Chapter 37: Fix My Cherry, Director.

Chapter 37: Fix My Cherry, Director.

Eric's POV

"What a day."

I muttered it under my breath as I poured myself a glass of wine, the rich scent rising like smoke.

The living room was dim, touched only by the warm glow of the lamp I’d switched on after dragging her unconscious body away from the stairs. God knows what kind of mess I walked into tonight.

I settled onto the couch and exhaled slowly, my gaze drifting to her sleeping body. Jade lay curled on the opposite sofa, chest rising and falling in soft, steady waves.

Her hair was tied up messily, a few strands brushing her cheek. Her small shirt clung to her like it had been designed solely to highlight how deceptively fragile she looked.

She slept like life had never touched her.

Like she had no demons.

Like she had never thrown my heart out of rhythm.

I scoffed.Yes, I’ve had girlfriends...too many for anyone to keep count of. But never… never have I felt pathetic about them.

And this girl? This particular girl? Somehow she was chipping away at everything I’d built around myself.

And for what?A moment of hesitation earlier.

A microsecond of emotion.That alone was enough to shorten my life span.

I sighed in irritation, dragging my fingers through my hair. I lit a cigarette, inhaling until the smoke burned the back of my throat. I stared outside the window as I exhaled, the night quiet, the kind that felt too honest.

Then I heard it.

“An asthmatic patient is here.”

I turned.

She was awake.

Sitting upright.

Hair tied, cheeks flushed, wearing that small, ridiculous shirt that looked like a body-hugging mini gown. I cursed under my breath. Because yes....she was sexy. She looked sinful without even trying.

But I hated her.

I hated everthing about the chaos she carried around. And for once in my life, I genuinely wondered why she was given such sexiness.

What purpose did it serve? To torture men?

“Is that a thank you?” I asked coolly.

She blinked. “Oh. Pardon. Thanks… for helping.”

I didn’t reply. I just walked into the kitchen, grabbed a cup, poured hot coffee, and handed it to her.

“It’s not dawn,” she said, frowning. “Why are you giving me hot coffee?”

“I wasn’t hired to attend to your needs,” I replied flatly.

She cleared her throat. “Sure.”

I sat back, raised my cup, and said, “So… was that a stunt to get me emotional? Or were you truly on your way to meet your creator?”

She stared at me like she wanted to throw the cup at my head. “What the fuck?”

“Well,” I said, swirling my wine, “women shouldn’t be underrated.”

She sighed, visibly irritated. “In as much as I’m trying to respect you, I’d advise you to be nice.”

I smirked. “Oh, I can be nice. But you don’t deserve it.”

Her eyes snapped up. “And why is that?”

“Because,” I said, leaning forward, “I don’t mingle with whores.”

Her breath hitched. “The fuck???! How am I a whore?”

I stood, walked slowly around her, and took another drag of my cigarette. “Women who spread their legs effortlessly...Women who act helpless to get attention… women who lie easily… women who scream in men’s faces, then pretend innocence...yeah, I don’t do that category.”

Her jaw tightened. “You’re unbelievable.”

We kept going back and forth...sharp words, insults, the air thick with tension neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

Finally she stood abruptly, tossing the blanket aside.“Fine,” she said. “I don’t mind being sacked. But get your ass out of my apartment.”

“You’re raising your voice, ma’am,” I said, grinning.

“Oh yes,” she snapped, “if that’s the only way I can get your nut fixed.”

I chuckled darkly. “How about you keep screaming while I get your cherry fixed?”

She froze.

Mouth slightly open.

Eyes wide.“I...uh… I…”

I moved before she could finish. My hand slid around her neck, not harshly, just enough to hold her still. Her breath caught. Her eyes lifted to mine.

And something snapped.

Just like that...my lips crashed onto hers.

Her taste...warm, soft, dangerously addictive...hit me like a drug. She pulled in a sharp breath, fingers grabbing my shirt like she didn’t know whether to push or pull.

My other hand found her waist.

Her pulse kicked.

Her chest pressed against mine.

I lost myself for a second. And I hated that. Because losing myself was the one thing I swore I’d never do.

I groaned as she climbed on my dick, rubbing and humping slowly..

She whispered, “Let go for me, Eric.” The command broke every last restraint I had, and I did, my body shuddering, my mind consumed entirely by her.

She rode my cock slowly, the waves of my release with a sly, wicked smile, maintaining control until the very last pulse, until I was spent, trembling beneath her.

Then she straddled me, hips grinding slowly, perfectly, driving me wild. Her lips grazed my neck, whispering my name, sending shivers through me.

My hands roamed her back, gripping, needing, surrendering. She was in control, every movement deliberate, intoxicating. Eric,” she whispered, “remember the role?” I nodded, breathless.

Her movements became bolder, more commanding. She guided my cock inside her,as I grabbed her breast, squeezing it...the world fell away.

Every friction, every gasp, every moan pulled me deeper, hotter, until I couldn’t think of anything but the fire between us. Her rhythm was perfect, teasing, pushing me to the edge and back again.

My mind spun, my body on fire, every nerve alive. I groaned her name, as she guided my cock back inside her pussy, I held her ass as I fucked her roughly...her moans surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure I gave her, the control she wielded with a smile.

I turned her, sucking her breast as I inserted my cock, she adjusted and I began going in,... slowly...the fastly..

She moaned as she kept whispering dirty stuffs to my ears.

I groaned. "Spread those legs, you dirty chick."

She smiled and whispered, "Yes, Mr Director."

"Fuck! I love that...I turned her over, spanking her ass and inserting my cock deep.... She moaned out as I shoved my finger inside her mouth..

Then...

A horn blared outside.

My car horn.

She jerked away. “Is your car safe? Why is it horning?”

I exhaled sharply and brushed my thumb across her jaw. “Oh. I told the officer who was interrogated earlier to go warm the engine. Seems he’s back.”

Before she could process that, her doorbell rang.

I smirked. “Let me get it.”

But as I stepped forward, she grabbed my wrist.

Hard.

I turned.

And her eyes…Those eyes…They held fear.

Curiosity.

Something unspoken.

Something that asked questions she didn't know she was asking.

And I…I didn’t like that feeling crawling into my chest.

Not one bit.