“An escort?” he laughs. “What, did you just wind up on our website by accident?”
“Yes.” I nod firmly. “Complete accident.”
“Right. And you just clicked on my profile by accident too. You didn’t think, here’s a man who can really fuck me senseless, stuff me full and give me the good hard drilling I’m begging for.”
I swallow again, trying to wet my lips. “Also… Also an accident, yeah.”
“So you don’t want me to try?” He raises a single eyebrow and lets his gaze sweep over my body again. “You don’t want me to bend you backwards over this couch right here and fuck you while I shove my thumb inside your ass?”
My pussy throbs. My clit feels like a heavy lead weight between my thighs. God, I’m going to have to jerk off for so long tonight to get him out of my head.
“Um…” I can’t make myself deny it. Not when he’s staring at me like this.
He steps in closer again and reaches up. This time he bypasses my arm, trails his fingertip along the nape of my neck instead. Traces the edge of my jawline lightly, feather soft. A sharp contrast to the way he’s talking right now. “You don’t want to take me upstairs, show me your collection of sex toys, and let me fuck you with every single toy in that collection, one after the other?” His smile goes deep, seductive. “I bet we could go all night and not run out of new toys to try, couldn’t we, you kinky girl?”
“Probably,” I answer without thinking, eyes locked on his.
He laughs again, louder. “I love your filthy mind, Carmine. So come on. Are you really going to tell me you don’t want this? If you don’t, say it and I’ll leave.”
I hesitate. Stare up at him. His grin widens.
“If you want me to stay, then show me your bedroom…”
We don’t have to have sex, I tell myself. Even though I’m already imagining his cock. How fucking glorious it would feel to have a real live man fucking me again, instead of just my toys. Not to mention this man. This perfect fucking specimen. This man who’s standing right here telling me he wants to act out my darkest fantasies.
I grab his hand before I can think better of it and tug him up my staircase.
“I thought so,” he laughs as he trails after me.
I glance over my shoulder at him. “It’s the first door on the right,” I say, still standing halfway up the staircase. “If you really want to take me.”
He reads my mind. Caleb grabs me and flings me over his shoulder with ease. I’m not a tiny girl, but for him it seems to be nothing. He carries me up the steps without even slowing, and turns right at the landing, kicking open my door to carry me across the threshold. His body is white-hot against mine, his muscles digging into my stomach, my thighs, my chest.
By the time he tosses me across the bed, I can hardly breathe from anticipation. He drops onto the bed on all fours above me and I lie back, gazing up at him, my breath trapped in my chest.
“Which drawer?” he asks, and I catch my breath. This is it. The moment I’ve fantasized about for so long. A guy who’s finally willing to be as filthy and kinky as I am.
“Top drawer,” I answer, eyes locked on his.
He reaches across me without responding and pulls it open. “You don’t disappoint, do you, Carmine?” I can hear the low chuckle in his voice, and something else under it. Desire. Lust. “God, you are such a filthy little girl.”
I lean up beneath him, closer to the drawer, and peek at what he’s doing.
He still has one hand in the drawer, and brings the other to trail down my neck and rest on my upper arm as he gazes down at me below him. “I’m going to fulfill all your fantasies, Carmine,” he says, voice low and hot. “Even the ones you didn’t know you had.”
Another shiver races along my spine. “You think?” I ask, lifting my chin. “Because I have a lot of fantasies…”
He smirks. “Oh, I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.” He lets his hand slide around my waist, cups my hips to pull me up against him. I arch my hips toward him, and he slides one thigh between my legs. I can feel the brush of his cock against my inner thigh, just briefly, before he leans back to reach for the drawer again. “But you’re underestimating the power of my imagination, Carmine. And you, my dear, are very inspiring…”
He reaches down and grabs my shirt. He pulls it up over my head, and tosses it aside, then takes a moment to gaze down at my body. I shiver again, even more so when he reaches beneath me to cup my breasts in his strong hands. He massages them gently, his fingers flick across my nipples, and even through the fabric of the bra I can feel them growing hard. Then he slides his hands around my sides and glides them down my waist toward my hips instead.