Eric abandons my breast and searches for my mouth. He finds me and kisses me. His tongue steamrolls me, pushy and possessive, while Marisa makes me moan, which drives him crazy.

  “Yes, sweetness, like that . . . Surrender and enjoy for me.”

  “Just for you,” I say between breaths.

  For what seems an eternity, Marisa plays between my legs while Mario pecks at my nipples and Eric kisses me. Then Mario grabs me by the right thigh, and Eric grabs the other. They sit me up on the bed, spread me out for Marisa, and offer me to her.

  Wild because she’s finally gotten what she has so long wanted, Marisa sucks me masterfully. She grabs me by the ass and pushes me onto her mouth. She savors me in a thousand ways, and I let it all happen, loving every minute. Waves of an intense, burning pleasure run through my body over and over.

  “Wet and ready for you,” I hear her say.

  I don’t know what she means, but her husband lets go of me, gets up, and vanishes from the room.

  Eric doesn’t speak. He just watches as he holds me for Marisa. She inserts two fingers into the very depths of my sex, then brings them out. I raise my hips in hopes of more. She repeats her actions, and my own juices are providing the lubrication. Her husband returns and sits on the side of the bed. He’s brought a two-headed dildo.

  “I want to see you two fuck each other.”

  When I look over at Eric, he kisses me again. He bites my lips and murmurs words of love. Marisa’s fingers continue their pistonlike action, and I moan and enjoy the moment. An instant later, she pauses and brings her playful tongue back to the center of my desire.

  “You’re so hot . . . ,” she says as she takes the dildo and arranges it between us. “Let’s fuck.”

  Eric climbs behind me. He doesn’t abandon me. He’s attentive to me and my movements. He picks up the dildo, lubes the head with his spit, and gently insinuates it into me. I feel each centimeter as it makes its way into my flesh. I moan.

  “Yes . . . like that,” Eric whispers in my ear.

  When Eric pauses, Marisa opens her legs, takes the other end of the dildo, and settles onto it. She bites her lip and mewls as she buries the dildo inside her and, in turn, farther into me.

  “Careful, sweetness . . . ,” Eric whispers.

  I watch as Marisa moves in search of her orgasm. She gyrates her hips. The dildo between us provokes all kinds of sensations in me. Marisa launches her pelvis in my direction and I cry out, but I don’t move away. Then it’s my pelvis and I going against her. The game makes it so the dildo goes in and out of both of us, injecting us each with bolts of pleasure.

  With the two of us facing each other, Marisa grabs my arms and pushes her sex toward me. She looks right at me, clenches her teeth, and groans. I’m crying, crazed, but seconds later, I’m the one who grabs her arms and squeezes. We both come, united by the dildo. Exhausted, we tumble backward.

  I close my eyes. I’m drained. Someone removes the dildo, and I open my eyes and see it’s Marisa.

  “OK, girls, now it’s our turn,” Mario says as he rolls on a condom.

  I look over at Eric and see he’s tearing open a condom package. He puts it on and takes my hand.

  “I’m going to tie you to the bed and offer you to Mario so he can fuck you. Lie facedown.”

  Without complaint, I do as he says and see Marisa doing the same. Mario and Eric tie our wrists to the headboard with the silk handkerchiefs. An instant later, I feel a lash on my ass. It burns. I recognize Eric’s hand as he grabs me and lifts my butt up in the air.

  “Open up so he can penetrate you and so I can see. You know what I mean, love?”

  I signal yes as a new excitement takes over me.

  Moments later, a pair of unknown hands takes me by the hips and begins to slowly introduce an erection into my vagina. His penis is hard and thick but not as long as Eric’s. I let him penetrate me over and over, and I moan with delight at each thrust while I hear Marisa’s breathing next to me as Eric gives her a whole lot of pleasure.

  Just thinking about the scene revs me up even more. In my mind, I see the two of us tied to the bed, our asses on point, and our men fucking us and demanding more.

