He was interrupting my time with him.
Maddox Coulter – the balm to my soul but also the stinging pain in my chest. He was a sweet heaven but also the of my existence.
“Remember me?” the man in the suit asked with a tiny grin.
Yup, I did. He was the owner of the hotel. We met him when we checked in yesterday.
“I saw you across the bar, and I knew instantly, you had to be the pretty girl I met