Chapter 2 #2
What are friends for? Now come on, before you turn into a pumpkin at midnight.
And you best believe I need receipts! Love you M.
Mia
Love you asshole.
Damn, I wish she was still coming.
Sighing, I swipe to MatchNote to buy myself a few more minutes in my quiet hideaway.
Plus, maybe if I give it a little longer, more single dudes will show up and I can try to rise to the occasion and meet my dare.
Well, actually he’d be the one rising to the occasion.
Hopefully...
Oooohhh, a new match.
Tapping on the flashing envelope, I feel a tiny little spark of hope that maybe this will be the one.
Not the literal one, but the guy who can help me stick it to the trash bag ex who had no problem fucking up my life.
Yay for me, it’s another photo.
Drumroll, please…
Ugh, nope. He’s categorically not it.
There’s a special place in hell reserved for dating apps. I could fill an album with the dick pics I’ve received—this latest entry notwithstanding. I might need a date, but it’ll take more than a photo of a dude’s shriveled up chestnuts to tempt me.
Just as I’m about to head in, leather-covered arms cage me to the railing, as a broad chest brushes against my back, enveloping me in a delicious woody scent.
“Do you like scary movies?” A low, raspy voice sounds in my ear.
My heart rate picks up, and goosebumps run down my arms. He has me trapped, a Ghostface mask the only thing I can see in my peripheral vision.
I should be freaking out.
Why am I not freaking out?
Maybe it’s because his broad chest muscles ripple against my back, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve experienced since...
Or maybe I’ve had too much to drink? Although it’s only my first cocktail and I haven’t even finished it so I’m 99.9% sure that’s not the case.
Am I so desperate for a dicking that this psycho crowding me against the railing with his body has me flooding my panties?
Well, I would be flooding my panties if I was wearing any.
Instead, I’m all too aware of how needy I am because the cold air blowing against my exposed wet pussy makes me shiver.
When he leans the knife on the railing—plastic, so I’m gonna assume he’s here for the party and not an actual serial killer—I move his arm to circle my waist, resting his hand on my corset. His body, a solid wall of muscle, presses right up against me.
Fuck, his touch sends shockwaves everywhere. It feels good. So good.
Am I going to do this?
I don’t even know what this dude looks like, though he smells hot.
One wild night.
Fuck it.
This is more exciting than anything going on inside. I let my head drop back onto his shoulder and close my eyes, a satisfied rumble coming from him at the move.
His hand lightly strokes the satin corset, leaving me tingling all over, while the other stays braced on the railing.
Swallowing hard, I suck in a deep breath before grasping his hand and running it slowly down my tummy, over the tulle layers of the skirt I’ve pulled up, until I bring it to my bare pussy.
He mutters a raspy curse as his fingers flex and make contact, finding me soaking. His touch sends another jolt through me as I let go of his hand to reach up and wrap my arm around his neck, my hand gripping the soft, wavy hair curling above the collar of his leather jacket.
Wide, calloused fingers dip into my wetness, soaking his fingertips, before dragging them up to circle my clit. The cool night air adds a tingle, and I gasp, pressing my head harder onto his shoulder.
The leather sleeve of his jacket teases the skin on my inner thighs as his hand travels lower where he plunges two thick fingers deep inside me.
“Fuck yesss, just like that,” I pull his hair and grip his other arm, moving my hips to meet his thrusts, pushing his fingers deeper.
Other than an occasional grunt, he hasn’t said another word.
It’s so silent and still, all I can hear are the sounds my pussy makes around his fingers.
If anyone walks out here, there’s no way they won’t hear it.
That thought sends a fresh wave of arousal through me. Anyone could catch us, but I can’t bring myself to care. If anything, this hussy loves the idea.
Apparently, I’ve got an exhibitionist streak.
Should I be freaked out by his silence? Probably. But something about him feels… safe.
And right now I need this more than I need answers.
It’s been months.
His other hand leaves the railing to cup my breast, before sliding his fingers inside my corset to fondle my nipple. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest as he discovers my piercing.
His touch feels familiar, like my body knows him, even though my brain can’t place it.
Any sane person would probably question it, right? But fuck, this is so hot, I don’t want to. I love the mystery of my silent masked man having his way with me.
My pussy pulses against his fingers, the weight of his hard cock pressing into my ass. It’s huge, even through the layers of my skirt. My blood burns with excitement, my brain spinning, imagining how we must look.
