I lost myself in her. In the way she bounced. In the way her pussy molded to my cock. I slammed up into her, driving her to an edge I wanted to pour her over. Her hands fisted my hair. She pressed my face into her tits, and my teeth made their mark on her. I sucked her skin deep, until black and blue marks were left behind. I felt her pussy suck my cock in, holding it within its vice grip as her entire body locked up. Juices dripped onto the chair beneath me. Her scent was overpowering. Gone was the dessert and the pork roast and the decadent champagne.
The only thing I wanted to devour was her.
“Phil! Yes! I’m cumming!”
My arms cloaked her back while her face fell into the crook of my neck. She shook against me, curling herself into my form as I held her close. I groaned and grunted into her skin, releasing myself into her depths. My balls pulled up and my cock released, happy for the first time in days. Threads of cum coated her walls, painting her with my mark. My fingertips curled into her back. My legs locked up and shook. Her breathless moans and spent sighs were music to my ears as she dropped into me.
She shook against my body as I held her close, kissing her shoulder and neck.
I kicked my pants off and picked her up into my arms. My cock sliding from her released a fountain of juices that trailed from the balcony to the bed. I slid Elizabeth between the covers, watching as her eyes fluttered closed. She was spent, exhausted, covered in the lightest sheen of sweat as I brushed her hair from her eyes.
I went to go retrieve my pants from the balcony, and I didn’t even get to the bathroom before her soft, even breaths could be heard across the room.
I locked the bathroom door behind me and stood in front of the mirror. I tossed my pants and belt into the corner, then rid my body of the rest of its clothes. What the fuck had I been thinking? Regret pooled in my gut as I stared at the man in the mirror. He looked refreshed. More alert. More awake. But he felt like shit. What kind of man slept with a call girl? It didn’t matter that Elizabeth was beautiful, or smart, or funny. She still got paid to sleep with me. Did I not have any more self-respect for myself than that?
I cleaned myself down in a shower, trying to wash her from my body. I scrubbed and I doused. I turned the water up as hot as it would go. I washed my cock over and over again, trying to rid my body of her scent.
But the second I stepped into the bedroom to slide into bed, I was coated in her again.
Lying next to her all night reminded me of what we had done. I couldn’t believe I had fallen into her trap. Every time I closed my eyes, she was there. Her tight pussy. Her sweet juices. I woke up every time regretting not tasting her on my tongue before the two of us ended our little session. I got up and walked around several times during the night, trying to clear my head of her. I figured that if I at least fucked her, I’d get her out of my system. That my cock would stay at bay and stop attempting to control what was going on.
But I couldn’t have been further from the truth.
The second the birds started chirping, I woke up and slid away from bed. I pulled on some running clothes and jogged out the front door, taking a lap or two around the massive estate. I needed to work her out of my system. I needed to focus on Cristoff and finally get that asshole to talk business. Maybe now that Elizabeth and I had slept together, he would sense it and get to work.
Because that was why I was in Vienna in the first damn place.
I didn’t know how many miles I ran that morning, but I was drenched with sweat by the time I got back to the room. I made my way up the steps, heaving for air as I pushed into the room. I looked over at the bed and saw Elizabeth wasn’t there, and a sigh of relief escaped through my lips. If I saw her all sleepy and sexy and spent from our activities the other night, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to resist her.
That was how weak she had made me. Which meant distance was my only friend.
I rolled over that morning and felt the bed beside me. Cold, empty, distant, like the man Phillip was. I stared at the ceiling as my pussy throbbed between my legs, a stark reminder of the evening before. I closed my eyes and groaned, tossing the covers off my body and standing up. But the second I tried to walk, my knees buckled underneath me.