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Beautiful Stranger

Page 30

   


“See how much better it makes it?” I asked, following our every movement in the mirror as I continued to push in and out of her tight body. “See how perfect that is?” I circled my hips, sped up my movements. “And over there.” I tilted her head to the right, to another mirror angled toward us. “Fuck. Look at the way your tits move as I f**k you. The curve of your back. Your f**king perfect ass.”
I brought my hands from her hair to her shoulders, gripping them, using them for leverage. I squeezed the muscle there, my thumbs bracketing the curve of her spine. Her skin was slick with sweat, her hair beginning to cling to her forehead. I bent my knees to change the angle and she arched under my palms, her body rocking back against mine.
She shifted her weight to her elbows and cried out, asking for harder, her fingers twisting into the fabric of the chaise. I gripped her hips in each hand, f**king into her, pulling her back roughly with every thrust.
“Max,” she moaned, her cheek turned into the cushion. She looked so wrecked, so overwhelmed and lost to everything but the feeling of where my body fit inside hers.
My legs were starting to burn and pleasure buzzed up and down my spine. Pressure began to build in my stomach and I bent forward, wrapping my arms around her waist to shift our position. She reached back with one hand, holding my hip, pulling me into her.
“That’s it,” I said through panting breaths, closer and closer, feeling her start to tighten around me, my own pleas muffled against her shoulder. “Can you get there?”
“So close,” she said, eyelids fluttering closed, teeth buried in her bottom lip. I reached forward to touch her clit, finding her own slick fingers already there. The chaise creaked beneath us and I briefly considered the possibility that it might collapse. “Max, faster.”
I looked around again, seeing us in different mirrors and from different angles, both of our fingers moving over her while we moved, and knew I’d never seen anything even remotely like this. I knew this was a game, but f**k if I ever wanted to stop playing.
I shifted my eyes back to her as she said my name over and over, her head thrown back against my shoulder as she came, her body squeezing me tight. Everything felt hot and electric, my heart pounded inside my chest.
“Don’t close your eyes, don’t you f**king close your eyes. I’m about to come.” I followed, my body shaking as I came, filling the condom. I fell forward, hand clutching at her waist and fingers tightening there, feeling the hot flush of blood pump through my veins.
“Holy . . . ,” she breathed, looking back at me with a small smile.
“Indeed.” I managed to pull myself up and dispose of the condom, and arrange us both on the settee. Sara was pliant, boneless, and smiled sleepily as she lay back on the cushion with a small sigh.
“I’m not sure I can walk,” she said, reaching up to push the sweaty hair from her forehead.
“You’re welcome.”
She blinked over to me. “Always so cocky.”
I grinned, closing my eyes while I tried to catch my breath. At least until I could feel my legs again.
Several moments of silence stretched on. Car horns blared on the streets below, a helicopter sounded somewhere in the distance. The room had grown darker when I felt the cushion shift, and I looked up, seeing Sara stand and begin gathering her clothes.
“What plans do you have for the rest of the evening?” I asked, rolling to my side and watching her slip back into her dress.
“Going home.”
“We’ve both got to eat.” I reached out, running my hand along her smooth thigh. “Certainly worked up an appetite.”
She gently brushed me away, kneeling on the floor to find her other shoe. I didn’t even remember taking them off. “That’s not what this is.”
I frowned. I suppose I should have felt some sort of relief knowing that she wasn’t moving this into needlessly emotional territory. But she was such a mystery to me. Obviously inexperienced, obviously naïve. But she’d come here, quite recklessly in fact, and was putting her trust in me.
Why?
Everyone plays a game. What’s hers?
She slipped into her shoes, straightened, pulled a brush from her purse to smooth through her hair. Her eyes were bright, her face a bit more flushed than usual, but other than that Sara looked perfectly presentable.
I’d have to try harder next time.
Seven
Maybe this was how Andy got so much done every single day. Nothing cleared the head better than a screaming orgasm with a gorgeous stranger who didn’t expect me to go pick up his dry cleaning afterward. Monday morning, I felt energized and completely engaged in the nine o’clock department meeting.