Read The Gentleman Has Left the Building Online

Authors: Lucy V. Morgan

Tags: #romance, #england, #london, #male pov, #romance adult contempory

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BOOK: The Gentleman Has Left the Building
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There was only
one reason she'd brought me to a guest room: she shared this
apartment with her fiancé. I stuck to the floor when I realised,
and my nerves warred nausea.

“Rhys?” Leila
slid off the edge of the bed and came to embrace me. “Is everything
okay?”

I stiffened.
“Yeah…um. Where is he?


He
?”
She gave an awkward little smile. “I’m allowed, remember? You won’t
be suddenly punched in the face, I promise.”

My hands
slipped to the tops of her buttocks; they curved right into my
palms. A lovely fit. Argh.

“I’m not really
used to all this,” I confessed. “Not that it isn’t good. You’re
great. Gorgeous, in fact.” I squeezed her arse and she moaned
softly. “Absolutely gorgeous…”

“Shh.”

Another kiss,
intrepid on my part. I was mashed so hard against her that I half
thought I’d need my passport. All the while, she melted and swayed,
following each lead I dared to make.

“Just. One.
Thing,” I uttered. Peck, lick, kiss. “This three point code. Was
Aid being serious?”

“Oh. Well…let’s
see.” She began unbuttoning my shirt. “No marking me. You know, no
bruises, lashes, bites. Carpet burns.”

I had never
been harder than I was at that moment, and my cock twitched as she
arched one eyebrow.

“No
swallowing," she purred, "in the interests of health and safety, of
course.”

I feigned a
pout at that one. The last button popped; she worked the shirt off
my shoulders and stroked my muscles with wide eyes. (Kick-boxing,
my friends. It‘s good for more than a drunken game of Mortal
Kombat).

“And the last
one?” I croaked.

She took my
upper lip and sucked it, teasing my tongue with hers. “No
anal…unless he’s there to supervise.”

That was it.
Fuck this. The gentleman has left the building.

I pawed her
dress off and cursed at her bra strap while she laughed. Her
knickers were soft and satiny, black, and I dropped on my knees to
press my face into them. Fuck…she smelled good. Hot, wet. I suckled
at her lips through the fabric.

Somehow, we
backed on to the bed and she was splayed beneath me, all pooled red
ringlets and pearl-nippled peaks. I pinned her hands above her
head--which went down well, judging by her whimpers--and did my
best not to mark her lush breasts, but fuck me, it was hard.

I remember that
after a while with my ex, that sex had become mechanical. Even in
the early days, she was too self-conscious to submit like this and
accept my attention freely. I had tried to warm her. Break the
walls down. I never got to that place where you’re grinding each
other into the debris, but now…Leila broke when I kissed her, I’m
sure of it. Maybe even a little before. I was the one doing the
seducing here…and I wasn’t sure when I’d gotten so confident, but
woah.
She likes it when you tell her what to do
. I hadn’t
even needed to say these things out loud.

With her
fingers in my hair, I eased her knickers down and dropped her heels
on the carpet. She was naked except for the lace-topped hold-ups,
and her thighs tapered towards a shaved, creamy mound.

“Rhys…” She
moaned, writhed on the bed. “Look what you’ve done to me.” Her
thighs spread slowly.

Breathe,
breathe. Don’t choke on the air. Breathe!

“I’m all
swollen for you…”

Oh, she was.
Her clit peeked plumply between her fingers and the mouth of her
pussy was poppies and gloss.

“Gorgeous,” I
mumbled. Her stocking caught on my nails but my hand joined hers
eventually, thumbing her wet pink bud. “I think…I need to eat you
all up…”

“Ow.
Please.”

I learned the
rhythm of her hips quickly. Driving lessons. She bucked and
squealed when I licked beneath her clit hood, her breathy yelps
reserved for my thumb. When she begged me, I curved two fingers
into the clutch of her pussy and slowly, slowly dragged. There was
the pornographic giggle again; it was euphoric as it spilled from
her, like a mockery of a prayer. The gospel of Leila.

Amen to that,
fuckers.

Her thrusts
slowed as she got close. I only noticed because she was suddenly
sopping wet and it pooled inside at the bend of my knuckles. I
flexed once, twice, three times…that set her off. Her clit mashed
against my tongue and I barely avoided knocking my teeth out.

