Page 77 of Easy
Taking myself to the back of the room to find the stairs.
My heels are loud on the wooden boards, my heart beating a tattoo to match the sound. I can hear the soft scuff of his shoes behind me but I don’t want to run. I’m almost at the stairs as he catches me, a hand hooking my waist.
‘Not so fast, sweet Sadie. Isn’t this why you came here?’ I roll my neck allowing his better access even as my mouth begins to form denials.
‘Fuck you,’ I murmur breathily.
‘Against everything your mouth says I know you want me to,fuck you,’ he hisses hard in my ear. Bites my neck. Makes me moan and want all of this.
In an instant, I spin in his arms, our mouths meeting in a collision of need—a punishing kiss where we both want to hurt and be hurt. Where we grapple for the upper hand, stealing the other’s breath. My fingers reach for his shirt, pull at his hair, while I writhe against his body like the whore I want him to make me.
The tenor of his soft laughter slides down my spine as he lifts my dress again.
‘Because you want this.’
‘Fuck you,’ I whisper.
‘Gladly. Because you need this.’ He growls, pinning my hands by my sides. ‘And because you’re fucking soaked.’
‘Fuck you.’ Though louder this time, the expletive still sounds impotent in the darkened hallway, my need exposed in its tone.
‘That’s more like it.’ His voice is midnight and velvet. It’s boudoir bedrooms.
It’s fucking in darkened alleys and hard stairwells. It’s gravel digging into my knees and everything in between. It’s his way and it’s his command and there’s nothing else I’ll ever want as he uncurls his finger and whispers, ‘Sweetheart, put your hands against the wall.’
But I’m trembling, the sound of my heart filling my ears over the brunette’s moans beyond. Will threads his fingers through mine, lifting them, and pressing my palms against the wall.Like he’s the puppet master and I’m his doll.
‘That’s it,’ he murmurs, his hands falling to my thighs where he begins lifting the hem of my skirt once again.
‘What if someone—’
‘You let them watch. Or else, what’s the point.’ His words set off a powerful beating between my legs. ‘Unless the point is not to be caught.’
‘Y-yes. I don’t want to be watched.’
‘You just want the dirty illicitness of it all? Without the serving of shame.’
Will immediately pulls my hips back, flipping the hem of my skirt fully over my hips. His hands find the place where my ass and thighs meet where he pulls me apart like a ripe peach.
The sound of his zipper. The bump of his silken head.
‘Let’s test the theory of it, shall we?’
I bite back my whimper as he slides his dick along my wetness. Cry out as he rams himself right into the heart of me—so hard I need his hands on my hips to keep me still. His thrust are punishing, all consuming, and no less than divine. I can hear myself crying out my love and my shame. Begging him to make me cum over and over again.
‘You fucking destroy me,’ he rasps from behind. ‘And you’re taking this cock. Taking it all and I don’t give a fuck who watches.’
‘Yes!’My fingers claw the wall as I buck against him in ecstasy.
‘I’m going to tear you apart.’
His fingers bruise as his cock heals me. Because I want him to hold me—to fuck me for now and for always. I want him to push me down onto the hard ground to my knees.
‘Do you want to come?’ he rasps.
I want to ask him what kind of a question that is but I don’t have the wherewithal. The energy. The will for anything but this. And as his fingers rub light circles around my clit, my knees buckle, and I fall apart in his arms, crying out in his arms.
Cradled on his lap, high on serotonin, endorphins, and fucking, I wrap my arms around his neck and sigh.
