Laurelin Paige - Hudson

My moment of compassion—if that’s what it was—disappears and I am left hardened. “If that’s what you need.”

“I do. And I need a shower. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. In there.” I point out the way. “I’ll bring you some towels.”

She disappears into the bathroom, and I head for the linen closet. As I pile two fluffy towels into my arms, I consider my mood. A few minutes ago, I was unbalanced and apprehensive. Now, I’m…numb. Like I am most of the time. Honestly, it should be an improvement. The strange way I’ve been acting around Alayna is unsettling.

Yet underneath the numbness, there’s something else. Something tugging at the corners of my guard trying to get out. Feeling of some sort. It’s pleasant, in a way. But also not at all.

Suddenly I want that more than anything. The something else. It’s a compulsion that impels me into the bathroom where I set the towels on the counter. I strip and then I’m sliding in the shower to join her. It’s not what she wants, she said she needed time, but here I am, unable to help myself.

She turns into me with no surprise on her face. Then her lips are on mine and any doubt I had about my actions disappears. I kiss her long enough to let her know I’m in charge. When I’ve left her breathless, I wash her. I explore her body in all the ways I haven’t yet. I speak to her like this. I have so much that I need to say to her, and this is the only way I can. The only way I know how—rubbing her, caressing her, learning her. I leave no part of her untouched.

When I brush my fingers past her clit, she moans and leans into me.

I suppose it was a bit manipulative—getting her to this point. I’ve aroused her and wound her up. For once, though, my actions were not purposeful. I’m here because I can’t not be.

“Hudson.” She says my name and it’s infused with as much confusion as I feel.

None of this has been planned or premeditated. I don’t know who I am in this moment. I rely on instinct, thrusting two fingers inside her pussy. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes!” She gasps. “I mean, no. I want you.”

There’s a part of me that wants to sit on the bench in the walk-in shower and figure out everything going on in my head. I ignore that part and focus on the other part of me—the new part that wants only to please and tease and adore the woman in my arms.

“You’ll have to wait,” I tell her. “I’m enjoying making you wait.”

I work her, squeezing her clit and fucking her with my fingers until she’s moaning and writhing and digging her nails into my shoulders. Just as she’s about to come, I pull away. “I need to be washed too.”

I’m playing with her now, but it’s in fun. When was the last time I played like this? Without any malice? Without any need to examine? I’m not sure that I ever have.

She plays back, and I wonder if it’s new for her as well. Something about the way her hands touch me, the way she tentatively brushes my cock—I’m certain it is new for her. She strokes me once, twice. At the third stroke, I can’t take it anymore. Playtime is over.

Or it’s just beginning.

I lift her up. Her legs wrap around me and I press her back against the shower wall. I take her mouth in mine as I thrust inside her. I’m not gentle. I’m fierce, I’m forceful. Because those are the things between us. Those are the things we share. Vague intangible energy that pulls us both toward each other, into each other.

I pump her like this, quick and hard, even as she clenches down around me. I come fast after her.

We’re quiet as I towel her off and help her dress. She has to go now. She has to get to work. I wrap a towel around my waist and walk her to the door.

Despite our silence, it’s not awkward between us. I sense that she’s…absorbing. As I am. There’s a lot to take in. Though I can’t begin to even process any of it. So after I’ve kissed her and sent her on her way, I decide to not process. I turn my brain off and simply let the evening settle around me.

I’ve never stayed overnight at the loft after having a woman here. I prefer to be in my own bed without the lingering scent of sex and female. With Alayna gone now, however, I can’t make myself leave. I throw on a pair of boxers and climb into the sheets that still smell like her.

Before

Christina swept her tongue along my crown, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Stop fucking teasing,” I hissed. A blowjob in a hidden alcove at Cipriani 42nd Street hadn’t been in my plans for the evening. But when my one-night fling from the summer arrived at The Pierce Industry Annual Thanksgiving Eve Charity Gala with her lips painted in Fuck Me Red, my agenda had been altered.

“Tell me what you want then, Mr. Pierce?” She was playing at some hot fantasy where she was my employee and I was her boss. It wasn’t necessary as far as I was concerned, but it got her mouth on my dick without much work, so I went along.

“I want you to fucking suck it. Like a good girl.” I flicked my finger at her cheek. “Open up.” She complied, shaping her lips into an “O” before wrapping them around my hard cock. “Yeah, like that.”

I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of her warm, moist mouth cocooned around my dick. There were few things that I enjoyed in this world as much as getting head. It was the only situation where I could sit back and think completely of myself. I didn’t care if the girl was turned on or enjoying it. Examinations of human nature were put on hold. Fellatio was about simple pleasure—my pleasure.

With one hand pumping the base, Christina drew her mouth up and down over my swollen cock. Her other hand reached below to fondle my balls. She wasn’t very original with her play, but she had spirit. And honestly, even mediocre blowjobs are fucking fantastic.

As for her tempo…it was on the slow side. That could be remedied. I tangled my hands into her hair, messing up her carefully coifed bun. It took her a moment, but soon she relinquished control and that’s when things got good. I drove into her at an aggressive speed. With each thrust I hit the back of her throat, the tickling on my crown sending me closer to the brink. I glanced down at the erotic sight—her eyes watered as my cock fucked her mouth. Even as I pounded harder, faster, she allowed me to control the experience.

