Wild Thing

17. Seventeen

Seventeen

DYLAN

O pening the door to my room, I immediately went into the bathroom and ran a shower.

The night had been incredible—I’d died and come back to life more times than I could count, undone by his touch, his lips, his everything.

I connected my phone to the bluetooth speaker and hit shuffle on my "Sex, Love and Heartbreak" playlist. The first song was Kina Grannis's cover of Creep —a version I’d always preferred over Radiohead's original.

Stripping off my clothes, I stepped into the shower. The hot water ran over me, scorching and cleansing, washing away the sweat and the tension I felt. I wished it was that easy to wash the guilt away.

My skin prickled under the heat, a reminder of Brax's hands, his mouth and the way he touched me.

That kiss—it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a declaration, a wildfire. The kind of kiss that leaves an imprint on your soul.

And it might have been the best of my life.

I leaned my forehead against the cool tile, water streaming over me, trying to steady my thoughts.

But his voice, his scent, the way he looked at me—it was all still there. And now I had an itch that needed scratching.

Why did Steven have to ruin the mood?

I was furious at Steven. The audacity of that motherfucker.

But the way Brax stepped in without hesitation, and defended me? God, it was hot.

Not that I needed defending—I could’ve handled Steven just fine. I’ve dealt with him before, and I know how to shut him down.

But still, seeing Brax take charge, his protectiveness radiating like a bodyguard, sent a thrill through me. It wasn’t just what he did; it was the way he did it, with that quiet dominance.

Sexy didn’t even begin to cover it.

Still, it didn't change the fact that I'd crossed a line.

I was a cheater. But, this was different from the rest, wasn't it?

An oily, uneasy feeling twisted in my stomach every time I thought about the consequences of getting caught.

The fallout could be catastrophic—for him, for me, for everything. We’d have to tread carefully these next few days. There was too much at stake to be reckless. This had to remain our little secret.

Was I becoming everything I hated? A liar, a cheater, a home-wrecker? A mini version of my Father?

I couldn't deny it though, the thought of having something that was just mine and Brax's thrilled me. The danger only made it more intoxicating. Because being with him—feeling his hands on me, his lips on mine… it was all worth it.

I stepped out of the shower, steam swirling around me, my skin still tingling from the heat. After dying off, I still felt restless and unsatisfied.

But I had an idea.

Reaching into my suitcase, I pulled out the brand-new red lace lingerie set I’d bought shopping the other day. It was scandalous, barely covering anything, the delicate fabric clinging to all the right places.

I slipped it on, the cool lace against my damp skin making me shiver. I didn't think to turn off the air-conditioning.

I wanted my nipples hard anyway.

I propped my phone against the wall on the desk, angling it just right. With a deep breath, I set the timer and struck a seductive pose, the kind that left nothing to the imagination. My eyes smoldered, my lips parted just enough to tease.

When the photo appeared on the screen, I smirked, satisfied with the result. Without a second thought, I sent it to Brax, my heart in my throat.

Room 1402

Seconds later, he video called me.

He lay shirtless in bed, the sheet slung low around his waist, revealing his tattooed, chiseled chest. My mouth watered at the sight.

He was ripped. There wasn't an ounce of fat on this man.

Even in the dim light, I could make out the fierce artwork etched across his skin—a winged hawk stretched across his chest, a snake caught in its talons. On his stomach, a wolf clashed with a bear, surrounded by vicious designs that filled every inch of space.

Brutal. Badass. Fucking sexy.

I imagined dragging my tongue all the way down that toned body.

“What are you doing to me Dylan?”

“What do you mean?”

He blew out a breath. “That photo… Jesus.”

“I just wanted to remind you of what’s a few floors down.”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His gaze turned volcanic. “Show me.”

I placed my phone back against the wall, and did what he asked, the best way I knew how. Years of dancing had given me the confidence I needed to pull this off.

His own private striptease. It was ironic that the song currently playing was Faith No More's "Stripsearch."

I felt completely out of control. It was like being a passenger in my own body, my limbs weightless and disconnected, moving without permission.

Slowly, slowly, I swayed my hips side to side, around and around, my movements smooth and fluid, like water flowing downstream.

I turned and arched my back slightly, showing him my body and the lace in the shape of a love heart over my ass. My hands slid up my sides, grazing my curves before tangling in my damp hair. My hips circled, teasingly, before slowly and deliberately, I lowered myself further.

I craned my neck, looking back to steal a look at Brax.

His eyes were locked, unblinking, his breaths heavy and uneven.

Exactly what I wanted to see.

A man unraveled.

Arching my back further, I ran my hand over my ass, my fingertips dancing at the spot that was craving his touch.

Slowly.

So, so slowly.

Every move was calculated and for optimal viewing pleasure. I rose and turned to face the screen just as slowly, every movement deliberate, a masterclass in seduction without saying a word.

