The Man Who Has No Heart - Victoria Quinn Page 0,75

liked reliving the way I received them. My hands slid across her stomach to her ass, and I gripped her sexy cheeks, pulling them apart with my fingertips.

She straightened again and placed her hands over mine, arching her back more, making her tits stick out, and she started to bounce, her hair sticking to the sweat on her neck and shoulders. She knew she’d make me come like this, make me come hard.

I bit down on my lower lip as I hit the finish line. A deep moan came from my throat, my cock exploding inside her already wet pussy. My fingertips dug into her deeper, directing her through the final pumps. Sex felt brand-new because I’d never had this experience before. I hadn’t worn a condom with my ex once she got the birth control shot, but we’d never made love like this, never had several orgasms in one session. With Valerie, it was all about getting off and moving on. This was about taking it slow, turning sex into a marathon, connecting on a deeper level.

It was so fucking good.

She stopped on top of me, our bodies still locked together, her come and mine mixed together. She ran her fingers through her hair and ground slightly into me, moaning like she could feel my come drip to her entrance.

Jesus, she was sexy.

She slowly raised herself, pulling off of me, and the come started to drip right away.

I didn’t care if it made a mess all over me.

She rolled off and went into the bathroom to clean up.

I stayed put, my wet dick lying against me, my head turned toward the windows on the city.

When she came back, she gave me some tissue to clean off.

I wiped myself off and tossed the dirty tissue on the nightstand.

She got comfortable against me, her arm over my waist, her head against my chest. Her eyes were directed out the window too. “What a view…”

My hands slid up the back of her neck and into her hair.

She lay there with me, letting the silence wrap around us.

Ever since she and I got together weeks ago, I hadn’t been sleeping as much. I was up late every night, making love to her, sometimes fucking her, but my productivity had improved, probably because the sexual satisfaction steadied my nerves and gave me pleasurable chemicals that improved my mood and concentration.

Minutes later, she sat up, running her fingers through her hair to pull it from her face.

I switched my gaze to her face, knowing she had something to say, but it was hard to focus on her mouth when her tits looked incredible.

“I don’t want to talk about this, but…”

I waited.

“You haven’t called her…and I know it’s not because you’ve forgotten.”

Like I could ever forget.

She watched me.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” I whispered.

She didn’t argue. “Alright.” She moved back into me, her hand on my waist, her eyes closed.

Now I watched her lie against me, watched her instead of the city right outside my window.

I sat on the couch in my office, where Derek had worked on his model. He hadn’t finished it, his pieces still there. I told him we would work on it when he returned. We hadn’t spoken in a while, and I suspected Valerie had something to do with that.

Thinking about him helped me get over the hurdle. Sometimes I forgot why I was doing this, but when I pictured my son’s face, I remembered he was the most important thing in the world. I didn’t want Valerie anywhere near Cleo, but I couldn’t live without my son…regardless of how happy Cleo made me.

I made the call.

It rang a long time, like she would let it go to voice mail.

But she answered—aggressively. “If you’re calling to get Derek—”

“I just want to talk about us.” I’d known she would be pissed, but I hadn’t anticipated that wrath. She immediately went after the one thing I cared about, holding him hostage like he was leverage—not a fucking person.

She turned quiet right away, as if I’d said the one thing she wanted to talk about.

“Look…I’m sorry I blew up at you.” I didn’t mean a fucking word of it. Sometimes I wished I could be like other men, just forget about their kid and move on, but I really loved my son…so fucking much. I wanted to be a father, to provide for him, spend time with him…watch him grow into a man. “I thought we were building a new relationship, and then you caught