Holding My Breath

She pushed up onto her knees and cradled the length between her tits. Quinn chuckled. His expression more victorious than smug, he tucked his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out around her.

‘Make me come on your tits.’

‘Are you reading me? That’s what I think you want by doing this?’

He gave a little shrug. ‘No, I thought we were doing what I wanted now, and I want to come on your tits.’

If he had asked her again what she wanted, by now her answer would have been for him to push her down onto the carpet and pump away until she no longer felt the need to be filled up.

As she wrapped her hand around his cock and bent her head to suckle him, she knew that she could still ask – no, tell him what she wanted, and he’d give it to her. And now, even though her cunt dripped fresh for a hard fuck, what she wanted was to give him what he wanted. He’d transformed his want into hers.

This time, when he cupped the back of her head, she closed her eyes with a moan and worked every inch into her throat, then joined her other hand to the first.

‘God, yes, that’s good,’ he expelled in a low rumble, and as she drew back he lifted his hips and pushed down.

She took him again, and again and again as he rocked upwards. She still sucked him, still squelched that hot length between two palms slicked by saliva and precome, but he drove her with his thrusts and filthy words.

‘That mouth. Jesus, that pretty red mouth. More. Faster. Suck me harder.’ He twisted her hair in his hand like she had done to him and drove over her tongue. ‘Come on, Molly, you can do better than that.’

Even though his words were broken by the huff and puff of trying to keep his breath, he still managed to run his mouth. His voice had taken on a mocking tone that spurred her on.

With his grip on her becoming more precarious, Molly took charge. She became his little sex toy, rocking up and down on her knees and bobbing her head to meet his thrusts, all the while tugging the soft, slick skin around his shaft.

He finally lost his words, instead spitting out frantic, nonsensical, sounds. He dropped his hands to his sides. A quick glance told her this wasn’t an act of submission. He clenched the sofa cushion between his fists; if he had been holding her head he would have torn her hair from the roots, or at least choked her.

Molly took him balls deep one last time, then sucked him hard as she slowly withdrew until there was only the tip resting on her tongue. She smiled up at him as she swirled her tongue over the smooth head, then squeezed down on him.

‘If you want to come on my tits, you could at least be a gentleman and watch,’ she murmured.

Wild blue eyes flashed at her as she took him in the crevice between her breasts once more and cupped his balls. Beneath her hands she felt the eruption begin, the mad tattoo of blood rushing through veins. She rolled her shoulders and pushed up, thrusting his dick into the tight valley she had created, and nearly laughed with elation as he lurched forward with the first hot spurt.

Molly tipped her head back and let him rain over her. It had been ages since she felt so dirty. She bowed her head and let the last drops ooze onto her lips. Looking back up at him, it pleased her to find him still looking down on her with a mixture of admiration and defeat. She licked her lips and pushed down on his bare thighs as she got to her feet.

She turned and he stopped her with just a hand on her hip.

‘That mouth,’ he whispered, then his smile returned. ‘The money you could make with that mouth.’

‘You couldn’t afford me,’ she replied, then turned out of his reach.

She grabbed her purse on the way to the bathroom, glancing back only to be sure he was still watching. She wasn’t sure why it was important, but she liked the lingering hunger on his face.

‘Will you have someone make up the room again?’ he called to her as she scrubbed her mouth in front of the mirror.

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘I’m just curious. I thought it might be a waste to have someone come in just to do the bathroom.’

‘Meaning?’

‘It wouldn’t take them that much longer to do the bed, would it?’

She laughed as she scrubbed her chest clean, then delved into her purse for her face powder. ‘You’re tenacious, aren’t you? You just blow your load all over me and you still want me on my back.’

‘On your back, on top of me, on your knees.’

He appeared in the doorway behind her and leaned against the jamb, arms crossed over his chest. He looked absolutely predatory as he looked down her body.

‘It won’t take me long to get hard again. I could play with you and keep you wet and coming until then.’

Even if she’d been able to hide the flush spreading over that woman in the mirror, she saw little point in denying it. She had just sucked his cock with such enthusiasm she could still see the marks of her lipstick smeared across the shaft. She clipped the compact shut and went for her lipstick.

‘I’m sure you could, and I’d like that very much, but no, and the clock is ticking.’

‘Forget about the money.’ He took two steps and pressed against her, pinning her between his body and the vanity. ‘I like you. I like you and I want to fuck you for the fun of it.’

God, he makes it so hard, doesn’t he?

She focused on filling in the bow shape of her mouth as he pressed his chin into her shoulder. If she did, who would tell? Nick? Hell, no. If she called down to the desk and told him to mark the suite as full for the rest of the night, he’d keep quiet and she could stay right here with Quinn until he had wasted her to nothing with that delicious body.

As he squeezed his fingers between her legs and glided easily into her sex, she almost relented.

Instead she squirmed enough to push him off. She didn’t look at him as she went to work on combing her fingers through her hair. ‘I can’t. I still need my job in the new year.’

Once in the living room, she started to collect her scattered and crumpled clothes. She needed a good scrub-down, but now that she’d put the brakes on this … sweet Jesus, this sordid episode, she needed to put some space between them. A jingling sound drew her attention back to him, and she was oddly disappointed to find him drawing his slacks up his thighs.

‘About our arrangement …’ he said.

Molly dragged her dress over her head and spoke through the fabric. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any harm in giving you until the new year. After that, I don’t want to see you again.’

She shoved her head through the neck and jumped to find him standing in front of her.

‘Our arrangement.’

‘We don’t have an arrangement.’

He looked unconvinced, and completely gorgeous with his chest still bare and his hair all rumpled. She itched to reach up and smooth down the ruddy spikes she had made.

Instead, she hiked her purse onto her shoulder and took a deep breath. ‘Take your time. I won’t have housekeeping up here until the morning – and don’t forget …’

She glanced at the envelope on the sofa.

‘Trust me, I won’t,’ he said, but his smile said it wasn’t the money he was talking about as he shrugged into his shirt. ‘I’ll see you around, Molly.’

She could have purred over her name lilting, liquid, off his tongue. It ran through her as she headed for the door and left her light-headed.

‘If you change your mind, you have my number,’ he called to her. ‘You know my working hours. Otherwise, I’m yours for a little more of that “or something”.’

* * *