She laughed erotically, her neck extended, long and delicate. I let go of her hair to squeeze it just a little, fingering her anus again to make sure it was lubricated enough with her juices.
“I think I’m going to give him a chance, actually. He seems like a nice guy. Available, too.”
I thrust into her all at once, knowing it was wrong. Knowing it was a punishment, not a reward—a mixture of pleasure, agony, and guilt making my abs tighten against the mound of her ass. She was Mine. With a capital M.
It wasn’t a request, a plea, or a hope, but a simple fact. Her eyes confirmed it, her body sang it, and if she thought I was in the business of sharing, she obviously needed a sore reminder that I wasn’t.
She lurched forward from my thrust, standing on all fours, and purred as I pounded into her tight asshole, so impossibly snug I could feel it milking the orgasm out of me with a vise-like grip. I slipped my hand down her stomach to find her swollen clit. She quivered under my arm.
“Fuck.” I bit the tip of her ear. “Fuck, Judith, fuck.”
She groaned, her ass meeting my hipbones again and again, challenging me thrust for thrust, push for push, touch for touch. Just another day in the newsroom. Me pushing. Her pulling. Both of us chasing the feeling only the other person could give.
Fuck the guy who’d gotten her phone number. Fuck him and all the other men in New York.
“I need to quit you,” she mumbled to herself.
I need to own you.
Her body convulsed under me, cresting and tipping deeper into oblivion with every plunge, and I couldn’t help it, I had to do it, I bit the back of her neck like an animal—a savage, a delinquent—and plastered a palm over her throat, bringing her up so we were both standing on our knees as I shot my load inside her perfect, milky-white ass. She let out a scream that echoed inside my mostly empty bedroom as we both climaxed.
A few seconds later, she collapsed on my bed, spineless and thoroughly fucked. I fell next to her, facing the opposite wall. My default strategy was to pussy-block pillow talk and avoid eye contact. It wasn’t personal. I’d done that to Lily, too, back when we were together.
I planked, just turning around to look at her face, when the words left her mouth.
“I should go.”
“I’ll call a cab.” My ego was fucking me harder than I’d fucked her, and that said a lot about its stamina.
“It’s okay. I…”
“I’ll drive you.” I changed my mind.
She hated me spending money on her, but giving her a ride didn’t cost shit. Of course, it did require me to move my car from the garage for the first time in a fucking decade.
She nodded, her face solemn. I’d never really entertained the idea of having a woman stay over. The one and only time I’d done some actual sleeping with a woman in the past year was, oddly, with Jude, at the hotel suite. That time was different, because I knew she didn’t want to go back to wherever she was supposed to be and didn’t take it personally.
Besides, we’d hardly cuddled and whispered sweet nothings in each other’s ears. I’d just crashed, and by the time I woke up with a raging hard-on and a mission in mind to fuck her into a coma, she was already gone.
“You know, I caught my boyfriend cheating on me, too. It made me feel like the world was ending.”
I clasped a lock of her hair and fingered it. Pure gold. I went through the same shit, maybe even ten times worse, seeing as the guy who was fucking my girl was very familiar to me. “Did it?”
She chuckled. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Doesn’t necessarily mean shit. Have you talked to him since?”
“No. Not since that call. I have zero tolerance toward cheaters. Unlike some people I know.”
I deserved that.
“You can stay over.” I ignored her jab. “The daily trip to Brooklyn is bullshit. I can give you the spare key.”
Am I fucking high? What was in that pasta? I only had one shot. Still, I couldn’t find it in myself to take any of those words back.
Judith tucked her yellow hair behind her ears and ran her pearly whites over her lower lip. She seemed to consider it.
It was a relief not to get shut down immediately, since the suggestion in itself was ludicrous.
“That’s not a good idea.” She paused, flipping on her cellphone and checking the time. It was well after eleven. “I will take that ride back home, though, if it’s still on the table.”
“It is.”
“Let me get my dress and wash my face.” She hopped out of the bed, all business, like we were back at work. I watched her perky white ass jiggling in my hallway.