The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

My heart fluttered at his words. Crazy, stupid and reckless thrills shot through me.

Finnegan, who always insisted on using a condom, wanted to cum inside me.

The thought of him filling me up had me mewling as I pushed back against him, grinding my ass against his hips, taking his dick even deeper. "Yes, do it. Cum inside me. Fill me up."

His groan when he came was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. His cock pulsed deep inside me, hot cum spurting against my walls.

They clenched greedily around him, milking every last drop while I shuddered from the aftershocks of my own orgasm.

We stayed like that for a while, his chest against my back, both of us breathing hard. His arms were still wrapped around me, his cock softening inside me while his cum dripped down my inner thighs.

He pulled back slowly, his hands moving to my hips to hold me up because my legs were weak as fucking noodles.

His eyes dropped between my thighs where his cum was still glistening on my skin and he swallowed.

"You are so beautiful," he rasped in that sexy husky voice.

My heart slammed hard against my ribcage. Why on god’s green earth was he looking at me like that? I could hardly believe he had cum inside me and now those green eyes were gazing at me like I was covered in gold.

I had to say something before I did something embarrassing... Like cry, or fall to his feet.

"You just came, Finn, you would think a potato sack was beautiful right now. Post nut clarity and all that."

His mouth curved slightly. "Probably not." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You’re still beautiful."

The rapid heart beat thing happened again.

Great, along with the morning after pill, I would have to go for a check up tomorrow just to be sure I wasn’t having a heart attack.

I gasped when he lifted me off the floor and carted me to a huge bathtub in the bathroom that I hadn’t noticed before because I was too busy humping his dick.

The bathtub had to be the size of a small island. He set me on the edge of it, turned on the taps, then lifted me into the tub with him.

The warm water felt so good, a moan slipped from my lips as I sank in with him.

"Is that good?" he asked.

"Don’t talk to me for a moment. I’m communing with this bathtub."

He snorted, settling in next to me, his massive body making mine look tiny. The water was perfect. I let my head fall back against the rim and closed my eyes.

He sunk his fingers into my hair, stroking and untangling it making me lean closer into him as the water rose around us.

His hands trailed down to my shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the tense knots at the base of my neck while I made small shameless sounds.

"You’re good at this," I groaned,

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder and resumed washing my hair.

"I love this bathtub," I announced. "I want to marry it."

"You can’t marry in a bathtub."

"Watch me." I beamed up at him, my heart throwing a somersault when his emerald eyes softened, holding my gaze.

Jesus holy Christ, what was that look?

I whipped my head away, feeling my cheeks heat up and stretched my legs out instead, rambling. "I wish I could take the tub to my apartment. Annette would love it."

He went quiet behind me before muttering, "Hold on," and climbed out of the tub.

I shamelessly ogled him. Who wouldn’t?

Finnegan Wolfe dripping wet and completely naked was a view I would take advantage of. Especially with the way those yummy tattoos flex, gosh, I would hump those biceps one day.

He disappeared from the bathroom and came back thirty seconds later, still dripping and gorgeously naked, with something in his hand.

"Here," he ordered as soon as he got to the edge of the bathtub.

He reached for my hand, placing a key card in my palm and my eyes widened.

"It’s a spare key to the penthouse," he said gruffly. "You can come whenever you want."

My heart ditched the somersault and went full blown F1 racer in my chest. "What? Why would you give me this?!"

He cleared his throat awkwardly, his brows furrowing. "You don’t want it?"

"I’m not saying that, I just... What if I steal something? Or... Or I like I don’t know, maybe send terrorists to your penthouse?"

"Come on,"

"I’m serious!" I countered, gripping the key tightly, rising to my feet in the tub.

His eyes held mine in an intense levelled gaze. "I trust you. I trust you, Abigail."

Water cascaded off me, down my body, dripping back into the tub. I stepped out and wrapped my arms around his neck, the key card still in my hand, my wet hair dripping between us.

"Really?"

"Really," he whispered, his arms coming around my waist.

I searched his face, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat. Why was this starting to feel like something more?

"I trust you too," I whispered, leaning up to brush my lips against his.

The next morning, I walked into Wolfe Corporation with a spring in my step, glowing from head to toe, wearing one of the dresses that Finnegan had gotten delivered to the penthouse last night.

The floor was already busy. Kate waved at me from reception. I waved back, shifting my bag on my shoulder.

My body vibrated with giddiness as I strutted to the elevator. We had arrived together but we couldn’t be seen walking in together at eight thirty in the morning so I came in first while he waited in the car.

When I reached the top floor, I headed straight to his office to set up only to push the door open and stop in my tracks.

There was a woman standing in his office.

Her back was to me, facing the window, one hand resting on the glass. She was tall, impeccably dressed in a beige dress, her hair flowing around her shoulders.

"Excuse me. Good morning, who are you?"

She turned around and damn, she was beautiful. "I am Victoria Wolfe. You must be Abigail Ka-ke—Kellerman,"

My brows knotted in confusion, who was she?

In a few steps she closed the gap between us and took a sniff of the air. Her lips twisted in a cruel cold smile that had me stiffening.

"The girl sleeping with my husband."