This was
something else I’d been denied--not just in enforced celibacy, but
with the ex. The moment where a woman stiffens, heaves as if the
air is weighted down, wraps her thighs round your head and--

“Rhys,
ow…d-don’t stop, please…ow…!”

That
.
Ahh.

She fed my
confidence. I feasted on hers. Yummy little madam. She tasted like
the dirty cocktails that gave me the same kind of arrogance on a
Friday night at uni, and as I moved up to kiss her, we savoured it
together. She panted into my mouth.

I grinned. “I
want you on my lap.”

“Oh…you do…?”
She smiled as well. Flushed and breathy.

“Uhuh.” I
jumped back to undress and then tasted panic beneath her scrutiny.
I’d forgotten about this bit, too: the part where you show a girl
your cock for the first time and watch for scowls and winces. Then
I had shoes to kick off, a condom to locate--

“In the
drawer,” she said, gesturing. “Take your pick.”

“Oh. Cheers.” I
snatched a packet without looking and rolled it on with a snap
which should have hurt.

If it did, I
didn’t notice.

Leila heaped
pillows behind me and lowered herself between my crossed legs. She
ringed her fingers round my cock, testing the girth of it and
sending shivers of white-hot pleasure through my groin. A tiny,
focused furrow of the brow sounded her silent approval.

“Don’t tease
me,” I mumbled. “Just…”

“Fuck you?” Her
hands moved to my shoulders and she bumped her clit against my
cock, whimpering as it bobbed heavily. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” Or I
wouldn't be responsible for the consequences.

She pressed
herself down on me, swallowing just the head. God, it was hot in
there. Sticky.

“How about
I
fuck
you
?” I said, staring up at her. We exchanged
the kind of knowing glances that made our eyes glaze; I wasn't
really asking her a question.

Now she took
the rest, inch…by…in…ch…until I filled her. I know I did--the
stretch was blissfully constricting.

And she thought
she was going to make me do all the work.

I shoved her
hips down, grinned at the way her eyes shot open, and began a
measured, punishing fuck. She couldn’t stay still for long. I kept
hitting her cervix and the discomfort made her suck the air in.
Normally, I’d have slowed for that. Checked on her. But that was
the thing; she
liked
it. Her longest whimpers and loudest
moans came from the strokes that were harder than I meant them--
every time I lost control, she was delighted. Before long, we were
kissing again and she was rolling right into my thrusts.

If the driving
lessons taught me anything, it was how to tease her pussy. How to
listen for the tick-tock time elapse in her breath and know just
when to ram it home. Truth be told, I’d put her in this position
because it was the only way I’d last long enough to get her on to
her back. But oh, making myself wait...it was worth it. The most
intense pleasure, I see, is found on the razored edge of
restraint.

She moaned in
surprise when I tossed her over. Her hair splattered the pillows
like scarlet graffiti and then she was mine again, stocking-clad
legs on my shoulders and her ambushed little pussy struggling to
grip my cock.

“Rhys, Rhys--”
The word pierced the air.

She liked
saying my name. Hell, I liked the sound of it coming from her.
Leila wanted to moan a name that was new and unfamiliar; I saw it
start in her eyes, stutter from her lips and echo above her breasts
in crimson mirages. I just loved her loving it--even if the reason
was that.

When I was sure
she was coming (again. I'm awesome), I let go. Scissored into her
like I owned her flesh, even just for a second. The orgasm started
in my thighs and shot through the rest of me, spurting into her,
and the relief of it made me cuss loudly. When I shuddered to the
end and shook on my arms above her, she wore a lazy, smudgy
smile.

“Are you all
right?” She stared.

“Yes. Yeah.
God, yeah.” I bent to catch her mouth. Mmmph. Post-orgasm kissing…I
might have missed that most of all.

Reluctantly, I
eased out of her and laid her legs back on the bed. She curled
against my chest, her fingers swirling over my nipples.

Dear room: any
time you’d like to stop spinning, it‘d be useful. Okay?

“That was
delicious,” she murmured.

“It was fucking
incredible.” My words were so cracked that we both burst out
laughing, and it didn’t slow until I filled my hands with her ass
cheeks, scooping her drenched pussy on to my thigh.

“You’re
very…enthusiastic…”

“And you’re
gorgeous.” I inhaled her; still cinnamon-sweet, faint undercurrent
of heat and come. “Did I mention that?”

