Page 129 of Duplicity

‘Well, I am a professional.’ He looks far too pleased with himself.

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ I demand.

He shakes his head with pride. ‘Fuck me, you’re cocky.’ Then that same dark head is dipping to my left breast so he can suck one greedy nipple into his mouth. His pull is strong, the shot of arousal instantaneous.

‘Oh my God oh my God,’ I chant as he finds my right nipple with his fingers and pinches it hard. I grind against him, shoving my breast into his mouth, desperate for as much sensation as I can chase. Jesus Christ, I’ve missed this. Missed Brendan’s dangerous mouth and skilful fingers. I luxuriate in the unearthly pleasure of writhing in his lap as he tends to me.

‘I need your fingers,’ I gasp as the devilish things he’s doing to my breasts threaten to undo me. ‘And your dick.’

He pops off my breast with an agonised groan and comes up for a hard kiss, his ravenous tongue devouring my mouth, his hand sliding down over my stomach like an obedient little fuck toy, fingertips brushing the thin lace strip covering my outrageously needy pussy only to stop dead. He pulls away from the kiss, and I freeze.

‘Bren? What’s wrong?’

His mouth twists in distress. He meets my eyes hesitantly. ‘Last time I tried to pull this stunt, I?—’

Oh shit. He’s thinking back to that moment in that lunch meeting, the one I’ve tried my hardest to bury.

‘Jesus, this is nothing like that,’ I tell him. ‘I didn’t even make the connection.’

‘I did, though. I’m not sure I’ve earned this.’ He looks so devastated that I cup his cheek, stroking the soft hair of his beard.

I attempt to focus on the issue at hand and not on my screaming, weeping pussy. ‘Honey, listen to me. You have earned this with every single hour you’ve spent by a hospital bed, these past few weeks. You’ve earned all of it.’ I drop my voice to a whisper. ‘It’s just you and me here, doing what we do best. I want this. I want all of you, and I promise when you touch me down there, you’ll seeexactlyhow much I want it.’

‘I can’t get rid of the memories, though,’ he says, shaking his head as if hoping that’ll loosen them. ‘The things I did to you that week, the way I acted—it makes me sick to my stomach.’

‘There are a lot of memories from the past couple of months that I wish I could erase forever,’ I tell him now. ‘Believe me. But they’re behind us, and we’ve both grown.’ I look into his beautiful blue eyes, as tortured as they are aroused. ‘I love you,’ I whisper. ‘I trust you. I know that if I tell you to stop, you willalways, always stop. But you promised me once that if I begged you not to stop, you wouldn’t. So please,don’t stop,because I need you.’

Slowly, so slowly, he hooks his fingers into my thong and drags it to one side. I shiver at the fleeting brush of his touch where I need it. Then he holds my gaze as he slides a couple of fingers through my wetness and pushes them deep inside me. He keeps me in place with a hand clamped around the back of my neck.

‘I love you so much,’ he rasps. ‘If you need me, I won’t stop, I promise.’

I let my head fall back as he finger-fucks me good and hard, my body noisily sucking him in each time. But it’s when he presses his thumb to my clit, exactly where I need, that I spiral heavenward. It’s been too long, and I’m so in love with him, and he’s too good at this, and I don’t want to be strong or self-controlled; I just want this first orgasm to zip through me like the life force that it is. I want it to consume every cell in my body.

‘Harder,’ I beg. ‘Harder, please.’

And my beautiful man obliges. His thumb rubs decadent circles over me as his fingers thrust as deep as possible. I arch back, taking it, taking every last, filthy ounce of this pleasure he’s giving me, I douse myself in it like a rag soaked with lighter fuel.

And I allow it to set me on fire.

I come so hard on and around Brendan’s fingers that I have to squeeze my eyes shut against the black voids where my peripheral vision should be. Sight is overrated, anyway, because the only thing that matters is this feeling, this astonishing pleasure whose flames are licking at every last inch of my body, inside and out. I ride his hand so damn hard I’ll probably dislocate the poor guy’s fingers.

As my orgasm floats away and I open my eyes, Brendan’s face is a picture. Never have I seen a man look more awe-filled.

‘Take me out,’ he says, and I oblige, harnessing whatever shambolic remnants are left of my fine motor skills to undo the rest of his shirt buttons and fumble with his belt buckle and get his trousers open. His dick, huge and angry and weeping precum, is making a break for freedom over the waistband of his boxer briefs when I unearth it.

Honestly, my main coping mechanism these past few weeks has been studiouslynotthinking about what Brendan’s packing, but holy fuck.

The damn thing is even bigger than I remembered.

BRENDAN

‘Wait,’ I bark gruffly, attempting to reach past Marlowe to my desk drawer so I can grab a condom. I’ve scooted my chair back too far, and I can’t—quite—reach?—

She stops me with a hand on my arm. ‘No.’

‘No?’ I stare up at her stupidly. Her nakedness, and gorgeousness, and declaration of love, and her orgasm,that fuckingorgasm, have all addled my brain to the point that I’m officially more chimp than man right now. Has she changed her mind, or…

‘No condom,’ she says. Her face is flushed, her eyes are still glassy, that blonde hair of hers is tumbling over her spectacular tits, and I’ve never in my pathetic life seen anything so perfect.

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