Page 91 of Maneater
“Rowan.” I breathe heavily, my pussy throbbing, aching. I’ve lost count already on how many times I’ve come, but he’s right: it’s not enough. I’m empty and needy. I won’t feel satisfied until he slides inside of me and fills me.
“You know,” he says conversationally, bending over me and pressing a kiss to my belly. “Someone is out to ruin this hotel.” My heart pounds, not from his words but from his lips circling my nipple now, sucking before blowing on the wet peak. My back arches with pleasure. “And while I don’t think it’s you, I think you do have something to do with it.”
My eyes narrow on him, and I raise an eyebrow, trying to maintain whatever higher ground I possibly could have.
“Why would someone be out to ruin your hotel?”
His finger moves deeper in me, and my head rolls back a bit with the pleasure of it.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he asks. He moves further up my body and kisses me, then, finally, and I think that might be my biggest undoing after all. His lips on mine, the taste of my cunt on his tongue as it slides inside my mouth. “I think you’re here to help me find out.” It’s a quiet whisper, and I almost argue it, but then his fingers are gone from inside me, and I can’t focus on anything but the emptiness. “Tell me why you’re here,” he whispers into my neck.
And then his hips are between mine, his hard cock grinding into my clit through his slacks, and I groan. It’s somehow more pleasure than when he fingered me, when he ate me out, or when he made me squirt, and I know it’s the promise of what’s to come that has me finally giving him my confession, one I think he already knows somehow.
“I’m here on an assignment,” I whisper, and he pulls back to look at me, a wide smile spreading over his face.
“That’s my good girl,” he groans, rocking his hips into me, shifting the angle of his hips until I’m gasping his name. Like this, he’s fully in charge, and it’s a true testament to how well he already knows my body somehow. In just a few moments, I’m falling over the cliff again, coming from the pressure of his cock against me and his panting breaths and quiet groans against my neck, and nothing else.
When he pulls back, the need in his own eyes blazes. I decide the game can be over. I just want to experience the totality of this soul-consuming pleasure with him, finally.
“I’m here to figure out—” I start, but then he moves away from me, and I moan. “No! No, Rowan, I’m going to—” His smile is wide as he stands, and his fingers move to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them quickly before moving to his pants. I watch him in fascinated silence as he undresses, all taut muscles and broad shoulders, a light dusting of hair on his chest that, if my hands were free, I’d ghost my fingers over. And most impressively, his long, thick cock, the tip red with need and desire, precum dripping.
I can’t find words or taunts or confessions as he moves between my legs, hands moving to my hips and shifting my body down so my knees bend so I can lift my hips a bit. Then he’s rubbing his thumb over my clit, round and round and round.
“Are you on birth control?”
“What?” I ask, so dazed that this question feels out of place. He smiles like he finds this—me—entertaining.
“Are you on birth control? I was tested recently, and everything came back clear.” I suck in air as I finally grasp what he’s saying, then I nod. “You are?” I nod again, and he smiles wider. “Kind of important you use your words for this part, Josie. Consent and all.”
My tongue comes out to wet my lips before I nod again and finally make words happen. “I just had my annual. I’m all good. On the pill.”
He grips his cock, and I watch through my parted legs as he strokes himself, and I groan at the sight.
“So I’m good to fuck you bare?”
Again, I groan. “I’ll beg if I have to,” I say without thinking.
He lets out a loud laugh, so heavily contrasting the moment and the night, and I love that about him, about us.
“You don’t have to beg, baby,” he says, then rubs the head of his cock over my swollen cunt, starting at my clit and sliding down to my entrance before moving back up. “Not this time, at least.”
“Really? Because it’s starting to feel like I’ll have to beg you to fuck me soon,” I mumble, widening my legs as I watch him move over me, a hand on the bed beside me, the other around his cock.
“I know why you’re here,” he says, so low I almost don’t hear it. At the same time, he slowly presses the head of his cock into me. “I know you’re here to figure out what’s going on. I know you’re here to save my hotel.”
My breathing is erratic, not just because of his words, but because of his actions, because of the way I’m stretching around him, the way he’s so thick that despite the insane amount of foreplay I’ve had, I can feel that stretch at all.
“Rowan,” I mewl, hips moving to try and get him deeper. Instead, he stops moving altogether, the hand that was on his cock moving to my hip to hold me in place and keep just the head of his cock buried inside me.
“You’re here to help me, aren’t you?” His thumb moves against me from where his hand is on my hip, quick but not with enough pressure to make me come.
“I—” A sharp inhale as he swipes over my sensitive, swollen clit, and I tighten around him. At least he’s now in the same seductivetorture as I am, if the look of absolute torment that crossed his face is anything to go by. “Yes,” I finally confess. “I’m here to help you.”
His face goes soft then, his hand moving to cup my cheek.
“You’re such a good girl,” he groans, and then he slides into me all the way.
He’s long. He’s thick. He fills me in a way I’ve never felt, so completely and perfectly. I moan as he does it, something he mirrors. Once he’s deep inside of me, he holds there, eyes locking with mine, and I see it all there. The trust. The adoration. The need. The desire. The connection we’ve had for longer than either of us has been able to admit.
