“Who knew you’d be so greedy,” he murmurs. I look up to see the smirk on his lips before his hand comes around to the back of my head. Fingers weave through my hair and then he pulls me forward.
I lick him more confidently than I did yesterday, now that I know what he likes, flattening my tongue as I run it along the underside, leaving a glistening trail from root to tip. I do it again, only this time I let my small pink tongue dart out to tickle the ball sac hanging beneath, so heavy and full.
“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back in pleasure as I keep licking him, teasing him. “Suck me, please,” he finally begs.
I open my mouth wide and wrap my lips around his soft skin, taking in as much of him in as I can. He hits the back of my throat each time, and I’m so glad for my nearly non-existent gag reflex, something I never appreciated until now.
He tastes so good, like nothing I can describe, but I can’t get enough of it and the feel of him gently tugging my hair and the motion of his hips as he occasionally thrusts himself in.
Suddenly, he whispers, “Let me pull out. I want to come on you.” I release him and he slips his cock out of my mouth and pushes back against my shoulder. “Lean back, onto your elbows.”
I follow instructions, while watching him intently. With two strong, frantic hands, he grabs hold of either side of my blouse and tears. Buttons pop as the blouse rips open, all the way down to where it’s tucked into my skirt. He yanks against my bra cups until my breasts spill out the top.
And then he grabs hold of his heavy cock, still wet from my mouth and swollen, and he begins pumping it hard and fast and shamelessly.
It’s such an erotic sight to take in his beautiful, powerful body as he so confidently jerks off in front of me, that my legs begin spreading, my thighs opening up to him. It’s my body’s involuntary urge to feel him inside me.
“Push up your skirt.”
I do, letting it bunch around my hips. He hooks a finger around the crotch of my panties and he yanks until they slide down, past my knees, down to my ankles, exposing my sore sex to him. “What I would do to have that again right now,” he pushes out through gritted teeth. His hand suddenly shoots out, gently pushing me down until I’m lying on the bed.
With his loud cry, cum spurts out in hot streams all over my bare breasts and stomach and thighs. One stream lands right on my clit. His hand slows with the last spray, his pants hard and fast. “Christ, woman.”
“We need to have a discussion about your use of the Lord’s name.”
His head falls back with his deep laugh. I smile, watching this magnificent man in front of me, naked, laugh about something I’ve said while still recovering from orgasming with me. It’s just so intimate.
When his laughter dies down, he strolls to the vanity, dampening a washcloth. I can’t keep my eyes off his still semi-hard cock bobbing up and down on his way back. I want it in me again. I already miss that full feeling.
His hand is gentle as he wipes himself off my body, paying extra attention to the cum dripping off my nipples. When he gets to my lower half, he slides a finger across my sore clit and brings it to my lips. “Taste me.”
I open my mouth. He dips his finger in and I suck off the salty cream watching his eyes light up with excitement. “I like that you’re so eager.” He keeps wiping away until my skin is clean.
“I never thought that would be something a man would want to do, coming on a woman’s body.”
He grins darkly. “I can’t wait to show you all the things I like to do.”
My stomach spasms at the promise.
“You should work naked for me.”
“I may have to if you do that to my uniform again.” The buttons are torn and scattered, my skirt covered in his semen.
“Yeah, I went a little bit overboard. Run to your cabin and get changed and let me get dressed, or I’ll be late for this session. I’m already going to be late.”
I glance at the clock. That took all of eight minutes, giving him seven minutes to dress. Not enough time.
Taking me by the hand, he pulls me off the bed. I yelp at his swat against my ass. “I can’t have your naked tits in my face anymore or the outline of my cock will be on the cover of World Hotel.” Just before I duck out of his bedroom, he adds, “Toss the blouse. There’s no way to explain why it was ripped open.”
Shit. “My other one’s at the cleaners.”
“Don’t bother with the uniform today. Wear something casual.”
Casual. Okay. I fix myself as best I can, thankful for the sweater and vest I wore this morning, and then head for my cabin.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Can you turn your head to the left, just a touch. Yes. Perfect,” Hachiro croons, aiming his giant lens. “Fuck, these are going to be hot.”
I say nothing about the pint-sized Japanese photographer’s lack of professionalism, instead focusing on his subject, a sharp-looking Henry in the Tom Ford suit and gold tie that I laid out for him, leaning against a stack of armor stones outside the main lodge. I have to agree with him, though, and it’s not just because of the man he’s capturing. The entire vista is dreamlike. Most Americans will never venture this far north to see the foreign part of their own country.
“It must be something, working so closely with a man like that. He’s like steel. You can see the power he wields in his steady jaw,” Hachiro murmurs, glancing over at me, his narrow eyes drifting over my black leggings and hiking boots. They look decent enough with the vest and sweater that Henry bought me and, all in all, are the most stylish thing I own besides jeans. And, being next to Henry, I’m wishing I had an entire new wardrobe and someone to dress me.
I don’t take the overview personally. I noticed right away that he assesses everything and everybody within his line of sight. I guess it’s the photographer in him.
“Yes. He wields a lot of power.” I fight to roll my eyes.
Henry stands tall, calm and collected, seemingly unbothered by the guests who linger, watching as the handsome billionaire gets photographed.
Nothing like the version I saw only thirty minutes ago, his face contorted with ecstasy, his hand grasping himself so aggressively, his cries escaping from a deep and vulnerable place.
I hide my smile behind a sip of water. My intimate memories of him are mine and mine alone.
“Okay, now give me your back, and slide your hands into your pockets casually. Look into the distance, but give me your right profile,” Hachiro directs, nodding emphatically when Henry does as asked. I can already see this picture as being one I want to stare at for hours.
“When will the magazine be published?” I ask.
“Next month,” he confirms, then in a lower voice, “Hey, so do you think he’d agree to some nudes?”
I press my lips together to keep from bursting out with laughter. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”
~ ~ ~ ~
“You were fine on the ferry trip over, weren’t you?” Henry peers at me with worried eyes as he steers the boat. Behind him, Hachiro’s face watches with a mix of annoyance and disgust. I am taking up valuable time with his steely muse, after all.
“Yes. But that boat was bigger and it wasn’t so rocky.” As if in answer, a gust of wind sweeps past, swaying Henry’s boat. And my stomach.
“We’re going back.” Henry begins turning the wheel.
“No! Don’t. You do what you need to do, and I’m just going to lie down in the cabin and wait for the Antivert to kick in. I’ll be fine.”
That doesn’t seem to appease Henry, but at least he doesn’t argue with me, allowing me to duck past him and through the small door to the cabin below. It’s cramped and yet quaint, reminding me of my aunt May’s small travel trailer, with a narrow couch on one side, a dinette table on the other, and a compact kitchen area behind me. Ahead, in the bow of the boat, I see a bed.