Slaying Goliath (Complete)

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Chapter 8

He woke alone. His hands searched the bed and he felt his heart clench. She was gone? He sat up, swung his legs out of the bed and was about to pull on a pair of jeans and go after her, when he heard the shower. He closed his eyes and breathed again.

Who was this woman, he asked for the hundredth time? She was turning him and his world upside down. Last night was unbelievable. He knew sex, he understood it, and that wasn’t sex. That was another level. It was more than just sex. He felt like he’d made love to a woman for the first time. And maybe he had. Maybe this was making love not just having sex.

That though scared him and excited him at the same time. Belinda was someone he could fall in love with. But first he had to tell her what he did. He had to risk losing her and tell her everything. It wasn’t like he had lied. The details of ‘how’ he danced just hadn’t come up.

He got out of the bed and walked into the bathroom. The hot shower steam had everything foggy. The water was running down the shower door and the streamlets allowed a streaky visibility inside the space.

“Hey,” his voice was squeaky. He hadn’t done his morning warm up exercises yet and he’d forced it more than usual last night.

“Hi,” she blushed as she turned to see him standing naked.

She was so beautiful it took his breath away and he stood there rooted to the spot for a moment. How had this amazing woman come into his life and allowed him to be with her? She was too good for him.

He realised that he was staring at her and his body was awake and signalling it to him. She was blushing as she brought her eyes back to his face. He laughed, after what she did to him last night, seeing her blush like a schoolgirl made him grin. She was so innocent.

He pushed open the glass door and stood there, giving her the opportunity to say no. She blushed a deeper shade of red and covered her breasts as he stepped forward.

“I have to go to work,” her voice quivered.

“No?” he managed to croak out the question.

She frowned and shrugged. He took that as a yes. She turned herself into the water as he closed the door and wrapped his arms around her waist. The hot water felt invigorating, but it wasn’t as good as the effect her warm skin had on him.

“Last night was,” she breathed out searching for the word.

Amazing, he wrote the word in the steamed-up glass.

“Yes,” her fingers played on his forearms as he held her back against his chest.

Don’t go, he wrote.

“I have to,” she sounded sad.

When back? He kissed her neck as he waited for her answer.

“I can’t, not this week,” she grimaced as she turned in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck, “This case is important. This is the accumulation of everything I worked so hard to achieve. If this week goes well, they will offer me the Partnership and then I’ll be able to relax a little more. Can you give me this week?”

He nodded and hoped that she would be able to see, in his expression, that he would give her anything, anything at all, if she asked for it.

He leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back and that was all he needed. He picked her up and held her against the tiled wall. Her legs wrapped around him and he wasn’t in the mood to hesitate. He was about to enter her when he remembered that he was without condom.

He closed his eyes, he kept himself stationary, and held up a finger. And wrote the word in the steamy glass. Then he let her go and was out of the shower, he left the door open as her giggles followed him as he ran to the bedside drawer. He pulled out a length from the box and retraced his wet footprints back to the bathroom.

“I don’t have all morning,” she looked at the string of five condoms he was holding, “Actually, I don’t have much time at all.”

He didn’t want to hear that. He ripped off one of the packets dropping the rest on the bathmat. Once the packet was removed he sheathed himself, and then he was back in the same position. The cool tiles contrasted nicely with her skin and the hot water. He kissed her, the water on his face.

“Josh,” she moaned as he hovered at her entrance, “I need you. Do it hard and fast, please.”

The longing in her voice, the way she begged him, undid his resolve. He wanted to tease her make her want to forget about that job of hers. But her plea was heard by the beast in him that just wanted her to be his. His hips pivoted upwards in one movement as he buried himself inside her. He would never get used to that feeling. He fitted inside her like she was made for him. She gripped him in bands along his length each applying the perfect amount of pressure to driving him crazy.

He obeyed her. He gave himself over to the beast and held her against that wall as he slammed himself into her over, and over again. The water ran down her she had her face turned upwards as the droplets fell against her closed eyes and ran down her cheeks, down her neck and pooled in the crevasse between her breasts. His chest was pressed against her, pushing them upwards and creating a dam in the centre. His hair was wet as the shower ran down his back. It had formed little ropes of dark curls that stuck to his skin and slapped against hers as he moved.

In his head he was yelling. He was telling her exactly how much he wanted her. She was beautiful. She felt so good. She was perfect. He hoped she could read the words in his eyes because he was shouting them at her in his mind. Above all he wanted to tell her that he wanted her to be his. That he wanted to stay like this. That he wanted to hold her and never let her go. He wanted her in his bed and in his life.

He kissed that long neck of hers and rubbed his longer than usual stubble against her. She moaned her appreciation. He needed to slow down before he lost it completely. She wasn’t there yet. He was so close, but he couldn’t finish first. He needed to see that look on her face. The surprise mixed with the satisfaction. It was the most exhilarating thing he’d ever seen.

