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THEY TOOK VIVIAN’S car, but she asked Damon to drive. By the time they reached her building, anticipation hummed through her veins, and his promise danced along her skin. He made minimum contact. A hand on her back, as he held the car door open. A brush on the arm, as they stepped into her place. Never more than a whisper of heat through her clothing.
She kicked the door closed, stepped out of her heels, and watched him set his shoes next to them. The two pairs looked so right together, next to her entryway. She shook the random thought aside.
He stepped behind her, pressing close, and gripped her hips. His breath caressed her cheek, taunting in its tenderness, when he said, “Go kneel on the edge of your bed, back to the door.”
The show she’d put on earlier—stripping, dancing with Ginny, showing off for his private audience—heightened her arousal. Combined with Damon’s slow build-up and promise without delivery, it sent her thoughts into a muddled spin. But drawing the moment out was as much a part of his gift as anything, and she knew the results would be worth it.
She heard him follow, his stockinged feet brushing the carpet, but he kept enough distance that she couldn’t feel him. She did as she was told and knelt on the edge of the bed, ass resting on her heels, as she looked straight ahead at the wall.
“How many years has it been, since we broke up?” His voice was right next to her ear, closer than she expected. The calm words squeezed her already hammering heart.
“I don’t know.”
“You do.” This wasn’t like the other night. There was no teasing. No playful tone. Simply his low, balanced voice.
He knew as well as she did; she was certain. They’d both been twenty-two. The entire thing was burned in her memory, like most of their relationship. “Fourteen years.”
“Fourteen. Sounds like a good number to me.”
She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. Wondering what he had in mind stole her reason and set her thoughts adrift. A familiar sound clinked behind her. A belt unbuckling. Her mind sharpened, honing in.
He pressed a palm to her back and pushed her forward. She caught herself on her wrists, and the new position left her rear in the air. Rough hands shoved her skirt over her hips. She whimpered at the friction and sudden exposure.
“You’re not wearing anything under your skirt.” His even tone was gone, replaced with the throaty voice that sent excited chills through her. “I know you were wearing panties before you stripped.”
“I didn’t want to put them back on. I like the cool air on my bare skin.” She wiggled her ass to emphasize her point.
The first lash from the belt struck one cheek, and she whimpered at the shock of pain and adrenaline that sped through her.
“Count to fourteen. Take your time. That was one.”
God, she’d missed this. “Two.” She spoke clearly and was rewarded with the sharp sting of leather, marking her flesh. She sucked in a deep breath. “Three.” Another lash. The vibration made her already wet pussy lips slide together. “Four.” Crack. Her nipples pressed into her bra, begging for attention, and her clit sent daggers of want spiking through her. By the time they reached fourteen, her head spun. Her behind was numb in places, and euphoria sparkled through her vision, clouding it with stars.
Unlike the other night, when teasing added to the buildup, tonight Damon stayed mostly quiet. She barely had time to catch her breath, when she heard his zipper slide down. He grabbed her hips, and that was the only warning she had, before he pushed inside her, driving his cock in to the hilt. His rhythm was slow and steady, as he pulled almost all the way out, and then plunged back in again. He shoved a hand under her shirt and dragged the elastic of her bra over her nipples. The new rough touch jolted her senses alive again, and she ground back into him. When she tried to increase the pace, he spanked her.
“Not yet.” His voice was jagged and raw. He kneaded her breast and scraped a thumb over the tender skin, pinching and rolling in time to his thrusts.
“Please, baby.” For her, the anticipation had been mounting since she stepped into the private room at the strip club. She had a feeling it was the same for him.
He jerked her upright, pressing her back to his chest and thrusting at a maddeningly steady pace. Each pinch and squeeze and push deeper buzzed along her skin. It was all culminating, but it wouldn’t push her over the edge.
He covered her hand with his free one, and moved her palm to her stomach. He nipped at her shoulder and then bit harder. “Not yet.”
