Page 43 of Stranger Danger

Too bad.

I clench around him, and his fingers dig deeper into my hips like he’s trying to hold me together. His whole body is shaking beneath me—not just his hands. His thighs, his chest, his jaw clenching so tight I can see the muscle jumping under the ski mask. It’s enough to make me roll my hips up. He moans this tiny, broken little sound that makes me grin.

“I know you can be louder than that,” I whisper.

His hips jerk up into me, and I clamp my thighs around his waist to keep him there. The bunny mask is slipping, sweaty against my face, but I don’t bother fixing it. I slam my hands down on his shoulders and ride him hard enough to make the bed frame scream against the wall. The couple next door doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters except the way he’s filling me, the way his grip is going to leave purple and blue spots I’ll press my fingers into for days.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, and his hips meet me halfway. “I—”

I lean down until the bunny mask bumps against the ski mask, until I can taste his hot breath. “You’re not going to come yet. We just started.”

“Fuck, Ira.”

My name in his mouth—low and wrecked and nothing like Beckett—makes my dick jerk. I wrap my free hand around it, pumping myself to the rhythm as I bounce on his cock. My throat’s so raw it feels like I swallowed glass, but my moan’s disgustingly loud—even for me. He pulls me down onto him harder, and my hand slips off. I don’t care. I'll never complain about anything again if I get to watch him fall apart like this on repeat. His arms wrap around my hips tight enough to squeeze send my skin tingling, his nails digging into my ass.

My thighs are shaking so hard I have to stop, pressed fully down on him, my forehead dropping against his shoulder. Every single whimper and moan out of him is gold—I’ll treasure them forever. No one’s ever sounded like this while we fucked.

His hips twitch upward like he can’t help it. “You’re killing me.”

“Good.”

I grind down, just to feel him throb inside me, and his whole body arches. His grip on my ass tightens until I know sitting is going to be an issue tomorrow. But tomorrow is boring. Tomorrow can wait its turn.

“Move,” he whispers, desperate. “Please, I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You won’t. Do whatever feels good.”

For a moment, Beckett doesn’t budge—just stays perfectly still, breathing hard, the bright blue hoodie sticking to my chest. Then he lifts me so fast I almost panic, slamming my back against the mattress. His cock slips free, and the emptiness is worse than when I take my toys out after a long session.

He grabs my knees and shoves them up toward my chest, folding me in half. The position is so exposed that my heart stutters against my ribs. He doesn’t wait. He pushes back inside in one long stroke, and I see actual stars this time, white and black and green like his eyes.

“Holy fuck,” I whine. “Yes, yes, yes. Just like that.”

I throw my ankle over his shoulder, and arch my back on the first thrust so he gets as deep as possible. My stomach is quivering, my vision fuzzy at the edges as he hits that same spot over and over. I’m going to melt into the sheets, and I’ve never been this excited about morphing into a puddle.

His breath catches so loudly, it sounds like he’s choking. “S-stop talking. You’re going to make me come.”

“Come inside me.”

He leans down, his weight pressing against me until the back of my thigh screams for me to start stretching more regularly. My toes curl, threatening a Charlie horse, and I slip my leg from his shoulder, wrapping it around his waist instead.

The pressure builds in my spine, and I can’t stop my moaning, my ridiculous rambling of his name until it doesn't even sound like a word anymore. His hips lose their rhythm, fucking me harder and faster until it’s my perfect Goldilocks—just right. I grab his hand and wrap it around my dick, squeezing so his fingers get the message. His grip is too tight, then too loose, but I’m so close I swear I’m going to fucking scream.

He comes first—shuddering, the ski mask barely masking the sound of his groans, the way his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head. His cock swells inside me, pulsing, and sends me skipping over the edge. My cum pools in the dip of my hip, way too hot, and I ride out the pleasure, grinding against him until I hear him whimper.

“Too much?” I pant, half-laughing.

Beckett’s only answer is a thrust so hard my entire body moves.

I let my head fall back on the mattress and grin to myself.

Best.

Night.

Ever.

By the fifth round, everything hurts in the best fucking way, and I’m ninety percent sure I cannot use my legs for the rest of the day. The alarm on my phone goes off, and it’s just… It’s too far away. Beckett silences it for me, then flops back down on my bed.