I moaned as he drove into me harder, his hands spreading me open to him so he could hit me even deeper. My ni**les scraped against the bench, my body a symphony of nerve endings firing all at once. Then, his hand was beneath me, lifting my hips, his rough finger finding my greedy nub.
He f**ked me harder, his finger pad rubbing me with each thrust of his hips. I was gasping, my ass squeezing around him in time with the electric jolts of pleasure he was drawing out of me with each stroke of his hand.
“Cum for me now, Isa. Cum for me hard.”
I screamed, giving myself over to what had been slowly building inside of me since we burst through that door. My legs stiffened, my ankles pulling at the restraints as my body convulsed, my ass milking him even as he kept thrusting, pushing himself inside of me again and again and again. I rode his hand, my back arching even as my fists balled beneath me, my fingernails cutting into my palms.
“Oh, God... Isa...” he said hoarsely above me.
He smacked my ass one last time, and then drove himself into me, tensing as he held himself still. I felt him cum inside of me, his shaft twitching as I trembled around him, still reeling from the power of my orgasm. His fingers brushed over me again and again, until finally, I went limp against the bench, spent and sweaty and unable to take any more.
His hand pulled away, and then he was gently backing out of me, the tip of his c**k making me groan as it stretched me one last time before slipping past the rim. I lay there, sleepiness threatening to spirit me away while I heard the sounds of Mr. Drake washing up in a dark alcove at the side of the room.
A warm, soft washcloth ran gently over my body, cleansing me from behind. I sighed as he worked, carefully washing my folds and cheeks, before finally patting me down with a soft towel. Then, he was kneeling before me, undoing the cuffs from my wrists, and I realized I could stand.
He helped me up, and I stood, feeling limp and boneless from our lovemaking. He kissed me gently, cupping my face in his hands.
“Come to bed with me?”
I nodded, and kissed him back, losing myself in the simplicity of being with him, here, like this, away from prying eyes and disapproving mothers. Away from the too-expensive collar and the staff waiting to drive him wherever he wished. Just here. Just us.
He carried me up the stairs to his room like he hadn’t just exhausted himself, then lay me in his bed before climbing in beside me. I snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around me, noticing with a smile how I seemed to fit so perfectly into that space between his pec and his shoulder. Like it was made just for me.
But when the lights went out, I stayed awake, staring out at the city lights, far below the bedroom windows. Did I fit into any other aspect of Chase Drake’s life, or was it just my own foolish hopes that kept me coming here? Did I fit into that party tonight, or, worse, into that long line of brokenhearted women Lex warned me about?
Did I fit that spot, or was I just as out of place as I felt when I stood next to him in those borrowed clothes?
And if I didn’t, what did that mean for Chase Drake and I?
***
To Be Continued…