I need more.
I want to come on his cock, not his fingers.
“Fuck me. Now.”
A feral growl is the only response I get before he pulls his fingers from me, unbuckles his belt, and rips open a condom wrapper in quick, practiced succession.
Glad he thought of protection because I definitely didn’t.
He pushes me down over the railing, and warmth floods my chest completely at odds with how filthy this is. Maybe it’s the way his body fits against mine, or the feel of his hands on me.
Safe.
Solid.
Almost natural instinct, when it really shouldn’t be.
But then he slams his thick cock deep. All coherent thought vanishes, and I shatter on a scream.
His big hand covers my mouth, cold metal rings digging into my cheek as he silences me.
He sets a punishing rhythm fucking me from behind, hammering his cock so deep he drives my body farther over the railing. His hand slips from my mouth to circle my neck flexing his fingers, as he subtly tightens his grip.
The move drives me wild and my teeth sink into my bottom lip to suppress a moan.
I need him to tighten his hold.
To use me.
His other hand expertly strums my clit, and my core tightens in response, my whole body tingling. His broad, muscular chest presses against my back, trapping me against the wood, while he gently squeezes my throat.
“Good girl,” he rasps out, barely imperceptible, but my heart still stutters at his words.
The moan I’d been trying to suppress slips past my lips and he growls in approval, flexing his strong fingers around my neck again.
My nails dig into the wood, struggling for purchase as every nerve ending sparks at the contact.
Pistoning his hips, he drives his length into me with deep, brutal strokes. Fighting the urge to scream, I squeeze my eyes shut and clench around his thick shaft, desperately trying to hold him there.
“Please.” The word slips past my lips unplanned. He sucks in a breath, his hips stutter to a stop before setting a ruthless pace. My arm slips off the railing so I hurriedly wrap it around his neck, needing an anchor as he pounds the very soul out of me.
A sharp slap to my clit breaks the thick silence, and the move is like a lightning bolt. I splinter into a million pieces, my head crashing back against his shoulder on a scream.
He slams his hand back over my mouth, tightening to silence the sound, as his moves grow more erratic.
Frantic fingers strum my clit, and the second he pinches the sensitive flesh, I crash into a second orgasm, even more intense then the first. I moan into his hand, tears streaming down my face as I desperately dig my fingers into the warm flesh of his neck.
He groans, driving himself deep one last time. He holds himself there, his hand tightly clasping my pussy, while his cock twitches, spilling inside me.
We stay frozen in place, locked together, bent over the railing, both breathing hard. His broad chest is oddly comforting, pressed to my back as he heaves with ragged breaths.
Fuck, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.
I close my eyes leaning my head on my arms, my pussy pulsing with aftershocks as he draws himself out of me.
No…
I immediately feel the loss. I hear him buckling up his jeans, and if I don’t turn around, he’ll be gone soon. I’m not sure I want this to be over so fast, dammit. I could go for round two.
Is wiggling two fingers in the air a little too obvious?
I want to work up the courage to turn around and face my mystery man, but butterflies run riot at the thought. He could be anyone.
What does he think of me?
Will he judge me?
What if he spreads it around town?
We’ve taken a huge risk tonight, but he hasn’t fully seen my face either.
If I stay like this, we both keep our anonymity.
Indecision wars through me, torn between wanting to know the man responsible for making me come harder than I thought possible and not wanting him to know who I am.
Before I can decide for myself, he leans over again, my body instantly going molten at the weight of him against me.
This horny hussy reeeeally wants round two. Just saying.
His knuckles tenderly brush against my jaw, his thumb caressing my bottom lip, before his hand falls away.
The move is so gentle and tender, a total contrast to the wild, animalistic sex we just had, that my brain explodes.
By the time I gather what’s left of my shell-shocked mind and spin around, ready to face my masked man, he’s gone.
I want to pull up my big girl panties and go inside to find him, but looking down, my heart sinks when I see the huge dark smears marring the white satin. Being at one with nature—hooking up against the wooden railing—has totally ruined my corset.
Dammit.
There’s no way I can go back inside now.
Maybe it’s better this way.
After firing off a quick text to Haven to let her know I’ve gone home with a headache, I slip out the side entrance of the courtyard.
My one wild night will stay just that.