Mr Spencer(97)

“We need to fuck, angel.”

“Yes,” I whimper against his lips. He lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist. I’m pinned between the wall by his hard body. He kisses me slow and deep as he slides his hard dick through my swollen wet lips.

“You want my cock?”

“Hmm.” I hold onto his shoulders for balance. His tongue slides through my open lips again as he takes what he needs. Does he honestly think I can string two words together when he has me like this?

With two hands, he brings me down onto him hard, and I feel the familiar stretch as his body dominates mine.

My eyes close and I release a whimper.

He smiles darkly and circles himself deep inside of me. “You like that?”

“God, yes.”

He lifts me and slams me back down again, knocking the air from my lungs.

I throw my head back against the tiles and he builds a rhythm. The room is steamy and hot. Water is streaming down over his face, yet the way he is looking at me might just set me on fire. He goes faster and deeper, lost to his own concentration. He stares straight ahead as our skin begins to slap together.

“So. Fucking. Good,” he pushes out.

My body convulses forward, and he sees that as his signal to really let me have it. With both hands over my shoulders, he slams into me again and again, and I screw up my face and cry out as a freight train of an orgasm steals my breath.

He lifts me like a feather on and off his large muscle.

“Oh, that’s it. Clench that beautiful cunt for me, baby. I want to feel it.”

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

“Clench!” he growls.

So, deep… too deep.

“Charlotte, fucking give it to me.”

My face creases up as I try and deal with him. He’s like an animal when he gets to this point. The only thing he’s thinking about is the orgasm his body craves.

My head begins to hit the tiles as he really loses control, and the sound of our skin slapping is deafening around us.

“Fuck, yeah,” he cries as he holds himself deep. His whole body lurches forward, and I feel the telling jerk of his cock as he comes in a rush deep inside of me.

I can hear my pulse ringing in my ears.

And then he kisses me, and it’s soft, tender, and a reminder that my gentle man has returned. He smiles against my lips, his body still having me pinned to the wall. I can feel his heart beating hard in his chest, and I bury my head into his neck as he holds me tight.

This is it. This is what I’ve been searching for all this time.

He stays deep inside of me. I smile against his neck with my legs still wrapped around his waist.

“I thought you were washing me,” I pant.

“Hmm.” He kisses me again. “I thought I should get you dirty first. This is the deluxe car wash.”

I giggle and our lips linger over each other’s. “Did you just call me a car?”

“Maybe?” He smiles and he pulls out, gently lowering me to the floor. “You’re not dirty enough, though.” He pulls his condom off in disgust. “I hate these fucking things.” He huffs as he puts it in the bin beside the shower. We stay in each other’s arms under the hot water. The room is quiet with the sound of the shower the only sound to be heard. I can feel myself begin to relax.

“What are you going to do about tomorrow night?” I ask.

“I guess I’ll call her when I get out.”

My eyes hold his.

“You can listen, if you want?”

“No. I don’t need to listen.”

He smiles down at me and fixes my hair in a bun on top of my head. “You know, you’re kind of hot when you’re angry.”

“Can I have that on tape, please?”

He chuckles and picks up the soap to lather my body. “Except for the death threats and all.”

“It wasn’t a death threat,” I say. “Only a burial threat. There’s a big difference.”

His soapy hand goes down to between my legs. “Should I be sleeping with one eye open, Prescott?”

I laugh out loud. “Seeing as you kicked my brother out of your office today, I think you should.”





*



It’s late and I’m in bed alone. I can hear Spencer downstairs on the phone…

To her.

He’s been on the phone for forty minutes and he seems to be listening a lot. She obviously has a lot to say.

The green-eyed monster in me is fuming and wants to stomp down there and make him hang up, but the woman in me feels sorry for her. I can’t imagine what it would be like if he told me he was in love with someone else. But then, I could never imagine sleeping with him for ten years casually. Did she get the same Spencer that I get?

Or was he different with her? How did they meet in the beginning? Was it always about the sex? My mind begins to go off on a tangent as I imagine him going to her hotel whenever he met her.

Did they have a routine?

Would they go straight to bed and fuck? Or did they spend time with each other like we do? Having dinner, talking, and laughing.

I close my eyes in disgust with myself.

Stop it! He’s ending it.

My mind keeps picking up speed, though. When they had sex, was it better than what we have? Did she do what I don’t know… anal?