I stood, and found my legs were unsteady. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then felt a firm hand on my hip.
"This way, into the bedroom," said his voice in my ear, and I walked where he guided me.
He stopped me once we were at the bed, and for a second he just wrapped his arms around me and held me from behind. His chest was against my back, and I could feel his erection pressing into me through the fabric of his sweatpants. He kept one arm around me as he undid my bra. Once the clasp came undone, I slipped it off, turned in his arms, and pushed down his pants. He bent his head to kiss my neck and then pushed me down onto the bed.
"Tell me again," he said. I looked up at him, practically shivering with want, and said, "I want you inside me."
His hungry smile was back, he grabbed my hips and pushed me up the bed. He climbed on top of me, pushing my legs open with his body, and pressing just the tip of his cock into me. I cried out in frustration. He grinned, and lowered his head to take first one nipple and then the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them playfully. Then he kissed me before pulling back.
"Just one more time," he said. Now, it was my jaw that clenched.
"I want you," I said through my teeth, "inside me. Now!"
He plunged into me, and as desperately as I had wanted it, I was still not prepared. He started to move, rocking his hips in a way that made me moan uncontrollably. It still wasn't enough for me, though, and as if he read my mind he pulled out and flipped me over before entering me again. His hands dug into my hips and I was clinging desperately to the bedsheets. It felt like every stroke took him deeper than I could handle, and yet I wanted more, and begged him to go deeper, harder. He complied, and before long I was coming again, spinning into oblivion. Not long after I came, he came too, slamming against me until he was spent, and we both collapsed onto the bed.
After a minute he rolled off of me, and I turned onto my back. Without the heat of his body the air felt cool against my sweat-drenched skin. Again, as if reading my mind, he pulled the sheet up over us.
I looked up at the ceiling and took a breath, trying to process the mind-blowing experience I'd just had. If every one-night stand was this good, I'd have to have them more often...
My mind wandered, and my eyes roamed around the room. I hadn't really been in a state to notice earlier, but now I could see this room was just as luxurious as the sitting area. It was a little smaller, but in an intimate way. There was another painting on the wall, but I couldn't see what it was in the dim light.
I suddenly felt his hand in mine and looked over to see him watching me.
"It's Toulouse-Lautrec," he said, apparently having noticed me looking at the painting. "You can get a better look in the morning." And he settled down into the bed beside me like we did this every night.
"I won't be here in the morning," I replied. "Thank you for this, but I'm leaving shortly."
"You'll stay," he ordered, but he had lost all his domineering presence. He was almost childlike, with his hand wrapped in mine as he sighed his command and then contentedly closed his eyes, seemingly sure that I would comply. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
When I awoke,the morning sun was just starting to warm the room. I sat up and took in my surroundings in the daylight, and briefly thought about what it would be like to stay, to order room service, to find out the name of the man sleeping beside me.
I could see the painting across the room clearly now. He was right, it was Toulouse-Lautrec; mirroring life, it showed two people in a bed together. I looked over at him, sleeping peacefully, as though he hadn't moved all night. He was still very much naked, and I felt the stirrings of desire. The sunlight caressed his skin, and I longed to do the same. I suppressed it, though. It was always going to be just one night with him, and that night was over. Now that it was morning, it was time for me to go. I should leave now, while he was still asleep.
I took one last look at him, memorizing the tableau in front of me and tucking it away in my mind, before slipping out of the sheets, gathering up my clothes, and quietly sneaking out the door.