The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

It was in fact, Finnegan. He sat on a large leather couch near the back of the arena, his powerful legs spread wide with one arm draped along the back of the seat.

A glass of amber liquid, whiskey, probably, dangled from his other hand. I would know that imposing figure anywhere. He dripped of power and that rare dominance he seemed to exude without having to life his finger.

What was my boss doing here?

A blonde woman sat next to him, her fingers trailing up his forearm, her body angled toward him like a sunflower thirsting for the sun, which was hilarious considering Wolfe was cold as fuck, except of course his body. There was nothing cold about his gorgeous, magma hot body. The black mask covered his face completely, just like everyone else’s, but I knew.

I knew the way he sat, all confident and commanding, like he owned every inch of space around him. I knew those broad shoulders, the way his shirt stretched across his chest. I knew those hands, the same hands that had gripped my hips on the plane, that had made me cum so hard I’d seen stars.

And I knew those eyes.

Even from across the room, even through the mask, I could see the sharp green of them as he watched the blonde’s fingers trail higher. So he came to clubs like this? Was that blonde his regular partner like Annette and whoever the hell Zeus was?

Jealousy slammed into me like a physical punch to the gut. I should be the one trailing my fingers over his shoulders like that.

The blonde leaned closer and whispered something in his ear. He didn’t pull away, just took another sip of his whiskey, his gaze sliding lazily over her body.

Fuck that.

I stormed toward a standing gold mirror nearby and checked my reflection. The mask covered my face perfectly with delicate swirls that made my eyes look darker and more mysterious.

My hair fell in waves over my shoulders. The coat hung open, revealing the black lace teddy that barely covered my tits. I hadn’t used my perfume tonight because I was paranoid about remaining anonymous and boy was I thankful for that.

Behind me the woman getting her pussy and ass pounded by two men threw her head back in a loud shriek.

"I’m cumming!!!"

My lips curved into a smile. So will I, lady. My eyes found Wolfe again. He had fucked me once. He was going to fuck me again.

I shrugged off the coat and let it fall onto a nearby chair. Cool air hit my skin and my nipples peaked harder against the lace.

I could do this. I just needed to disguise my voice.

I thought back to childhood, to some animated character from those late-night shows Annette and I used to sneak to watch. Jessica something, she had that sultry, breathy voice that had made even cartoon characters seem hot.

I could manage that.

As if on cue, the music changed into something slower and the bass vibrated through my chest, down between my legs.

I circled around the back of the couch, my heels clicking against the floor. The blonde was still talking, her hand on his arm.

I leaned down from behind him, his scent immediately teasing my nose, and let my breath ghost over his ear.

"You look bored," I purred, pitching my voice lower than my normal tone.

He stiffened, turning his head slightly toward me. I ran my hand down his shoulder, over his chest, feeling the hard muscle under his shirt. My lips brushed against his neck lightly and my pussy clenched. He smelled so fucking good.

"And how would you know?" He murmured, turning fully to face me. Those emerald green eyes gleamed behind the mask. The blonde next to him huffed but I couldn’t care less.

Would he recognize me? I counted to five, holding those green eyes that were usually cold and let out a breath when he didn’t seem to recognize me.

My other hand came around, fingers trailing down his other shoulder, over his chest, then lower. His cock already strained against his slacks and my mouth watered. His abs tensed under my touch as I moved down, down, until my palm pressed against his thigh, so close to the massive tent his cock had made in his pants.

Let’s see how indifferent you are now, Mr. Wolfe.

God, I’ve wanted to touch him like this for two months. Every single time he was a jerk, I’d wanted to grab him by the tie and kiss him, just to remind him it was me on the plane.

Would he fuck me if he knew it was me? No he wouldn’t. I had spent two months around him, and I knew the man who had fucked my brains out on the plane was not the same man who ordered my ass around and belted out strict rules back in the office.

"Tell me, Ares," I whispered against his ear, reading the name on his bracelet. "Do you like it when someone takes what they want?"

His grip tightened on the whiskey glass.

I squeezed his thigh hard, digging my nails slightly through the fabric before cupping his cock.

A low sound rumbled from his chest.

The blonde stood up with a huff and stalked away.

"I’ve been wet since I saw you," I purred against his ear, making my voice soft and breathy, fondling his cock greedily. He was so thick and hard against my palm. "Thinking about your cock drilling my slippery wet cunt, until I milk every single drop of your cum, would you like that, Ares?"

Finnegan gave another grunt, spreading his legs wider, his eyes still fixed on my face as I stroked his cock. He was so close,too close. What if he recognized me? A bit of panic flared through me, I tried to pull away but his hand clamped over mine, raising my wrist up to read the name of my wrist band.

He chuckled. "The goddess of sex?"

"One and only," I flashed him a grin, strutting slowly in a catwalk around the side of the couch until I stood directly in front of him now. His eyes lifted, traveled up my legs, over my hips, lingering on my tits before finally meeting my gaze. Heat blazed in those green depths.

Music pulsed through me as I moved, rolling my hips to the bass pulsing through the floor. My hands slid up my thighs, slowly, deliberately, over my hips, traced my waist. I stepped closer, between his spread out thighs.

"What if I told you," I purred, sliding my hand up his thigh, closer to his cock and leaned down so my lips were right by his ear, "that I came here tonight hoping someone would pound my pussy so hard, I would forget my name?"

"We can’t let your hopes be dashed now can we?" he murmured, hissing when my hand brushed over his throbbing cock. He shifted, spreading his legs wider. I turned around and pressed my ass back against his cock, grinding down until I felt every thick inch of him through his pants stabbing against my pussy.

Yes. This. This was what I needed. His free hand landed on my hip and gripped hard. I bent forward, all the way up with my ass in the air, giving him a perfect view of the tiny scrap of lace barely covering my drenched pussy.

"See?" I glanced at him through my legs. "I’m all soaked for you."

I’ve been soaked for you for months.

His eyes were locked on my pussy as I pushed the lace aside and worked a finger into my sopping wet pussy, sinking it down to my knuckles.

My tits ached at the look on his face. He groaned, reaching out to grab a handful of my ass and squeezed. Then in a flash he ripped the lace thong barely covering my pussy apart.

I squealed when he picked me off the floor and dropped me on his lap. My bare, streaming cunt right above his cock. I closed my eyes when his cock stabbed against my clit through his pants sending delicious hot waves of pleasure up my spine.

"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch. My hands found his thighs. I gripped them, used them for leverage as I started riding, rolling my hips in circles and dragging my pussy over his cock.

"You’re so hard," I purred. "Is that for me? Or were you already hard thinking about fucking that blonde?"

"You," he growled in a strained voice, wrapping his arms around me, grabbing at my tits as I humped his cock like a bitch in heat while his other hand came up and wrapped around my throat.

He can’t know. He can’t ever know I was Abigail Kellerman. But what was one little lie just so I could get another taste of him? Just one more.

"Keep moving," he growled against my wrist.

"Dance, Aphrodite,"