Page 54 of Mr. Wrong
I think I say his name.
Instead of telling me to be quiet again, he hooks his thumbs under my ass cheeks, opening me wider so he can do it again, this time pulling back, almost to the tip before thrusting back into me.
Lex fucks me hard, the sharp slap of his hips against my ass rings in my ears, each stroke of his cock finding and touching a place deep inside me that has me pressing my face into the mattress to cut off the desperate sounds that are coming out of me. One of his hands slips forward, his fingers grazing the place where we’re joined to press against my clit, swirling and teasing the slick, swollen nub until I’m shaking and moaning uncontrollably, tilting my hips against his, meeting and taking every hard pump he’s giving me and asking for more.
“Lex.” I moan his name when I come, unable to keep it inside as a blast of heat rushes through me. Shoots down my spine so hard and fast I feel like I’m spinning, my pussy gripping around his cock so tight he groans, low and deep in his chest.
The hand gripping my hip lets go, seconds before I feel it in my hair. Fist wrapped around the length of it, Lex pulls, asserting enough pressure to bring me to my hands and knees while he fucks me through my orgasm, the hand between my legs shooting upward to wrap around the back of my neck so he can fuck me even harder. Take me even deeper.
“Fuck.” He pushes it through clenched teeth, the hand in my hair and his grip on the back of my neck tightening as he gives me a final thrust that has his cock jerking and spasming deep inside me while he comes.
As soon as it’s over, he lets me go and I fall forward, so spent I’m barely able to turn my head to keep from smothering myself.
Almost instantly, Lex pulls away from me completely, moving to sit on the side of the bed, head down, hands clamped around the back of his neck, elbows braced on his knees like he’s upset. Like he’s having a hard time accepting what just happened. I’m about to say something undoubtedly stupid when he drops his hands and reaches down to snap his discarded clothes off the floor.
“G’night, Ellenore.” He barely glances in my direction when he mumbles it as he stands up and leaves.
Thirty-Six
Ellenore
Like every morning,for the past five weeks, I wake up alone, to a flood of text messages from Derek.
Derek:I’m looking forward
to seeing you today.
Derek:I miss you, Elle.
Derek:Google maps says
it’ll take me forty-five
minutes to get to the coffee
place you insisted on. I’m
going to see if there’s a
place closer to my hotel.
Because if the last five weeks in LA have taught me anything, it’s that forty-five minutes is the minimum travel time to get anywhere and he isn’t going to find anything else closer or to his liking, I fire back a single text.
Me:knock yourself out.
He texts me back almost immediately.
Derek:I can’t wait to get this
whole mess behind us and get
back to New York where people
are normal.
Resisting the urge to remind him that he’s from North Carolina and has been in New York with thenormal peoplefor a whole four months, I set my phone aside and push myself out of bed. Like every other morning, when I get up, there’s coffee waiting and my cat is eating. Even though I’m supposed to be meeting Derek for coffee in a few hours, I pour myself a cup because even though I’m partial to tea, I’m addicted to Lex’s coffee.
Or maybe I’m just addicted to Lex.
