Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Sometimes I become aware of myself in ways I wasn’t before. Sure, I’m present in this locker room, my hands gripping the front of Viagra guy’s dirty shirt.
But then I’m aware.
Like the white noise in my head just stops and all my attention zeroes in on… him.
His hands find my face. Framing it, he drags me to his lips. His eyes stay open as he holds me a little tighter. His thumb drags across my cheek. So damn tender that for a moment I wonder, will he.
Will he end this incessant need building inside of me. One I can’t control and can no longer deny exists.
All my life I’ve lived in this space where desire went unmet, lost, discouraged. And yet here he is. This man. This fucking stranger, and he’s all I can think of. All I could desperately want in this moment. And my gods, I want to take.
Except I swear, as he looks at me, he sees every thought that crosses my face before his lips take mine.
Soft, pillowy lips press against mine and for a moment they short-circuit my brain. Sending me offline, into a world I have only ever dreamed about.
Dreams of a man kissing me just as he is. With his whole body, his whole soul. And when he drags his lips across mine, the moan that rushes out on my exhale sounds nothing like the woman I was before this moment.
She doesn’t exist anymore. There is only me. Him. And the way he’s kissing me like the world no longer exists.
Each swipe of his tongue, I lose more and more of that woman. The one who existed before this moment. She fades away into the nothingness of the ether. Into the space between moments where life lives and breathes.
Gone.
My hands fist in his shirt, dragging him down, down, down to me, my tongue begging him to explore every inch.
He is the flame. I am the moth. And if I allow it, I’ll remain forever ensnared in his light.
I already know it. I don’t do this. I don’t do the poetry. But gods. This kiss. This stupid, world-ending, ruin-me kiss.
It isn’t just in the way he presses his lips against mine but in the way he holds my face so tenderly, as though I’m worth cherishing. As though I’m worth kissing.
And I kiss him back with a swipe of my tongue, tasting and testing.
Lemon zest rolls over my tongue, sparking hunger pangs in my stomach. My toes dare to lose their balance. I just can’t get close enough to him and I don’t dare break the hold he has on my face.
Except he does. Break that hold. Only to squat and flip my dress up and grip my hips. Spinning me, my back hits the door and his lips are back.
His tongue breaks through. Finally. Blessedly. Tasting, teasing, stroking against my tongue. Tracing my teeth and my breath with each exhale that I pant into his mouth.
My body curls toward his, begins pleading for things it just can’t name.
Luckily he, and my gods, I don’t know his name.
I know his eyes. His smell. The way he crashed my fundraiser and told me to talk to my bosses like he had the right.
I know everything about him except that one thing.
And I’m not asking. I tell myself it’s thrilling, the not-knowing.
It isn’t. It’s that the second I know his name, I have to know the rest, and some cold thread under all that heat already knows the rest is mine.
That it’s about me. That it’s the thing I’ve spent years not looking at.
Excitement bubbles up inside me, my core aching for him to fill me. In a way only he can. A way only he’d dare to.
One hand breaks away to slide between us. Up over my chest to rest at the base of my throat.
I bite his lip before kissing away the sting. Savoring the sound he makes.
I do it again. Needing desperately to hear that moan against my lips again. Like a gods-damn addict.
Pausing, he pulls back just enough, that free hand gripping my neck just right. Just so. Holding me still but letting me breathe. Barely.
I want to scream, harder, tighter, to demand he open his fly and free his swollen cock. The one I’m about to beg for. I won’t beg, though. Whine, sure. But beg?
Maybe.
If it’s worth it.
His eyes flick from one of mine to the other. But the little drop of blood on his lip sends a painful spark of arousal through me.
The moan my lungs release is more desperate whine than actual keen.
Maybe both.
I tighten my legs around him as he continues to stare.
Fuck it.
My hands drop from his shirt to his belt. He could tell me his name first. He doesn’t. He could tell me no too. He doesn’t do that either.
I’m okay with that, for now. The excitement of not knowing his name dances at the edges of my desperate arousal.
Flick. There goes the belt.
Nothing. His chest heaves and those eyes dare.
Accepted.
The button of his pants goes next. Gone. Zip down.
And then his hot cock fills my hand. Thick, hard, and dripping for me. There’s a power in that. Knowing that swollen cock is for me. Because of me. My body, my excitement, my moans.
Watching him watch me, with his grip on my neck, makes me wish he’d rip this dress off.
Shred it to pieces just so I could feel his hot breath on my nipples.
Instead he rips the crotch out of my panties.
I press up, letting the tip of his cock slip into my wet pussy. So easy I could glide down on him.
His grip flexes, just so. His eyes doing so much more work than I bet he’s even aware. Footsteps somewhere in the distance. Enzo. Leif. Loud in the dark.
I don’t care if they walk in. In fact, a part of me hopes they do.
I drop on his cock.
I hiss and moan. Him? He fucking watches me. The way I impale myself, the way my pussy swallows him whole, desperate and hungry.
And then he rolls his hips, pressing me into the door, his mouth latching onto the lobe of my ear as he rolls them again.
All I can do is hold on.
“This what you wanted?” he asks, voice gone low. “You wanted this cunt filled. You’ve wanted it since I crashed your little party.”
He rolls his hips and stays there.
If I’d known he was a talker, I would have said yes to one of those V’s sooner.
He pulls back so he can look me in the eyes, his one hand still holding me up. The other on my neck, tighter, tilting me to look at him.
“You begged for it.” A roll. “So beg. Tell me exactly what you want, Hadley.”