“Once or twice,
but I‘ll let you off.” The heel of her hand worked steadily against
the muscles of my belly, easing the knots. “You’re not bad
yourself, you know.”

“Really?”

She grinned.
“Why do I think I brought you back here?” She grinned.

“Fortune cookie
told you to?"

“You’re
handsome, Rhys. There was something about you, I…” She pinched my
hip in a soft little dance. “Something bubbling under the
surface.”

“I suppose
that’s one way of putting it.” I caught her hand, held it up to the
light. Swivelled the heavy emerald back to its correct
position.

“You don’t like
that, do you?” she whispered.

“It’s nice
enough. I’m not much for jewellery.”

“You know what
I mean. It bothers you.”

I swallowed;
this wasn’t really a subject I wanted to indulge her in, not in the
afterglow of such an amazing session.

But she did
ask.

The words are
heavy, grating. “My girlfriend--
ex
girlfriend--cheated on
me.”

“Oh. I’m
sorry.” She came up on one elbow and brushed the hair from my eyes.
“That must have been tough.”

“Well. I
suppose...I suppose I don’t understand how anyone can be okay
with…” I felt like such a hypocrite after the way I got off on her
saying my name.

“With
sharing?”

“Yeah.” I wound
a ringlet of her hair around my finger. It was smooth and bouncy.
Undeniably feminine.

“See, there’s
the thing. What I do, that’s sharing. What your girlfriend did…that
was betrayal. You can’t share what you’ve promised elsewhere; it’s
not in your hands to give.”

“You make it
sound awfully simple.”

She pressed her
lips together. “Oh, learning was messy. Trust me there.”

“I like your
mess.” I said the last word against her tongue as she kissed me.
Giggled on me.

“I bet yours is
just as yummy.”

“Plenty more
where that came from, darling.” I really just said that, didn’t I?
Buggery.

She started up
and I pounced, tugging her back beneath the sheet.

“I’m just going
to get drinks,” she protested. “I don’t know about you, but I need
one.”

“I’ll get
them,” I said, reaching for my trousers. “You stay here and keep
the bed warm--you look too good in it to get up.”

“Well, I won’t
argue with that.” She fell on the pillows in a mock starfish.
“Second door on the left, okay? Just help yourself to the
fridge.”

I zipped my fly
up. “What d’you want?”

“Water’s
good.”

“Okay.” I knelt
for a kiss to punctuate my exit. “Back in two.”

A few seconds
before I got the door open, I noticed that the light was on. The
living space was huge -- all lofty ceilings, polished units, white
sofas. The big fridge in the corner was one Harper and I had
coveted before we settled on our uber-trendy Smeg. And--

He cleared his
throat.
He
cleared his throat. There was a blond, older man
on the far sofa, the kind of icy Nordic bastard who could freeze
you with a glare. He eyed me watchfully, his head cocked as he
surveyed the stranger in his lair.

Because it did
suddenly feel like a lair. One that belonged to him.

“Good night?”
he said.

“Great,” I
croaked.

“I should think
so.”

The bastard was
trying not to smile at me. I couldn’t fathom it. He should've been
taking me down with a swift right hook. Hell,
I
wanted to
punch
him
. What do you say to a bloke when you’ve just
fucked his fiancée with his blessing? Where was this bit on my sexy
party etiquette Google search...?

“You’re a lucky
man,” I managed.

He gave a swift
nod. “So are you, by the sounds of it.”

“Um…thanks.”

“Ah.” Leila
appeared behind me in a cloud of tousled hair. My shirt was
buttoned haphazardly over her bare breasts and silky knickers. “I
thought I heard two of you.” She padded over to greet the man with
a kiss. “Rhys, this is Joseph. Joseph, Rhys--he was my present from
Aidan.”

They looked
disgustingly good together. He had at least ten years on her,
though it was only visible in the shadows; he was broader and
taller, sharper. Their combined confidence was startling and I was
nauseous again as he patted her backside.
Mine
, said little
whomp of flesh.

“You can sit
down, you know.” Leila smiled on her way to the fridge. “It’s
okay.”

“Uh, I’m good.”
I perched on the arm of a chair, still not knowing where it was
safe to look. Definitely not at the Goblin King over there, that
was for sure. I’d never been so grateful for a cold beer and I
swallowed most of it in three long gulps.

BOOK: The Gentleman Has Left the Building
2.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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