Page 10 of Perfect Satisfaction

Arek crawls up my body, reaching for the small packet he dropped on the nightstand. I’m sprawled out like a shipwreck in the middle of his bed as he sheathes himself, but tingles start again deep in my womb as I watch him stroke his cock as he slides the thin layer of latex over himself. I hum my appreciation.

He smirks and my core tightens in anticipation. “Sula?”

“Yes?”

“Come here.” He holds out a hand before sitting back on his heels.

I straddle him, ass on his thighs. Arek guides his cock until I’m hovering over it. He waits a moment before gripping my hips and tugging me down until he’s so deep inside me, I whimper.

Arek rubs his hand over my stomach to soothe me before pressing down just over my pubic bone, the pressure adding a whole new dimension of sensation. “What are you doing?” I manage.

“What you want me to,” he mutters.

My nipples tighten to stone as he pulls out and pushes in, what feels like deeper than before. Sharp little movements that cause me to quiver and contract around him. Every time he moves, I feel my core ripple around him.

Arek groans before pulling back a little more.

Pushing harder.

Each time demanding, “More.”

I’m lost in him, lost in the vortex he swept me up in. All I know is I never want it to end.

Arek pounds into me, over and over, flinging me over a cliff, and I soar so high I think I see stars.

Bright shiny new stars.

When he lays me back, the contact of his skin against mine leaves me completely exposed.

Utterly enthralled.

Uncertain.

I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t know what to do.

Arek’s panting next to my ear, his cock semi-erect inside me. I tentatively smooth my hand from his shoulder to his hair. His head dips, and he presses his lips against my ear before managing, “My Moore.”

And my heart finds those stars again.

He wasn’t asking for more—he needed me.

CHAPTERTHREE

Financially, you have to ask yourself what’s more important—what you want or what you need. They’re not always the same thing.

Can’t live without your daily Starbucks run? The new season’s Louboutins? Saks’ fall line? What are you willing to give up when you can no longer shout, “Charge it!” so cavalierly?

Think about that the next time you e-pay your bill with a whopping 21.9% interest rate each month.

—Moore You Want

Two Months Later—Late February

I twirl around Arek’s Brooklyn apartment.It’s so much less pretentious than the corporate penthouse I negotiated on behalf of Moore Software Worldwide a few weeks ago. Way less ostentatious than the mausoleum I was forced to live in for the latter half of my teen years. Spinning around until I’m close enough for him to catch me, I leap into his arms and declare, “I love it.”

He lifts me up and spins me around even more. “It’s not much.”

“What it is, is lovely,” I reiterate.