Page 51 of Breakneck
“What about the poor weekend cook?”
Lothair waved a dismissive hand. “He’s in the staff kitchen and knows better than to snoop around.”
Right. Lothair often had guests with whom he had sex in various parts of the house at unpredictable times. It was what he was doing when we first met, and I had been disgusted. Now, the reminder made me sneer with self-deprecation.
I’d been seduced. Easy as that. It couldn’t be undone, so I might as well enjoy the rest of the weekend. Could I pause my conscience and revisit my ethical values on Monday?
Apparently, I could.
He prepared breakfast naked. I appreciated the view even as I worried about his private parts while the oil sizzled around the eggs in a pan. He managed without mishap, and we ate in companionable silence.
By the time we made the second round of coffee, it had stopped raining, and Lothair suggested we drink it on the sofa on the patio.
“The cushions will be wet,” I said.
But he shrugged and walked through the glass door, heading out. Surprised, I found the outdoor lounge covered with a transparent plexiglass roof. Lothair hit a switch onthe wall, and the roof began sliding back in segments, disappearing into a narrow opening above the door.
“It has sensors. When it rains, it pulls out automatically.” The childish grin on his face had me smiling back.
“Cool.”
“I know, right?”
He sank into the sofa and patted the cushion next to him, eyeing me over his mug of coffee. The fact that he was still very much naked was messing with my head. Not that my towel was doing much to cover me up.
I stared at him sprawled there, godlike but so at ease and content, with that ever-present smug smirk adorning his face. His violet eyes scanned my body, and he licked his lips.
How the hell had this man picked me apart so quickly?
“Are you going to fuck me now or after lunch? Cause I need to prep for that.”
Shaking my head, I sat beside him and took the mug from his hands. I set it on the coffee table and fisted his dick. It hardened in my palm, and I stroked it up and down, watching as Lothair closed his eyes, smiling.
“Mmm. You know what,” he whispered, “do whatever you want.”
I wanted to tease him. Drive him crazy and make him needy and desperate—pay him back for everything he’d done to me.
I wanted to lick his collarbones and bite his nipples, nuzzle the grooves between the muscles on his stomach, and I wanted to sip the precum from his slit until he bucked and whined and begged for mercy.
But I’d get to that in a minute.
First, I wanted to kiss him some more.
He tasted like coffee and dragon, and it occurred to me we could go flying together again. I’d suggest that later.
He kissed me back earnestly, tugged my towel away, and caressed my ass. I played with his cockhead, rubbing my thumb over his slit and smearing his precum around.
“Terry…” he mumbled against my lips.
I both loved and hated it when he called me that. It was like he was too close to me but not close enough.
“What?”
“Will you let me suck your dick again?”
He asked like I’d be doing him a favor, but the expression on his face was anything but pleading. He looked like he’d fight me if I told him no.
But I couldn’t for the life of me come up with any reason to tell him no. His mouth on my dick this morning had been the best feeling since I’d found out what sex was.
