Page 50 of Her Every Fantasy

Our interactions might start off under some pretext of Mortimer business, but they inevitably veered towards the personal. Towards whys and wherefores and bitterness washed downby vodka shots when done in person.

I wasn’t down for any of that tonight, even over the phone. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in Savvie, inhale that incredible scent concentrated at that sweet juncture between neck and shoulder. And nothing short of the world burning down was going to stop me.

I typed one last, quick response.

Still not a great time. Let’s talk tomorrow.

And then, because I knew she wouldn’t stop until she’d stamped her control all over itby calling me at the stroke of midnight, I added:

Office hours. Ten a.m. Singapore time.

She replied with a middle finger emoji that surprisingly made my lips twitch. That twitch widened into a smile of anticipation when I walked into my bedroom and saw the trail of clothes leading to the bathroom.

Tossing the phone onto the bedside table, I swiftly disrobed, leaving my own trail beside hers as I snagged a condom and headed for the bathroom.

She was toying with the shower settings, the sound of the powerful jets masking my entrance. It gave me a chance to watch her unobserved.

The rich abundance of her curls.

Her beautiful dark skin.

The elegant grace of her neck and the way she held herself up no matter the circumstances.

The noble slant of her shoulders.

The strong line of her spine.

And perhaps my favourite part of Savvie—her flared hips and gorgeously plump arse.

It’d been a feature of many wet dreams and would probably fuel many more after I was done playing my part in fulfilling her fantasy.

After which she would leave.

I blocked out thoughts of her departure and joined her. Her soft gasp when I slid both arms around her waist made my cock harder, my balls heavier. Unable to resist, I slid my face into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.

‘You smell fucking amazing.’

‘I smell of spray paint and shrimp satay.’

‘Like I said...amazing.’

She laughed, and just like that the tightness eased from my chest.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bryce

BEFOREMYHANDScould glide up to cup her perfect breasts, she turned in my arms. ‘Wonder what you smell like,’ she mused, sliding her arms around my neck and rising on tiptoe to drag her nose over my throat.

I awaited her verdict with a half-smile.

‘Smoky aftershave. A touch of spray paint. Angst. And horny. Definite whiff of horniness about you,’ she finished with a teasing bite that made my dick throb.

‘You don’t need to smell me to know that. I’ve got the evidence right here.’ I pressed my pelvis into her soft belly and was instantly rewarded with her tightening nipples.

‘Hmm.’ One hand slid between us to boldly grasp me while the other plucked the condom from my fingers. ‘So you have.’

Her eyes square on mine, absorbing my every blink and breath, she pumped me slowly, torturously, and smiled when a deep shudder rolled through me.

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