She whimpered and squirmed under the multiple stimuli. Her thoughts were fuzzed, and the room danced around her. She struggled to find her voice. “Please let me come. Dancing with that girl tonight... It only turned me on because you were watching. I knew I was going home with you. No one else fucks me the way you do.”
He guided her hand lower, until it brushed her slit. He worked her fingers on both sides of her clit, held her hand in place, and applied pressure. When they stroked her swollen bud, orgasm ripped through her. She screamed his name when she came, bucking against his cock, trying to get closer to each touch and jerk away from it at the same time. He slammed against her harder, driving deep, striking inside, while his hips collided with her tender ass.
One climax blended into the next, and she lost track of her world. His familiar grunts reached her ears, and still the intense rhythm continued. He came hard, spilling inside her, and finally slowed and eased off.
He kissed the edge of her ear, his breath ragged. “And no one says my name the way you do.”
She smiled and leaned back into him, letting him hold her upright.
He slipped out of her and made himself comfortable on the bed. She joined him and curled up by his side. Her ass would be tender and red, when the natural high wore off, and depending on how distinct the marks were, she might not be able to wear skirts at work for a few days. She didn’t care.
Neither of them spoke, and that was fine with her. They’d want to take their clothes off before they fell asleep, but that could wait. What she needed most right now was to know he’d be there in the morning, holding her.
****
DAMON WAS SURPRISED the next morning, when he woke up and Vivian was nestled against him. In college, when there had been a them, she’d only ever lain in bed this long if she was basking in the glow from the night before. “You’re awake,” he said quietly.
“Mm-hmm.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“Sore. Comfortable. Wonderful.”
The lilting calm of her voice made him smile. He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll make breakfast, and we’ll talk about why you tracked me down last night.”
She nodded. “Do you have plans this weekend? Or are you flying out today?”
“I’m here until Monday, and I’m spending as much of my time as I can with you.” Something occurred to him. “Except I probably need to grab my rental car, and a change of clothes or two from my hotel.”
“After breakfast.” She pressed back into him, butt grinding into his cock and dragging it the rest of the way to life. “And a shower.”
He cooked, and she made coffee. There was no hesitation in the kitchen, and the familiarity both warmed and bothered Damon. She still kept her cabinets organized the same, and the dance they’d done back then, when they spent the night together, flowed through him as easily as any instinct.
When the dishes were in the dishwasher, she tugged him into the bathroom and turned on the water in the large shower. He eyed the removable massaging shower head, which had several settings. “Do you get a lot of use out of that?”
“Only when I fantasize about you.” She stripped off her clothes and dragged a nail down his chest.
He knew it was an exaggeration, but he liked the flattery too much to call her on it. He shed his clothing as well, and nudged her toward the glass door. “Lucky you, the real thing’s here now.”
She leaned back into him, long enough to say, “Luckier than you know,” before stepping under the hot jets of water.
It scalded his skin at first, but he adjusted quickly. They took turns soaping and cleaning each other, until he pulled her back into him, dipped his fingers between her legs, and fingered her till she came.
She returned the favor by dropping to her knees, and wrapping her full lips around his cock. When he couldn’t take the teasing any more, he spurted against the back of her throat, she swallowed and licked him clean.
They only left the house long enough to grab his stuff, and he picked up Chinese takeout on the way back. He felt like they were in college again, fucking the weekend away, not caring about anything else. It was a lot easier than admitting, when Sunday rolled around, this all had to end. Neither of them mentioned their pending conclusion. That this was only temporary. Not through their John Cusak marathon—including the movies he did when teenage heartthrobs made formulaic eighties comedies. Not through cold leftovers they were too hungry to heat up, after Damon stripped Vivian down and fucked her with her back to the balcony window. And it never once came up when they finally collapsed in bed, sometime around one in the morning, talking about anything and everything under the sun...
Except work and the fact it would separate them again, when reality sank in.
Damon drew his fingers through Vivian’s hair, as she drifted toward sleep. His opinion from Friday afternoon had shifted. He never once thought yesterday was a bad idea, and he no longer wondered if he was addicted to her. There was no question; he was hooked, and it would be a long time before the cravings stopped. If they ever did.