Chapter 29 #2
I want to say something to him—anything—yet my mind instantly goes blank.
And all I can feel is him. All I can think about is him.
But then I remember him talking to that blonde just minutes ago, and a bitter taste hits the back of my throat.
“Get off me. Go back to your little blonde from earlier. Maybe you’ll find someone new to obsess over, and leave me the fuck alone. ”
“You’re jealous,” he says, plunging into me—hard, vicious, like pissing me off was his goal all along.
I fight again to push him off me, adrenaline and fury twisting into something unrecognizable.
I could kill him here and now, but I could also let him fuck me raw right here and now.
“Oh, I love it when you fight me. Know why?” his voice carrying a dark seduction.
I don’t even bother to answer, just squirm against him, trying to break free. “Because it’s your kink. You want to feel restrained. You want me to take control. To fuck you raw,” he smirks. “I just heard it in your thoughts.”
“That’s not true,” I spit back. How the fuck does he know that? Panic tightens in my chest, unable to figure out how the hell he knows what I was just thinking?
“Oh, it is true. I might not be able to read your every thought. But there are bits too loud to be hidden from me,” he says, thrusting so deep it slams me against the sink, the tiles echoing around us.
“You’re just lucky guessing,” I grit out, knowing that’s not possible. Unless he’s a psychic—which I know he’s not. It has to be a fluke.
“I can hear your thoughts, Serena. Not as clearly as I could hear your sister’s.
” He lets out a knowing laugh. “That perfect husband of hers is cheating. That’s why she couldn’t keep her eyes off me.
She wanted me to fuck her so badly, it was almost pathetic.
Not gonna lie, it’s gonna be weird at family dinners. ”
I don’t reply because even though I know, he couldn’t hear her, I saw it in her eyes. He’s right—my own sister was eye-fucking him.
“Almost every female in the room wants what you have,” he says, slamming me against the sink again to the point I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. Or maybe I’m just surprised I don’t shatter.
His lips press against my back as he pulls my wrist tighter against his stomach, his hips grinding into my ass like he wants to brand me as his.
“But I’m all yours.” His hand slips inside the top of my dress, gripping one of my breasts, and nearly making me lose my balance. “The way you’re all mine.” He pinches my nipple hard enough to pull a choked scream from my throat.
I want to call him out on his lie, but I know he’s right. I’ve seen the way every-fucking-body looks at him. How everyone wants him. Every woman, maybe even some of the men. Everyone here would kill to be in my place.
His fingers on me suddenly become warmer, more real, the restraint—the slight delicious pain as they dig into my breast with the same force his cock is digging into me.
My heart is pounding as I feel something so evil, so wicked within him. And I don’t hate that part. I want it to consume me. I want it to mark me. To burn me. Any fucked-up thing that proves who I belong to.
My mouth suddenly goes dry, and I become as wild an animal as he is, letting the pleasure sneak in at maximum limit, chasing it with every move, shattering with every breath.
Just when I feel ragged, like I’ve returned to something primal, his voice beckons in my ear. “Look in the mirror.”
And I do, even if, when I first open my eyes to look, everything’s a blur around us, but then the image clears and I see a large silhouette dominating me—in every sense of the world.
I see us. “Look how beautiful you are with me inside you.” His lips brush my collarbone, and he kisses me so hard that I know he’s leaving a mark.
“So fucking perfect when you take me,” he says, and another mark follows.
Then another. And another. Until I start to wonder if my hair is long enough to hide them so that people won’t start staring when we return to the party.
“Set,” I murmur, tilting my head to the side, calling him to my lips. And he doesn’t wait to come to me. He kisses me so fiercely, I could climax from that alone.
I purr into his mouth, letting him know what he’s really doing to me.
How beautifully he’s ruining me. I can’t begin to understand how this happened, because he didn’t even give me a single answer to my questions.
I should still be pissed off at him. But right now it’s not about thinking.
It’s about feeling. And what I feel when I’m with him doesn’t compare to anything else in this world.
I hear him groan in frustration, tugging at my dress. I can feel he wants to turn me around so he can properly taste my lips, but he knows he can’t right now. At least not without hurting me. So he settles for trailing his hand from my breast to my neck, like he’s mapping every inch of me.
He squeezes gently at first, giving me time to adjust my almost nonexistent breathing to his thrusts.
But then he pushes harder. And harder. His grip tightens, growing more intense, until I feel like I’m about to run out of air.