He fought for control. He forced the beast down as he slowed down the thrusts and then he made each a long drawn out event. When he had himself in check, he pulled almost out and then paused at her entrance and nudged her, holding himself back.

“Please,” she begged, “Josh, please. I need it. I need you.”

He loved hearing her say his name, especially like that. He wanted to give her everything that she was asking for but first he needed something from her.

“Say it,” he whispered against her skin. His voice hurt but he needed to hear it.

“Yours,” she cried, “Oh, Josh, I’m yours.”

He was expecting her to say ‘mine’ but this was better. This was much better. He lost control. The need for her became everything, and he buried himself deep inside her. She cried out his name in pleasure as his whole arousal was engulf by her. She pulsed around him. Her muscles clenching and holding him and then compressing him in bands all the way to his base. It was too much, too pleasurable, too amazing. He couldn’t stop and enjoy the look on her face.

His body became focused on one action, one need, one woman. His hips came back but her muscles were still holding him. This only intensified the sensation as she held him in place and he felt like he was being stretched with each thrust. Then he was gone. Nothing else mattered as his every sensation flowed into his manhood. He needed this. He rammed himself into her without feeling anything but the velvet of her and the absolute need to own this woman. He had to claim her in the most basic way. He lost himself. He thrust deep and felt his body erupted, he rotated his hips and then thrust the final time, completely emptying himself into her. His hips were forced upwards with her balanced on, straddling him but wholly impaled on his pulsating arousal.

He looked at her. Her name was on his lips. His voice had failed him. He had roared her name as she had cried out his. She would never know this, but he hoped that she guessed it.

He kissed her as he lowered her feet to the floor. He was still hard. He wanted to throw her on the bed and roll around until the sheets were as wet as they were now. He turned the shower off and had the door open when her voice brought him back to earth.

“I have to go,” she sounded as miserable about it as he felt, “I’m sorry. I can’t stay.”

He stopped, frozen in place as she freed herself from his grip. The beast inside him didn’t want to listen to her, wanted to throw her on that bed and make her forget her name, where she worked and anything that didn’t involve him. But that wasn’t going to happen.

“I want,” she paused as she trailed down to where his manhood still stood wanting more.

Her fingers touched him, carefully traced around him. He stood still as she touched him. Desperate to take her again but knowing that she was unlikely to let him. He cringed as his erection seemed unwilling to accept defeat.

“If I could,” she touched him. It was just her fingertips, but it felt like an electric current. “I can’t.”

She stepped away from him and took a towel off the rack. He stood there rooted to the spot, his body screaming at him with his need, as she dried herself. He ached with his need. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He watched her while he wished he could plead with her. He wished he could beg her for the relief he needed.

He knew it wouldn’t make any difference, even if he had the voice. She would still leave. He wasn’t going to get what he wanted. He shook the water out of his hair and took a towel. He had to wake up. He had to calm down. He closed his eyes and tried to clear the lust. He forced himself to dry his back as he left the erection untouched.

She didn’t look at him as she found her clothes and dressed. It was seven am. He wanted to talk to her. He was desperate to tell her how she made him feel. He needed to find out when he could see her again. He wrapped the towel around his shoulders, his body still wet and wanting, as he went to find the pad of paper.

I need to see you again, soon, he wrote and showed it to her as she rolled on her pantyhose.

“I know,” she whispered, “Just give me this week, please.”

I can’t, he crossed out the words, I’ll miss you.

“I come back Saturday,” she did up her skirt and tucked in the blouse. “It’s not that far away.”

He wasn’t sure if she was telling him that or reassuring herself. He personally felt like that was a lifetime away.

Is that a promise? He lifted her face so that he could see her eyes.

She smiled as she leaned in and kissed him but didn’t touch him with anything other than her lips.

I need to tell you something¸ he desperately scribbled the words as she found her shoes and slid them on.

“Josh,” she smiled after reading the words, “It will have to wait. I’m late and I really can’t be late this week.”

He stood there with the pen in one hand, the pad of paper in the other, naked and looking desperate, and he felt like an idiot. She was leaving, and he was following her around scribbling notes at her. What an idiot. What woman wanted a man who was this pathetic?

She had her coat on and her bag over her shoulder ready to go when she turned around. He felt deflated. She was leaving.

She took her hand off the door and stepped up to him, kissing him again. This time she held him so that his wet body couldn’t touch her but let him deepen the kiss, before she pulled away.

“I’ll miss you too,” she whispered, “More than you know.”

Then she was gone. The door clicked back into place and he was still standing there naked, towel on the floor, pen, pad, and no Belinda.

“Oh, Jay-man,” Drew’s voice surprised him, “You are totally screwed.”

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