  I hear Eric grunt and see him coming. Mario catches me looking and lifts me up, bombarding his thick penis in and out of me. He squeezes me brusquely, and then we finally both come. Now just beat, I’m breathing with my mouth open on top of the sheets when I feel Eric touch me and undo my hands. He kisses my wrists.

  “C’mon . . . love. You need a bath.”

  He takes me in his arms and cradles me against his chest. He kisses my forehead.

  “I love you,” he says.

  I smile.

  “I love you too.”

  What we have just experienced has left me fatigued, but his words make my heart beat faster. The Jacuzzi’s going. He sets me gently in the water.

  “Squat and hold on to the edge.”

  I do everything he says. I squat, and the water comes up to my waist. It feels so good. I hear him turn on the shower for himself. When he closes the tap, he gets into the Jacuzzi and starts to wash me. He shampoos my hair, gives me a head massage, and then gently rinses out the shampoo. He asks me to turn around. Our eyes meet. He soaps me up with his hands, and as he rinses me off, he kisses me on the shoulder.

  “There we go, love . . .”

  Eric is hard as a rock. He gets out of the Jacuzzi and holds his hand out to me. I take it and step out too. My legs are shaking, and I make him sit down on the closed toilet. I straddle him. I take his penis and guide it inside me.

  “Oh God, Jude . . .”

  “Now you,” I whisper. “Now you . . .”

  I close my eyes as his penis taps my uterus. I throw my head back and clench my pelvis. Eric gasps and I do too. His wet hands hold on to my waist, and he presses me to him. I love when he does this. Feeling his giant erection all the way up inside me is hallucinatory, and I contract my pelvis again. We both pant.

  “Like that, baby, take me . . . You’re mine.”

  His orders are the song I need to hear.

  I rub my sex against him and clench again. My sex engulfs him, and each inch of him embedded in me makes me feel as if I’m going to split.

  I lean back and Eric huffs; I open my mouth, desperate for air. We have such electricity between us. Every time I thrust, he moans. Every time he moans, I thrust. My hips become more insistent, more delirious. His hammering is more profound, more even.

  “You’re mine,” I say when I think I’m going to come, “only mine.”

  From his throat comes a guttural sound, like a roar, and I grunt. Eric embeds himself completely in me while our fluids stream down our legs. I hold on to him, and our rhythms slow and come to a halt as he kisses my hair. For a few minutes, we don’t move; we just embrace. Then he takes a towel and throws it over us. I’m shaking.

  My hair is wet and all over my face. Eric gives me a million sweet kisses. He pushes my hair away. I’m still sitting on him and can feel his erection diminishing.

  “Eric . . .”

  “Yes, love?”

  “Are you all right?”

  I can see he’s pleased I’m worried about him.

  “I’m perfect, my love, and you?”

  “Ready to drop.”

  “My punishment has been too harsh?”

  I smile and kiss him on the neck.

  “Your punishments drive me mad.”

  We both laugh.

  “I really hope it hasn’t been too bad for you.”

  “I would say . . . wonderful.”

  “Including Marisa and Mario?”

  “Including them, yes.”

  Eric kisses me on the tip of my nose.

  “I love to see you enjoy yourself, love. Offering you is a great pleasure for me. It provokes a feeling I can’t explain and . . .”

  I touch my nose to his.

  “In Germany, will we still play?”

  My question takes him by surpr
ise. It affirms what he’s been wanting to hear, and he hugs me so very happily, then drowns me in kisses.

  “In Germany, I promise you whatever you want.”

  60

  The next morning, Eric and I arrive at the office separately. He’s very emotional because of my impending transfer to Germany, as am I. Luckily, I have clothes at his hotel, and I’m able to dress there and not go to the office with the same clothes from yesterday. I haven’t yet explained to him what happened with those women the other day and have now decided to keep it to myself. In fact, nothing happened, and if I tell him, he’s just going to get angry.

