Ruin:Part One(2)

His hands leap to mine, pushing them into the mattress. "Your cunt is so ready."

My body responds and I'm driven over the edge into an orgasm that grips both of us.

"Fuck, Kayla." His words fall into the air between us. "Kayla, yes."

I arch my back, clench my muscles and sigh as he pumps himself into me over and over, each thrust deeper than the last until he finds his release with my name pouring from his lips.





Chapter 2




"Get on your knees."

I stop. The hot water beating a path down my breasts before it skims over my stomach. I'd slept for hours after he left. He told me the room was mine until noon when the housekeeping staff would arrive. I needed the time. I needed the space and the empty air to think. I'd woken shortly after ten, my body aching from last night. The shower was my last reprieve before I had to face the world, my best friend, and the truth about what had chased me out of Boston.

"You came back." The words are foolish and unnecessary.

"On your knees, Kayla," he says against my shoulder before his lips blaze a path up my neck. "You're going to suck my cock."

My sex aches at the demand. It was my only regret as he walked out the door. "Yes," I whisper as his lips graze over mine.

"I've thought about your beautiful mouth since I f*cked you last night."

I move closer to him feeling the unmistakable brush of his cock against my stomach. He reaches for my hand, a gesture that speaks of well-mannered courtesy as I lower myself to my knees.

"I've never seen eyes as blue as yours." His hand slides over my chin. "Look at me when you suck it."

I nod as I grab the thick root with my hand. My lips open slightly kissing the very tip. The head is wide, spongy and gorgeous. I pull my tongue down the length, feeling the vein that is pulsing beneath my touch.

"Take it now. Suck it hard." The words have a firm bite to them. "Look at me, Kayla."

My eyes lock on his as I take his cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip. I murmur around his flesh as I find my rhythm.

"Goddamn, you know how to suck cock." The words are heavy with desire. "I'm going to f*ck your mouth so hard."

The promise is only tempered by the space. He leans back slightly, resting his back against the subway tile that surrounds the bathtub. His hands tangle within the long strands of my dark hair. I murmur slightly at the slight rush of pain when he pulls on it.


"Like that, Kayla," he hisses into the rushing stream of water that is bearing down on my side. "Suck it hard."

I up the tempo, my hand racing seamlessly up and down the length while my head bobs in unison pulling him deeper with each thrust of his hips. He's f*cking my mouth hard, the sounds escaping his lips pulling even more desire from me.

"Fuck. Oh f*ck. Suck it like that." Each of the words falls into the other between low groans. "Christ, Kayla. I'm going to come."

I pull back slightly as he rams his ass into the tiles trying to dislodge his cock from my mouth. I hold steady, my fists still wrapped tightly around it. I gaze up at him, staring directly into his eyes.

"I'm coming," he hisses loudly. "Coming."

I lick my lips as the first stream hits them. I hold him steady capturing every drop on my tongue and my lips.

"Holy f*ck." His eyes bore into me watching every movement I make. "Jesus."



***



"Are you from New York or Boston?" His voice is tranquil now. He's come down from the edge. He's dressed in a different suit than last night. This one is navy blue. The white dress shirt he's wearing unbuttoned enough to show a hint of the smooth skin of his chest.

I debate before I answer. "I'm from Boston," I offer in a low tone.

"You're just visiting here?" He reaches towards the floor. His hand elegantly pulling at the edge of the scarf that I'd dropped when I'd undressed last night.

I take it from him with a slight nod of my head. "I'm moving back here."

"You've lived here before?"

I stare at him unsure of whether he's making small talk to avoid the uncomfortable silence that drifts between two strangers after they've shared an exchange that intimate. "I did, briefly," I whisper into the scarf that I've now pulled around my neck.

His eyes drop from my face to the floor. "I grew up in Boston. I like New York more."

I hate Boston. "I do too, "I say slowly. I will like it more. I have to. I don't want to go back there.

"I'm driving today." His hand dips into the pocket of his pants. I hear the clink of keys as he shuffles them within his palm. "Is there somewhere I can drop you?"

I study his face. The curve of his brow and the strength in his jawline is familiar. I've seen his face before. "Have we met before?"

His brown eyes meet mine. "I would remember meeting you."

"You're sure?" I push back wanting to make the connection. I'd f*cked a few boys in college but he's older than me. There's no way he's twenty-three-years-old too. The way he carries himself is different. His clothing suggests he's wealthier than someone who would normally stay in a room like this. The realization of that stings a touch. I instantly wonder if he brings all the women he f*cks here or if there's another, more comfortable, place for those he deems worthy.