It’s the finality of the music with its mournful tones that remind me of the past. I want to stay there with him, but pain is like a lance in my chest. It has me running away as the song ends on a trumpeted chord. I don’t look back for fear I might turn around and run back to him. I make it out onto a balcony breathing in frosty breaths. Despite the chilly night, the air is hot with desire and I’m gasping for breath. I hold on the frozen railing looking down as the DC’s foot and car traffic continuously pass despite the late hour.
Why can’t life be simple? I want to give up control and just feel, but I’m afraid to lose myself again. The pain nearly killed me before. I’m not sure I can do it again.
I hear the faint click as the terrace doors are shut. A quick glance over my shoulder and I see curtains on the window paneled door segment us from the crowd inside. He approaches from my blind side. A warm body, hotter than the sins I run from, presses to me. I begin to face him, but his hands are on my throat and chin, directing me to face forward, his message firm and clear.
He hasn’t uttered a word, but I know his touch. His other hand snakes across my right fabric-covered breast and manages to undo the body tape on the left that holds the material secure to my skin. He slips his fingers under the fabric to caress the left breast. Just the briefest contact causes my nipple to peak. He nuzzles the back of my head as he presses his hardness against my bottom. I find myself pushing back. It could be the wine, but I’m tired of fighting. I need this more than I want to admit.
The music floats in through the seam of the door and I find myself grinding against him along with the tempo. He shoves a leg between mine and spreads them. His possession is all encompassing as his hand moves lower from my breast. I wonder how long he’s been watching me tonight. Could his intense desire be born out of jealously?
The slit in back of my dress plays an important role when his hand slips between my thighs and cups me as if to brand me. He easily parts my bare folds and isn’t gentle when he thrusts two fingers inside my core. I can feel the wetness flow down onto his hand as he pumps into me a couple of times.
My head falls forward and I grip the railing tighter, the coldness forgotten as I allow his invasion. The cars on the street down below don’t matter. I want to feel for the first time in far too long. I moan and suddenly his fingers are gone. His middle finger reappears to silence me first before gliding over my bottom lip. A second—maybe two—then he slips the digit into my mouth, forcing me to taste my arousal on his fuck me finger. I don’t even care as I wrap my lips tight around it before he pulls it back out.
He bites my neck, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to send early warning shocks through my center. He takes hold of my throat again as he works what I think might be his zipper. He lifts my leg with a hand underneath my knee and positions me. I’m surprised when his length bumps against my opening and I feel that he’s somehow managed to protect himself and me from what comes milliseconds later.
Rewarded for all the time I waited for this moment, I gasp as he pushes into me. His hand comes up from my throat to cover my mouth as if the noise police will show up. He fills me in a way I didn’t think I would remember. I bite his finger—none too gently— when it gets too close to my teeth. He doesn’t make a noise. He continues to move in me, forcing the railing to make contact with my clit in a way that starts the countdown to my orgasm.
With a hand to muffle my cries, he wedges himself deeper inside me with every punishing stroke. He bends me slightly forward and the angle allows him to hit that spot that shoots off my first orgasm like a firecracker. He isn’t done. He rolls himself inside me to stroke my g-spot over and over until I’m building for another explosion I’m not sure I can handle. His hand leaves my mouth and somehow he has my dress parted so that he’s able to cradle my center and move the pad of his thumb over my clit as he continues to fill me inside. The scream that escapes my throat is muted by the note the trumpet hits in the crescendo of the song.
Then he is gone, leaving me to almost crumple to my knees. The force of both orgasms weakens me to the point that gravity begins to pull me down. He spins me around and I get a flash of hot azure eyes before he guides me to my knees with his larger than life cock in front of my face. Condom gone, two fingers that still taste of me are there to open my mouth as he guides himself inside. He sweeps my hair aside as I give into his silent demand. I hollow my cheeks and tighten my lips around his thick length. Even at this angle, he can’t fully sheath himself in my mouth.
I swirl my tongue as I bob up and down him. His grip tightens in my hair almost painfully and it’s not long before I taste the effects of his orgasm shooting to the back of my throat. I see the muscles in his jaw clench as he muffles his own sounds of pleasure. I swallow everything before he finally pulls out. He neatly tucks himself back in his pants before drawing me to my feet. He spins me around and dusts me off.
At first, I’m too afraid to face him. My lips still tingle from everything we just did. Then I hear the patio doors open, and I turn around. I’m too late to say anything; his dark blond head has already been swallowed by the crowd. I stand there wondering what the hell just happened. I’m literally shaking when I pull out my phone. It takes a few times before I’m successful at texting Jenna. There is no way I can stay. I feel the wetness on my legs. The lighting might be dim inside the ballroom, but I imagine my white dress isn’t as pristine as it was when I walked in. I’m going to catch a cab home and text Jenna that. I dare not make a move until I get a chime back signaling I have an incoming text.
Jenna: Wait for me.
Me: No. Stay. I’m going straight home. You have a key.
I’d given her one in case she wanted to stay out with her guy and come back late.
Jenna: Are you sure?
Me: Absolutely. I’ll catch a cab.
Jenna: Text me when you get there.
Me: I will
The party is in full swing. I’m not the only person who’s being naughty and uncaring of peeping eyes. I worm my way through the hedonistic crowd. Mandy was right about this party. And what I’ve done isn’t me. I don’t have sex in public places. To top it off, he left without so much as a goodbye or even a thank you for the fuck. We were alone. He could have broken the ‘be silent’ rules if he wanted.
Still, he’d never been like that with me before. How much did I really know about him anymore? Maybe there’s a reason behind the new name. I would have never guessed he would have come to a party like this. Then again, who am I to judge? I’m here.
I push through the doors where two large men in suits stand on either side. I hit the elevator button and pray I will be alone. Luck is on my side and I make it down to the lobby without another soul getting on. I’m practically running to the street with my hand raised for a cab when a cool voice calls out.
“Cate.”
I turn and Ted is standing in front of an open limo door.
“Do you need a ride?”
I almost say no, but I find myself nodding.
“Come,” he says waving me over.
ON THURSDAY, IT’S BECOMING clearer that I may have to push my trip to see Drew back to Saturday. I know if I go on Friday, I won’t get any work done and I have two papers due on Monday. It kills me to do it, but I force myself to make the call.