  As we do every morning, Miguel and I go have our coffee before starting the workday. I’m in a good mood, and I decide to sit by the door. I know that Eric will be here any minute and he will search the place for me. Ten minutes later, the man with whom I’m completely in love comes through the door and looks for me. He then takes a seat across from me.

  Miguel and I continue chatting while I sneak peeks at Eric having breakfast. The elegance with which he butters his croissant has me totally hypnotized. Our eyes meet a couple of times. I know he’s happy with my decision to go live with him in Germany, and I have to try really hard not to laugh like a fool.

  When we finish, Miguel and I get up; Eric does the same. I see him leave, and when we get to the elevator, he’s waiting with his hands in his pockets and a very serious and inscrutable expression on his face.

  “Good morning, Miss Flores, Mr. Morán.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Zimmerman,” we say in unison.

  The elevator doors open, and the three of us step inside. We push the button for the seventeenth floor. Suddenly, I feel Eric rubbing his knuckles against mine, and I smile. It is harder and harder to be together without touching.

  When the doors open on our floor, the three of us step out, but Eric takes a different route than we do.

  “Do you think the Iceman ever smiles?” whispers Miguel as soon as he sees Eric walking away.

  “Ha! I don’t know.”

  “What that guy needs is a good fuck.”

  I crack up. If Miguel knew what I know, he would die. I decide to go along with him.

  “I’m sure you’re totally right.”

  That’s when we run into my supervisor.

  “Judith, I left various folders on your desk,” she says in her screechy voice and in a bad mood. “I need you to photocopy everything and bring it back to me. Miguel, I think they’re looking for you in your department. Come on, let’s get to work!”

  I continue my walk to my desk alone. I see the folders my supervisor left and head toward the copier. I do as she has requested and then answer several emails from the branch offices. At about eleven o’clock, I go into the archive room. I need a few documents the branches have asked for. I find myself really engrossed in them, and then I hear a voice at my back.

  “Mmm . . . finding you in the archive room stirs up a thousand desires.”

  It’s Eric, watching me from the door.

  “Mr. Zimmerman, do you need anything?”

  He very shamelessly checks out my body.

  “How about a little spin? I love how you look in those slacks.”

  I indulge him and do as he’s asked.

  “Happy now?” I ask.

  “Yes, although I’d be happier if you would undress and . . .”

  “Eric!”

  He grins, hands still deep in his pockets.

  “If you provoke me . . .”

  “That’s pretty nervy of you!” I laugh, and when he steps forward, I hold out a hand. “Stop!”

  Eric stops.

  “Get out of my archive room. I’m working, and I don’t want to get fired for doing things during work hours I shouldn’t be doing, OK?”

  Eric takes another step toward me.

  “Mmm . . . but you’re so beautiful when you work. Come here and give me a kiss.”

  “No.”

  “Come on . . . you want it as much as I do.”

  “Eric, someone could see us . . .”

  He tries to give me a mock innocent face and makes a gesture with his hand.

  “A little kiss?”

  I sigh . . . I step up to him and give him a kiss on the lips. Immediately, Eric grabs me by the waist, leans me against the file cabinets, and jams his tongue in my mouth. He devours me, and I surrender.

  “God . . . sweetness, what am I going to do with you?”

  “Well, right now, let me go,” I say in protest. “The doorknob is up my ass.”

  He releases me in a flash.

  “Are you hurt?” he asks, worried. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No . . .” I laugh. “I only said that so you’d let me go.”

  I see the amusement in his eyes. He licks his lips and takes a step back. “Let this be the last time, Miss Flores, that you incite me to do something I don’t want to do,” he says, wagging his finger at me. “Get to work and stop fooling around.”

  I watch him leave the archive room, and I smile. The way Eric makes me happy doesn’t compare to anything in the world. After I return to my desk, I see him on the phone. When he hangs up, he walks by me, and although he doesn’t look at me directly, I know he’s looked at me.

  At one o’clock, I get a call from the lobby. There’s a delivery person with a bouquet of roses. When the young man comes up and announces that the beautiful long-stemmed red roses are for me, I’m speechless. I take out the card and read the note: As our song says, “I have you on my mind, desperately.”