“Keep up, Christina. Fuck me with your greedy little mouth.”

Her lips tightened around me. She was so willing, so submissive. How strange that she didn’t find it completely debasing. She struggled to catch a breath and the hard floor had to be a bitch on her knees. The demeaning nature of the situation only added to the eroticism. My climax came rushing toward me. I had time to warn her, but I didn’t want to give her a chance to pull away. I spurted into her, holding her head in place so that she had no choice but to swallow.

“That’s a good bitch. Swallow it all.”

Like a champ, she even licked me clean.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Jesus, that had felt good. A perfect distraction from my parents’ dismal casino night.

After I’d tucked myself back into my tuxedo pants, I helped Christina to her feet. “Very good, Ms. Brooke. I suppose I’ll have to approve your vacation request after all.”

She wiped at her lips before giving me a seductive smile. “Thank you, Mr. Pierce. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”

“I think that’s all, Ms. Brooke.” If she wanted me to return the favor, it wasn’t happening. I’d been there and done that, and there were plenty of fresh cunts at the event to choose from if I decided I wanted to get off again before the night was over.

However, it was never good to burn bridges, so I tugged her close and whispered at her ear. “I have to get back to this boring party. But if I find another chance to get away…” I bit at her lobe.

“Right. Got it.” She was smiling when I released her.

Mission accomplished.

She pulled at the few pins that I hadn’t already dislodged from her hair, gathering them into a pile in her hand. “You need to get out there and practice for when you’re hosting this event. It won’t be long now, I’m sure.”

I did have plans to work for my father over Christmas Break. He’d already given me preliminaries on some of his accounts. “When I’m in charge, I’ll own the nightclubs we party at.” Made much more sense than spending a fortune to rent out another venue. Especially when the evening was for charity. I’d seen the event expenses. It was hard to imagine there was anything left to donate after all the bills were paid.

“Smart thinking, boss.”

I cringed. Now that we weren’t immersed in the fantasy, the remnants of it left a bad taste. It was time to excuse myself from my date of the moment.

“Have you heard anything from Celia?”

That question, however, kept me interested in Christina for a bit longer. “Not since summer.” Not since that night she’d fucked my father. I’d made sure to avoid her until she’d gone back to school in California a few days later. Having been at school myself, I’d heard little of her and had often wondered how my experiment had affected her semester. This was a chance to find out. “Have you?”

“I went to see her a couple months ago,” Christina said, picking up her handbag from the floor. She tucked the pins into a side pocket. “She was a fucking mess.”

Now that was interesting. “What do you mean by mess?”

“Partying. Drugs. She was doing a shit-ton of cocaine when I saw her. And talk about slut—she spread her legs for any guy who gave her the time of day.”

I wiped at my mouth, trying to decide how to evaluate the information. It was probably a coincidence. Her behavior couldn’t have been because of me. Could it?

“That’s too bad.” I actually meant it.

“Rumor has it,” Christina narrowed her eyes at me, “that she was nursing a broken heart.”

“Are you blaming her self-destruction on me?” The idea didn’t sit well. While I’d never cared what happened to my subjects after I’d concluded my experiments, Celia was different. She was family, in a way. Again I resolved myself not to scheme anymore with people I knew.

Christina chuckled. “She’s a big girl. She’s responsible for her own destruction. I just thought you’d want to know.”

I shrugged. I did want to know, but I didn’t need Christina knowing that.

“She’s in town for the holiday.”

I shrugged again.

“You know, Hudson? You’re kind of an asshole.”

It was my turn to laugh. “And you’re just figuring this out now?”

“No. I knew.” She pulled her fingers through her tangled hair. “And I still let you fuck me. So obviously I don’t really care.”

Too bad I didn’t give a shit about people. Christina and I might have made a good team.

As it was, I was done with her. I paused, devising a way to escape. In the end, I simply nodded toward the restrooms. “You should clean yourself up. Have a good Thanksgiving if I don’t see you again.” I left her before she had a chance to respond.

Back in the main room, I found myself scanning the casino tables for Celia. It was silly to think she’d be at the event. Her parents weren’t even there, and Celia wouldn’t have come without them, but I wanted to see her. Wanted to know if she was really a mess. Something in me needed to know that she wasn’t.

I wasn’t expecting to find the answer I was seeking. My survey of the place, though, led me to another sight I hadn’t been expecting—my mother, climbing onto a blackjack table.

Goddammit.

She’d been a drinker most of my life, so I was used to all her modes of intoxication. Usually, she kept her shit together in public. Whatever made her go overboard tonight, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But someone had to rescue her, or at least keep her from embarrassing herself or the family.

My father was already helping her down when I arrived at the scene. He smiled, like it was all in fun. “Sophia, now how many times have I told you that isn’t the way you play twenty-one?”

The handful of spectators laughed. Jack Pierce, shithead that he was, always did have a way with a crowd.

My mother blinked a couple of times, as if trying to clear her vision. “There you are. I was climbing up there to get a better view of the room so I could figure out where you’d wandered off to.”

She could still speak without slurring her words. So she wasn’t as intoxicated as I’d imagined.