Page 90 of My Lucky Star
In that moment, I wanted him inside me more than I wanted an orgasm. I wanted to see him lose it, see the fine lines on his forehead smooth and all the tension evaporate. But it also felt final, like the moment of no return. I wasn’t fooling around with the movie star. I was his conquest.
His mouth grazed my ear on its way to my neck and his fingers kept teasing me through my underwear, then slipped underneath again, getting closer and closer. For a moment, I couldn’t think at all, only close my eyes and watch the fireworks as his touch built up a tsunami of pleasure within me. A strand of his hair fell across my face and filled my nose with his spicy scent. The scent of Istanbul.
He’d made it through my defenses, layer by layer. Every touch that fired up my body sent a secondary ache to my heart. The beauty of his full attention, the perfection of that fleeting moment, made me ache as the pleasure mounted and finally took over. I whimpered. Something about more, or yes. Or something else incoherent.
“Aria, can I?”
I cracked my eyelids. “What?”
The sound of the condom wrapper sobered me up a little and I understood. “Yes!”What a funny question.
He filled me, almost to the edge of pain, and pulled me up so I sat in his lap, achingly full, beautifully anchored, throbbing like I was coming apart at the seams.
“Let me see you.” He held my face in his hands, kissing my cheek right below my left eye. The liver spot, I thought. My makeup must have worn off. I would have been embarrassed, but there was room for only one thing in my mind – the pleasure radiating from my core. Only a little more friction.
He slid his fingers under my bottom, reaching further than I’d expected, applying pressure as he bucked his hips, thrusting a bit deeper. Once. Twice. My mouth opened but no sound emerged.
I’d never come even close to this position, not that I could remember trying. I couldn’t remember anyone else, like my mind had been wiped clean. It shouldn’t feel this good, my brain insisted, but my body knew better, rocking against him until the pleasure reached its peak. I dug my nails into his lower back as my insides coiled and uncoiled and the universe rearranged itself. I was vaguely aware of the sounds he made as he came, pulsing inside me. Hugging me.
Eventually, the waves turned into gentle laps and he pulled away, discarding the condom. I crawled under the covers, but the lull of satisfaction eluded me. When Cem’s arm slid around my waist, I shivered. “I’m still a bit turned on,” I confessed. “I don’t know how that’s possible.”
His eyes sparkled. “Give me a minute.” The bed rocked as he rolled over onto his side. Or maybe the whole boat did.
I laughed. “You can’t be ready to go again in a minute.”
“No, but this guy is.” He touched my lower back with something.
When he turned it on, I knew. “A vibrator?” I turned around to look at the little silver bullet in his hand.
My fingers flew up to my face as my gut twisted. “How many women do you bring in here?”
He smiled evasively. “Some.”
“And you’ve used that with...” I swallowed, trying to rearrange my thoughts. Was I overreacting?
“No. This is brand new. I always throw them away with the condoms, to be honest. I ordered a few.”
He went back to open the bedside drawer and picked up two unboxed ones. I stared at them.
Cem turned off the vibrator and put it away with the boxes, then pushed me back on the bed, burying his face in my neck. “What’s this about?”
I had no answer, but I couldn’t help the hollow feeling in my belly. I’d always known I was one of many, but I’d chosen not to think about it.
“Tell me about those women.” My voice cracked, but I forced myself to look at him. The truth couldn’t be worse than what I was imagining. Could it?
He gave me a pained look. “What do you want to know? They were mostly women I worked with. I met a couple of them at a nightclub. They were attractive and willing. Some liked vibrators.”
“Did they sleep here?” I let my head sink into the pillow, trying to imagine the Turkish ladies lying in my place, gazing at the sky. Gazing at him. Speaking fluent Turkish.
I waited for the sting of jealousy, but it never arrived. I only felt the distance between us, like he’d retreated behind a glass. A cloudy TV screen.
“Yes. It was usually late, and we fell asleep. Then I called them a cab in the morning.”
“No breakfast?”
“I don’t usually keep breakfast foods around. They’d go bad.”
I nodded against the pillow. “So, one-night stands? You have a routine of one-night stands?”