My body felt hot as I sauntered closer to the screen, my hands sliding over my tits. I moved like a predatory animal; a stealthy cat, fluid, gracious and dangerous.

I unclipped my bra, freeing my breasts from the confines of the lace. I squeezed my tits together, then rubbed my nipples slowly, before pinching them hard.

Brax's breathing intensified. There was movement under the blanket.

My lips curved into a knowing smile. He was touching himself.

I asked him to tell me what he was doing. He ignored me. Or maybe I'd imagined that I'd said it out loud, when really, I had asked it in my mind.

His gaze was dark, his eyes heavy and glazed. I had him entranced.

Exactly where I wanted him.

For now, this was perfect. It was sexual theater.

“Show me what you're doing,” I ordered.

This time, he did what he was told.

Brax shifted his phone, giving me a clear view as he let the sheet fall away. He was rock hard, his tattooed hand holding his dick at the base. I forgot what a monster he was packing. The sheer size of him was enough to make my pussy ache with need even more than it already was.

“What do you want me to do, Brax?”

“Keep dancing for me.”

I started to dance again, this time turning my body to the side.

“This is what I want to do to you.”

My hips rolled in a slow, deliberate S shape, moving forward and back, each motion drawn out, lingering... so achingly slow.

He was silent, but pleasuring himself with long, firm strokes, clearly enjoying the show.

Facing back towards the camera, I sat on the back of the lounge and spread my legs. “Do you like what you see?”

He didn’t answer again, his eyes fixed on me as he bit his lip.

A sly smile curled on my lips as I ran my hands slowly over my body, savoring the moment.

I felt like a fucking goddess.

My hands roamed my body. It felt good to feel desired.

To be wanted.

To be seen.

I slid my hand inside my red thong. This was a show and I was committed to a happy ending.

I traced my finger under the lining and sank it down to my pussy.

“I’m so wet for you Brax,” I whispered.

I had the confidence of a porn star courtesy of the blend of alcohol, the music and the hardened dick on the other side of the screen.

I began to slowly circle that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Do you want to know what I’m thinking about?”

There was no answer from Brax—just a dark, heavy stare that would drop the panties of any woman.

He was eye-fucking me through the screen.

Breathlessly, I rolled my head back and closed my eyes.

“I’m thinking about what it would be like to have your fingers… your mouth… your tongue between my legs,” I whispered, as I continued to touch myself. “Do you remember what I taste like, Brax?”

His voice was rough, gravel like. “Remind me.”

I slid my red underwear down my legs, keeping my movements fluid.

Slowly, I rose and spread my legs.

I was insanely turned on. I knew my pussy would be glistening with my slickness under the dim of the mood lighting.

Finally, I gave him his reminder.

I pressed a finger inside myself, then slowly pulled it out.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

On the final time, I opened my eyes and raised my finger to my lips, slowly dragging my tongue up the side of my finger, before I swallowed my finger whole and slowly pulled it from my lips. “Sweet…” I closed my eyes for a moment, before snapping them open. “Like a honey glazed donut.”

He took in a sharp breath. “Fuck.”

Despite my heart beating erratically, I felt like I was in slow motion.

I glided my hand back over my chest and traced a line over my stomach, before dropping it down towards my pussy, and inserting a finger again.

I rocked my hips back and forth, and rolled my head from side to side, while I fucked myself.

I allowed my mind to fuse with the pleasure I was giving to my body.

This was now all for me.

I'd done the work, it was time to reap the reward for my efforts. Smoothly, I removed my fingers and slid them onto my clit, making small circles, a little quicker this time.

Watching Brax's hand dancing up and down on his giant cock supercharged my body further. My breathing became heavy, uneven, as I felt a warmth swell in my body as I got closer to my climax.

"Talk to me how I like it, Brax," I begged.

"Come for me, baby," he groaned in response. "You're doing so good."

“I want you, Brax.”

"I fucking want you, too."

He bared his teeth, like he was about to lose all control.

I steadied myself, knowing it was time for the final act. I dipped my finger back inside me and angled my body so Brax could see the grip I had on myself.

I wanted him to see I was tight. In and out, slowly and deliberately, I fucked myself until I was falling off the edge of a cliff. "Come with me, Brax."

My breath shortened as I slid my fingers to my clit. Faster and faster I went until I welcomed the shockwaves that begun to electrify my entire body.

I arched my back and threw my head back as I came, my eyes never leaving Brax's as wave after wave of pleasure rocketed through my body.

With a deep growl, Brax found his release as I found mine.

I'd barely let him catch his breath before I'd brought my fingers back to my mouth and licked them clean. “You should taste me sometime, Brax.”

Before he could answer, I smiled and disconnected the video call. The episode was over, but the show was just beginning.

And I was the motherfucking star of it.