Still, I don’t fight it. The feeling’s so overwhelming, so overpowering that my eyes close, and I feel only one thing.
Him. He’s everywhere. In my senses, my body, my mind.
His presence is so strong that it merges with my own, and I try to fight him a few times—just to remind myself I’m still alive.
His grip loosens just enough for me to take a breath. Then he’s draining the life out of me again, his cock pounding into me and doing serious damage to my internal organs.
I just pray I’ll still be able to walk when he’s done with me, because somehow, we still have to make it out of here.
Suddenly, everything is becoming too much. Too much of him. Too much pleasure. Too much pain. Too much fire burning inside of me.
My core clenches so powerfully, it almost knocks me unconscious. I feel myself slipping between his fingers, my body turning into goo in his arms, and reality is replaced by a place where only he and I exist.
“Come back to me, Serena, I’m not done with you,” he says, and my vision clears to see us back in the mirror.
His grip is lighter now, but the way my walls swallow him whole isn’t.
The pleasure takes a different high. And my body shudders so hard I can’t stop panting.
I’m moaning so loud that I fear anyone outside the door might hear us.
I just can’t control myself. Can’t stop the madness from taking hold.
I break from his embrace, my forehead pressed against the mirror, trying to withstand the electric pleasure tearing through my veins.
My body’s going into some kind of overdrive when I hear a knock at the door.
Fuck. Everyone’s gonna know we’ve been having sex in the bathroom.
They’ll probably be lined up outside the door when we try to leave.
Panic surges through me. But so does the adrenaline and another orgasm rips through me—so powerful this time, I can barely keep my mouth shut.
“Scream, my name. Let everyone know you belong to me.”
“Are you out of your mind? We’re at a damn party,” I snap, knowing full well it doesn’t faze him. If anything, it only makes him wish for it harder.
Only makes him push me harder.
“I am out of my damn mind. You drive me fucking insane, and I love every single second of it.” He thrusts deeper and rougher, my stomach hitting the sink loud enough to make everything in the cabinet below clatter.
There’s no way out of this. My moans are turning into hushed screams and indecipherable words.
Until they shape into his name. “Set….Set…” I keep repeating it until my feet give out, my heels wobbling like drumsticks, and the orgasm tearing through me makes my senses blur, and turns my brain to mush.
“Louder,” he roars, driving into me, holding back his release until I say it. And I can’t deny him. I scream his name louder, fiercer than a few moments ago, until the letters echo on the tiles. SET—the only name burned into my mind.
Only then do I feel him spill inside of me, the heat of his release spreading between my thighs.
I barely manage to straighten up and clean myself before the embarrassment hits me again. Everybody must’ve heard what happened here. That’s it. I’m staying in here until the party’s over and everyone’s gone.
But Set, of course, sees things differently. “Breathe. You look like you’re about to have a panic attack. And I’m not letting that happen. But I could consider giving you another orgasm.”
I instantly take a step back. “I really will have a panic attack when I have to face everyone at the party and they’ll know we had sex in the bathroom.”
“Get yourself together. They won’t know. There are plenty of other bathrooms here. And I doubt anyone was listening at the door. The music’s loud enough to cover our voices. But to ease your mind, I’ll walk out of here first.”
“I’ll just hide in the toilet…. for the rest of my life.”
“Serena…” Set warns, as if he knows I could be capable of doing that.
“You’ve got ten minutes. Then I’m coming back and we'll go for a repeat,” he says, looking straight at me, his eyes making it clear he’s not joking.
Neither my body nor my conscience could handle a repeat, so I just nod and glance in the mirror, trying to assess how ruined my makeup really is.
My cheeks are red enough to show through the foundation.
And what gets me most is that as I look at Set, he doesn’t seem to have even a single hair out of place.
Ugh, I hate him for being so perfect because it makes me fall even more for everything else he does.
“Ten minutes, Serena,” he reminds me, like he’s certain I won’t follow through, then walks out to the bathroom door, just as I lock myself inside one of the stalls. I just hope enough people come in to forget I wasn’t with the one who just stepped through the door.
I still can’t believe we had sex in here, yet the shaking in my legs makes it very real. So does the tension in my head as I think about going back to the party.
Before I know it, my ten minutes are almost up, and I know he’ll come back in here for me.
So... here goes nothing.
I push open the door to return to the party, knowing every damn eye is on me.