The Devil's Princess

21.

Something was ringing, in the quiet of her apartment, something was ringing, he couldn't remember where he put his phone last night, maybe it was on his trousers, or in his night bag. But the ringing of his phone was near, so maybe it was on his trousers, that were on the floor, away from Meredith. As cheesy as it was, he didn't want to move away from her, he pulled her tighter to his chest, and just... held her.
It was soothing just having her in his arms. He wasn't like this type of man, the cuddly type. He was more of a fuck-'em-and-leave'em type of guy.

But just looking at the freckles scattered around her tiny button nose, her long lashes resting on her cheeks... He couldn't do that, not to her. She was different from every other woman he had ever been with. Scratch that, they were whore after his money. Meredith was the only woman he had ever been with that wasn't after anything. She was smart, had a great job, incredible beautiful, skinny, she had her own money... If he continued to enlist everything about her, he wouldn't be able to stop.

Last night was amazing, she was amazingly good in bed, her moans and screams just turned him on so much, just remembering put his cock hard. Her body was amazing, her breast just the perfect size, enough of a handful, and perfect for sucking on them. Her ass perfectly shaped for spanking her, he loved the way she responded to him when he did that. To say at list, he was pussy whipped. If he fucked her pussy for the rest of his life, he wouldn't be mad, he'd die a happy man. "I should stop thinking like that, as much as I want to fuck her again, I need to speak to her first." That was the only thing now in his mind.

Speaking to her.

He couldn't do that again until he had her permission. He couldn't do what he desired to do to her, without her consent first. He made a decision to move out of bed, to make her breakfast. But she was clinging to him hard, he had to physically move her hands and legs that were around him, and replace it with a pillow. She immediately cuddle it. He stood from the bed and just watched her sleep, and by doing that he got and erection. Instead of going to make breakfast, he went to the shower to take care of his problem.
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The second that Meredith woke up, she was met by the warmth of a pillow, instead of the comfy chest she remembered falling asleep. She rolled on her back, and that's when she felt a big aching between her thighs, and that just made her smile, remembering her actions from last night. She had sex, after two years of not having it. To say she was happy, it was an understatement. But that happiness didn't last long, when she remembered that the person of causing that pain, wasn't there to do that again.

She sat up on the bed, the comforter falling form her chest to her lap. Meredith looked around the room, and felt relieved when she saw his discharged black dress pants, and his white button down. She got out of bed, and threw his shirt on her.

She moved out of her bedroom, towards her kitchen, when she was assaulted by the rich smell that was wrapping around her penthouse. She stopped in her tracks, when she saw Derek, cooking in just his boxers, his amazing body displayed for her to see. She looked at his face, with more stubble on his cheeks, and a frown on his handsome face. He was cooking what looked like pancakes.
She sneaked up to him, and hugged him from behind, startling him slightly.

"Merda, I didn't hear you come here." He said.

"Sorry." She giggled slightly.

"Good morning, Bambina." Derek said, turning around to kiss her on her forehead.

"Good morning." She said looking at his tormented eyes.

She cupped his face in her hands, "what's wrong?" She asked.

"I need to talk to you about something." He finally said after a whole minute of silence.

"Is it bad?." She frowned.

"I-i don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist, and flipped a pancake with the other, "hmmm." He just nodded.

"Ok." Meredith said softly.

"Ok." He said, and moved away from the stove to the fridge, to get the whipped cream and squirt some of it to the pancakes.

"Breakfast's ready." He said again.

"I'll just grab the orange juice."

When he turned his back towards her, and went to the living room, she braced herself against her counter, thinking of what could possibly be he wanted to talk about.

She took a deep breath, grabbed the juice and the glasses, and went the same direction as him, ready to brace whatever it was.
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