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But I'm too late—buzz, buzz.
My jaw goes limp, nearly smacking the ledge of the tub, upon seeing his sweatpants drooped even lower, revealing the full head of his cock.
The leash on my control finally snaps.
My hands dart back to where I want them—where I need them. I cry out, when my finger plunges through my entrance, straight to the knuckle, uncaring of how the tub may amplify my voice. My hips buck as fiery pleasure ripples through my middle, sliding me downward, farther and farther, until I'm flat on my back with my knees spread wide and ankles propped up on the ledge, granting me easy access.
Above my head, another buzz vibrates against the acrylic, but it's drowned out by the blood raging between my ears, and the fantasy burning a hole through my cranium.
But Reid doesn't stand a chance, not for two seconds. Him and the empty classroom, they poof from existence, dying on the wake of Hayden's deep chuckle. A shiver races from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, as my fantasy ebbs and sighs and transforms into something anew.
A place where Hayden has full control, where it's his lips plunging between my folds, and I'm no longer bent over a desk but pressed up against a wall of glass in the hallway outside my bedroom, just like the other day. But this time, he's on his knees while I'm completely bared to him, fully nude a hundred floors up, with my peaked nipples raking against the glass with each of his movements.
My back arches along the tub as I flick my clit with vigor, utterly devoid of shame...
But what's worse about this fantasy than the last, is although Hayden wraps his arms around my waist, locking me in place, he works me with patience. Like I'm his feast and this is his last meal, which he means to savor.
His tongue sweeps up my center with a groan, nearing my taint, then trails back down to my front, brushing my clit like the tease of a feather. Panting, I jerk back for more, but his arms squeeze tightly, holding me still. Satisfied, he laughs quietly, retracing back through my folds.
Over. And over. And over, again.
Until my moans echo throughout the bathroom, real life and fantasy fuse into one, and I'm mercilessly pumping into myself, in part hating how wet I am, how good he feels, while the other sings to his touch.
More, more, more—I need more!
I add another finger, not caring that it's my first time, crying out when I can only fit an inch, right as Hayden sucks my clit into his mouth. A scream lodges deep in my throat, escaping only as drowned-out whimpers, while he traps my sensitive bud between his teeth and flicks his tongue expertly.
My eyes cross in two, forming stars and the promises of regret, before a surge of ecstasy like I've never known tears right through me, swelling then crashing over a white fire. Desperate for more, I thrust harder, stretching myself in beat to every wave, every pulsation squeezing around my fingers, as a name so forbidden slips from my mouth.
Not once. Not twice. But—I don't even know how many times. I only know how it feels, and it feels right and liberating, like the morning sun, and warm and—
My euphoria fades, fleeting as it was captivating.
A-and—and...
I blink, squinting at my surroundings, at the shadow of remembrance stuck in my throat.
... AND SO WRONG, I finish my thought on a mental scream, as terrible, life-ruining embarrassment takes ahold of me.
Oh no oh no oh no oh no...
Wheezing, surely on the verge of hyperventilating, I readjust my panties, which might as well have been hosed down along with the rest of my nether regions, then yank up my pajama pants, trapping myself in an uncomfortable, soggy situation.
It's fine. Everything's fine.
I grab the ledge of the tub, pulling myself upright.
I'll just take a shower, then tiptoe back to my room. This penthouse is like a thousand square miles, and it's the dead of night. No one heard me, maybe not even God, and especially not the man belonging to the name I moaned out in the dark on a blinding orgasm all alone in my bathtub. Nope. Definitely not. Because this time, for once in my life, I'm in luck. I'm—
Like the looming of a deadly storm, my phone comes into view. Images and message notifications flood my lockscreen, but the most recent text is the only proof I need.
My worst nightmare has come true.
Hayden: My name sounds so perfect on your lips, baby.
Pure dread crumbles me to the floor, and suddenly, it's all but obvious why his pictures were in the dark, why he needed to use the flash. My eyes crawl to the door on the farside of the bathroom, which now feels hauntingly quiet. I wait for a sound, a creak of the floorboards, anything to signify a presence.
A minute later, I'm halfway convinced I'm imagining things, until goosebumps scurry across my skin. A taunting voice laughs behind the door, boasting with delight yet painfully strained.
