“I’m addicted to your body,” he says almost reverently, tracing his fingers over my arms. “I can’t get enough of you.”
I sigh and pull his face down so I can kiss him again. My whole body is trembling, not just from arousal, but because I feel so emotional, on the point of tears. I feel as if I’m breaking, and I just want him to touch me, to make me forget that the thought of losing him is driving me crazy.
He lays me on the bed, his mouth tracing a path from my lips to my breasts. He takes a nipple in his mouth, sucking deeply, while at the same time slipping a finger between my legs, spreading my wet lips, and sliding a finger over my clit. Of their own accord, my legs spread wider, opening up to him, and I hear him moan against my breast.
He looks up from my breast. “I love how ready you always are, how wet.” His voice is a seductive whisper as he continues to play with my clit. His eyes are looking deep into mine, inviting me to drown in their depths even as his fingers work between my legs, driving me to another round of sweet helpless pleasure.
“Yes,” I moan, moving my hips. He lowers his head back to my breasts, moving his mouth from one swollen nipple to the other, grazing the aching skin with his teeth.
He plunges his fingers inside me, then pulls them out, slowly, while my body clenches around them, aching for more. I feel his erection against my leg and I almost come just from the thought of him inside me again.
Removing his fingers from between my legs, he moves lower on the bed, stroking the insides of my thighs lightly before wrapping his hands around them and holding them apart while he bends his head to stroke me with his tongue.
I almost explode from pleasure. His tongue moves in sure flicks, licking my clit, then sucking deeply on it. Heat spreads like flames through my body, incoherent pleas escaping my lips as I beg him never to stop. When his fingers join his tongue, I feel as if I’m hovering on the point of madness. My fingers grip the sheets. My hips buck uncontrollably against his mouth, a tight scream escaping me as I lose myself in a bone shaking climax.
He lifts his head, watching my face as I recover. I rise from the bed, getting on my knees as I push him to lie on his back. His cock is erect, facing upwards like a thick, hard mast. Bracing my hands on his chest, I straddle him, slowly lowering my body until he’s completely sheathed inside me.
His hips grind upwards, a small groan escaping his lips. “You feel so good,” he says.
His hand grips my hip as I move up then slide back down. His lips open. “Fuck,” he breathes.
My body clenches around him as I ride him again. Sweat beads on my skin, and his low grunts blend with my soft moans. He grips my waist, holding me still as he braces his back on the bed, pounding his hips up at me. He’s fucking me so hard, so fast, making me a helpless mass of warm, hot pleasure. My body starts to pulse uncontrollably, and then I’m exploding, spiraling into a sea of nothing but pure ecstasy.
His hands tighten around my waist, his hips pumping as he thrusts deep into me with an explosive groan. The movement lifts my knees off the bed, and I feel the warmth as he spurts his pleasure inside me. I fall onto his chest and his arms cover me, holding me to him. I’m almost drifting to sleep when he moves, laying me on my side and pulling the covers over me. Then he picks up his clothes from the floor, putting on his pants before he leaves the room, and me.
WE leave for New York the next day, after spending the morning at the Gold Dust, which, in one week has made so much progress that to my eyes, it’s ready for the grand opening. I can only assume that Landon’s presence had something to do with the speedy progress, as the opening night is still weeks away.
Landon hardly says a word to me, even on the flight back. Apart from a few polite words, we might as well be strangers again.
What had I expected, after last night? We’d made love. He’d left, and it had obviously been his way of saying goodbye. Of telling me that whatever we had, it ended last night.
The truth is, I don’t feel like talking either. The less we say to each other, the less I’ll be tempted to dwell on the things we’d both said in the heat of our fight, and afterward. I don’t want to hope that maybe, just maybe we have something that can be parlayed into a real relationship. It’s safer to stick with the original arrangement, a short time together, and then a clean break. It’s what I asked for. It’s what I wanted. Only, now I don’t feel as if I’m getting what I want. I feel like I’m losing something I can never replace.
His driver is at the airport to pick us, the same one who took me to the airport when I was on my way to San Francisco. God! How different I’d felt that day, excited at what lay ahead, and confident that afterward, I’d easily be able to walk away.
How wrong I’d been.
On the drive to my apartment, the silence continues. The knowledge that getting out of the car would signify the end of what we had, fills me with something that’s close to panic. It’s unreasonable, and I push it to the back of my mind, concentrating on other thoughts, like how glad I’ll be to see Laurie. Anything, other than him.
At my building, as soon as the car stops, I reach for the door handle. Joe is already retrieving my things from the trunk to take them to my door. I don’t want to wait around in hope that Landon would say something to change the direction we’re going. The sooner I’m away from him, the sooner I can start to face the fact that whatever it is we had is truly over.
“Rachel.”
I pause, my hand still on the door handle as I turn towards him. It’s hard to look at his perfect face, the sensational body clad in another beautiful suit, and not feel excruciating pain at the fact that I’ll never get to touch him again. My mind floods with all the things I want, making me emotional. I want to him to tell me that he wants to see me again. I want to tell him that I wasn’t thinking right when I demanded that our arrangement would last only as long as the trip. I want him to tell me that we have something that’s much more than just sex. I want confirmation that I’m not the only one feeling something I didn’t plan to feel.
“Yes, Landon?” How I manage to keep everything I’m feeling out of my voice, I have no idea, but I manage to sound like I’m not dying inside at the thought of leaving the car, of leaving him. I even manage a small smile.
His eyes linger on my face. “About this past week…”
I pull in a sharp breath. Here comes the goodbye. This is where he would tell me that it was great, and dismiss me with a few nice words. There’s no need. He already said goodbye when he left my room last night.
“It was perfect,” I say quickly, interrupting whatever it was he wanted to say. I don’t want to hear the words that’ll tell me that he’s done with me. “Last week was exactly what I needed.”
He nods, then turns away from me. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
I open the door, then pause, and some instinct makes me turn back to him, lean over and place a light kiss on his cheek. His hand is resting on his knee, and I notice the fingers flex, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Goodbye Landon.”