  I’m stunned by the card and the bouquet in my hands. Reading that message delights me. Eric is so romantic, and I would love for the whole world to know. At that moment, my supervisor comes by and notices the flowers.

  “How wonderful. Who sent me those beautiful things?”

  “These are for me.”

  She flinches when she hears that, turns around, and walks away. I pull out one of the vases we keep for when we have flowers in the office, fill it with water, arrange the roses, and put them on my desk.

  When Eric leaves his office, he’s wearing his usual serious expression, but he pauses to look at them.

  “Pretty flowers.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Zimmerman.”

  “A secret admirer?”

  I smile like a fool.

  “My boyfriend, sir.”

  This evening, when I get home, Eric arrives fifteen minutes later, and with joy and vigor, he makes love to me.

  61

  On Friday, Eric invites me to dinner at a fantastic restaurant. We agree on a mid-January date for my move. My apartment is mine. When I moved to Madrid, my father helped me buy it. After my conversation with Eric, I decide not to sell or rent it. It will be a place I always have whenever I want to visit Madrid.

  That night, in spite of the happiness I see on Eric’s face, I can tell he has a headache. I’ve already seen him take two pills. But he doesn’t want to talk about it. After dinner, as we’re leaving the restaurant, we run into some friends of his on the street.

  Eric turns to me. “Would you like it if I invite Victor to come back to the hotel to play, the three of us?”

  My heart pounds. I give my consent, and Eric grins.

  “Let me talk to him. I’m sure he won’t say no.”

  Eric and Victor step away from me and the girl Victor is with. Her name is Loli, and she’s quite charming. We talk while I watch the two men. Suddenly, I see Eric take a call, and his smile disappears.

  “We have to go,” he says when he comes back.

  Victor and Loli just stand there, but then they go into the restaurant. What happened?

  On our way home, Eric is quieter than usual. I try to talk to him, to joke around, but he won’t play along. I finally just shut up. When Eric gets like this, it’s best to leave him alone.

  When we reach the hotel, Eric orders a bottle of champagne. I take off my shoes and sit on the edge of the bed. I want to play. Eric’s proposal got me going. Eric takes
off his jacket and leaves it perfectly hung on the back of a chair. There’s a knock on the door, and my heart flutters. The fluttering stops when I realize it’s just the valet with the champagne and a pair of glasses.

  As soon as we’re alone, Eric uncorks the bottle and pours for both of us.

  “I sense my proposal turned you on. Am I right?” he asks in a cool and distant tone.

  I consider my response. I could lie, but I don’t want to.

  “Yes . . .”

  Eric nods and takes a drink from his glass.

  “You really like it when I offer you to other men, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, “I like it.”

  He sits by my side and gently touches my knee.

  “I can assure you I like it a lot too and that I hope to offer you to others.”

  “Others?”

  “Yes . . . others. I have many games I’m sure you’ll want to play.”

  I’m getting so hot!

  Eric pours me another glass of champagne and brings me out of my dreamlike state.

  “Would you like to play with a woman again?”

  Surprised, I shrug. “No.”

  “You’re sure?” he asks.

  His insistence bothers me. When I’m about to say something, he suddenly grabs my arm and stares at me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you and Marisa already knew each other?”

  That really throws me off.

  “What did you say?”

  “I want to know how often you usually see Marisa.”

  “I don’t usually see her.”

  His gaze is clouded by fury.

  “I’m not going to lie to you. She goes to my gym, and we’ve run into each other there a couple of times. Nothing more.”

  I’m about to tell him what I’ve been carrying around for a while, when Eric explodes.

  “Goddamn it, Judith! I can’t stand lies. Why didn’t you tell me you already knew her when she came to the hotel the other day?”

  “I . . . I don’t know . . . I . . .”

  Losing control now, Eric distances himself from me.

  “It would be better if you left, Judith. I’m terribly angry, and I don’t want to talk.”

 
Megan Maxwell's Novels