I can’t speak. I’m full. Pulsing around his cock, and for a split second I know I fucked something up.
This man. I think I might have fucked with the wrong one. Because right now, he’s looking at me like he’s never going to let go.
“You dropped on my cock soaking,” he says, “and now you want to go quiet.” He pulls out and fucks me quick and hard, a door slamming behind me where I vaguely hear the footsteps pause.
“No. I want to hear that pretty voice scream for me.” He holds me tighter.
“You thought I’d be a quick fuck. Didn’t you? ”
My legs grip him tighter.
“Yes.” I get it out.
“Mhmm.” He begins a slow, steady roll that makes me wonder just what the actual fuck I got myself into. “There she is.”
He drops the grip on my neck, holding my thighs and taking over control. My hands grip his shoulders, and now I can’t drop back on him. I can’t go anywhere.
He watches as his cock slides in and out of me, my own arousal building each time he pulls out. The thick, hard ridge of him collecting my juices like a token.
“Look.” His finger glides along his cock, swiping up my own cream at how thick and frothy it is. “Look how fucking wet you make my cock when you stop fighting me.” He licks it.
Okay. I’m ruined. That’s hot. And I wish he’d let me do something, anything with my hips, but he won’t. He holds me so tightly I’m not sure I’d move even if I could.
I’m in his web. Caught.
And I don’t want to get out. Not when he rolls his hips like that.
Deep inside me, he presses a finger to my clit. Just pressing down.
“You ran.” He looks back up at me, reading the confusion on my face.
“You could’ve heard everything if you’d just stood still.
Instead you get this. Fucked stupid against a locker.
” He rolls his hips until I see stars, then he does it again while running his mouth.
“All you had to do was listen, Hadley. We’d have told you everything.
” His jaw works like I’ve pissed him off.
“And now they’re going to make me answer for what I’m doing to you. ”
“Can’t—” think. I can’t fucking think.
“I know. That’s the point.” He keeps rolling his hips. Slick runs down his thighs. Down my thighs to drip onto the floor. The mess left behind is one I would prefer to stay on the sheets as evidence.
“You broke into my security room with a steel pole.” If he’d just shut up and keep rolling his hips just. Like. That. “Swung on me. Bit me till I bled.” Another roll, deeper. “So you get fucked against the lockers you cracked open looking for your girl. Seems fair.”
I snort. “That’s not a bad thing.”
He leans in, hands gripping my thighs as he whispers in my ear. “No?” He starts fucking me like he means it. Like his only goal is to listen to me scream in this locker room loud enough for the echo to reach the fundraiser.
I shake my head, now my nails digging into his shoulders. I swear drool comes out of my mouth. My whole body shakes and comes online and I bite my tongue tasting blood to hold back my scream.
“You’re close. And that orgasm belongs to me now.” He rolls his hips like an ocean wave. Each slow thrust massaging my G-spot like a pro. “Right there. Deep inside your pussy. So when you come on my cock, I get to drink you off it until that clit’s throbbing raw under my tongue.”
“Oh.” Is it possible to be so aroused that it hurts? Because it hurts. “Hurt,” I whimper, trying to get him to understand.
“You think you’re not exactly where I want you?” He laughs and it’s the most erotic thing. “Hurting on my cock, dripping down my balls? That’s the whole point.”
“Fucking hell.” If I could just move.
“No. G-spot only.” He chuckles. “You don’t come till I’ve wrung you out from the inside first.”
“I need to come. Now.”
“Do you?” He keeps that slow, steady roll. Never wavering. Never buckling.
“I do. I do,” I repeat, nearly begging.
“Sounds like you do.” He presses flush against me holding as still as possible. “Hold on.”
Say less.
My hips grip him harder. My nails rip holes in his shirt. And my hot breath wets the sweat-slick skin of his neck.
“You want to come?”
“Yeah.” I breathe.
“Then listen.” He tightens his grip.
Oh, I am listening. Just keep talking me through it.
“You’re going to come on my cock when I tell you to.” He whispers it. Just for us. “And when you come, you’re going to scream loud enough that Enzo and Leif hear every second of it.” His jaw works against my temple. “They should know who’s got you.”
The footsteps from before, the ones I told myself I didn’t care about. It was them, it had to be Enzo and Leif.
“They’re still listening.” It isn’t a question. I knew. I’ve known since I dropped on his cock and didn’t stop.
“Right outside.” He lifts me, carries me a few steps, I don’t track where, I can’t track anything, and sets my back against something solid. Cooler than the door. Steadier. It doesn’t give the way a wall gives. His cock never stops. Not once. “A wall away,” he says. “Screaming distance.”
I groan. My orgasm builds, the coils tight and hot before he’s moving me again.
This time the surface at my back is warm where a wall would be cold. It breathes where a wall would be still. I am too far gone to ask the question my body already knows the answer to.
“You ready to come for me, Hadley?” he demands, and he’s all I can think of, all I see. “Feel how hard you’ve got me. Feel how open you are around my cock, like you were built to take it. All of it.” His voice drops. “Eyes on me.”
My nails draw blood.
Hunger rips through me.
“Come. Now.”
I shatter on his cock. As his cry bounces off the walls of the locker room, his release splashes inside me. My mind whites out as he drops.
But I don’t move.
Then his tongue is on me.
And I don’t care, because I’m coming all over again, just as he said I would. My thighs grip his head, holding him between them, and I don’t even care if he can’t breathe as long as his tongue keeps flicking the way it is.
And when I come again, he drinks every single drop I have to give him.
Including his own.