The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Finnegan

I hadn’t fucked anyone since Aphrodite. It had been two weeks and I was losing my goddamn mind.

The shower ran hot, whipping down my back, my fist was wrapped around my cock, the steam barely thick enough when she materialized behind my eyes.

Red.

She was on her knees, lips stretched obscenely wide, throat working around every inch I gave her while those greedy hands stroked what her mouth couldn’t reach.

The wet slurping sounds she made, the gagging, the moaning underneath it all that she couldn’t seem to stop even when I was choking her with my cock, her face grew clearer and somehow she became Aphrodite.

"Fuck,"

My fist moved faster.

That filthy mouth. That hot, tight and perfect, her throat convulsing around me while spit and precum dripped from her chin and she looked up at me with those furious dark eyes.

Most women in Sanctuary were one thing or the other, purely submissive or putting on a performance. My Aphrodite was neither. She cursed me between moans, took four fingers and a belt and my thumb in her ass and still found the nerve to mouth off at me.

My dirty, defiant slut.

I was getting addicted.

I couldn’t wait to have her tomorrow when the club opened. I would have her back on her knees and use that throat again until she was a drooling, gagging mess, slurping all over my dick.

I groaned, gritting my teeth and fisting my glistening wet shaft faster. The shower roared in my ears as loud as my heartbeat did as I pictured finally splitting that cunt open on my cock, pounding her full, peach shaped ass until she creamed on my cock the way she had creamed on my fingers.

I threw my head back, clamping down a groan as an orgasm ripped through me. I pumped my dick harder, thick spurts of cum shooting in the air, spilling all over the floor while I let out a ragged breath, panting heavily.

I had to see her tomorrow night.

Turning off the shower, I snatched a towel off the hanger and my feet dragged out of the bathroom as I toweled off. My penthouse was blissfully silent and blissfully faraway from Victoria and Mother. Slipping into a pair of black pants and a grey shirt open at the collar with a black checkered jacket, I got ready to go to Lewis estate.

If I hadn’t met Arthur Lewis fifteen years ago, there would be less people to quell the growing ache, the anger that festered and brewed in my chest, burning and rolling with every jab of my mother and Victoria being a fucking city slut. She had never loved me. The only reason she married me was because of him. The man whose picture sat above her nightstand every damned night.

My phone buzzed, tearing me out of my dark thoughts. He’s gone. He was gone.

Henry: Finn, it’s not too late to join us in Ibiza. Look at this view. LOOK AT IT.

Three photographs followed and one of them had seagulls attacking Henry’s beard.

Finn: At least I won’t have to deal with birds at Lewis’ place.

Henry: Go suck a lemon.

I tsked, a slight smile curling at my lips and shoved the phone in my pocket.

James was usually off during the weekends. He had a wife and a baby to nurse, I couldn’t monopolize his time, though I wished I could because Connor, my other driver, shook like a fucking leaf every time he saw me.

You’d think he was afraid of me, and I hoped that was the case but no, Connor loved to yap.

"Where to, Boss? It’s nice weather this evening and I heard it’ll rain later tonight. Such a lovely day in May-"

"Connor?" I sighed, rubbing my forehead just as I reached the car. "If you mutter one more word that isn’t necessary to this drive, I really will fire you,"

I had been saying that for six months.

The rascal mimicked zipping his lips together. "Not a word more, Mr Wolfe. I won’t even say a pimp even if the sky’s falling and the police sirens are wailing for us to stop..."

With a sigh, I ignored him and slipped into the backseat, his chattering fading into the background while I tried to check in with my PI on any more updates on Red. All we had so far was a blurry shot of her at the airport and while I did have Aphrodite to look forward to, Red was... Red had unlocked something in me. I had to find her.

****

Two hours later, after a long one hour drive to Lewis estate, I was standing in his garden, eyes narrowed at my assistant, Abigail Kellerman in all her fucking glory.

I swear when I’d first seen her, I was sure I had hallucinated her. That dress on her was unholy. A sequined dress that ended several inches above her knees, her dark hair swept up revealing miles of smooth ivory neck. Her cornflower blue eyes lit up as Arthur said something I couldn’t hear over her laughter.

"Finnegan," Arthur pulled back, beaming, turning to gesture at me. "This is-"

"We’ve met," I didn’t mean to sound so... grumpy. The words simply came out that way. She arched a brow at me then turned to Lewis.

"Mr Wolfe is my new boss, Arthur,"

Arthur? How close were they, that she was calling him by his first name?

Arthur laughed, clapping his hands delightfully. "Isn’t that wonderful? What a small world,"

"Apparently,"

"Abby, this man has been my closest friend for fifteen years." Arthur kept his hand on her shoulder, beaming proudly. "And Finnegan, this woman single-handedly saved me from three terrible business decisions in the two years she worked for Morgan. You’re lucky to have her."

Did she now? Arthur would never flatter anyone. She must have really impressed him and to impress Arthur, she must be good.

I knew she was good. She had handled the deal with senator Allan like a pro.

"So I’m discovering," I murmured, holding her gaze. A memory of her drenched and wet from the rain that afternoon filled my head. She hadn’t caught a cold, thankfully.

"And this is my son Eric,"

"Oh great. Now I know the name of the guy who tried to blinden me," She teased, that playful smile directed towards Eric.

I frowned watching Eric burst and the frowned even harder, my brows snapping together when he took her arm and steered her toward the house, past me.

Her scent hit me then, and the grown deepened further. She didn’t smell like Jasmine, like she usually did.

No. This was... I closed my eyes taking a deeper breath, and a flash of Aphrodite’s supple ass pushing against my fingers filled my head.

Vanilla.

My eyes widened. Why the fuck did she smell like Aphrodite?