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“What are we doing? I thought we were getting a drink.”
“Change of plans,” he said as he pulled me into a dark room and slammed the door shut. Before I knew it, I was pushed up against the door and Brock’s hand was tugging my leg around his waist. His hand skimmed my thigh as he snaked his hand closer and closer to my panties.
“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly. I could feel the skirt of my dress stretching across my thighs as his hand reached my hip. He was going to tear my dress. But when his lips latched onto my neck, I forgot about my dress, about Bryce, and basically anything that didn’t have to do with Brock’s hands on me.
He palmed my breast, giving a firm squeeze as his other hand slipped beneath my panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked for me.”
I let out a staggered breath, trying to regain some semblance of awareness, but the heat of his lips dragging over my skin made it impossible to think of anything but him. His thick finger slid inside me, pumping up into me as his thumb brushed over my clit.
“Brock,” I moaned, wrapping my arms around his neck. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
My lips slid over his mouth, my tongue dueling with his. I felt his fingers in my hair, tearing at the pins holding my bun in place. But I didn’t care. I needed his lips, his fingers, and the hard length rocking between my thighs. In an act so wholly unlike me, I let my fingers trail over the button on his pants and flick it open. His harsh curse egged me on until I was bold enough to slide my hand inside his pants and grip his cock.
“Fuck, Wren,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as he pumped harder into my pussy. I started jerking him, brushing my thumb over the tip of his cock, wondering what he would taste like.
He jerked back suddenly, freeing himself from my grip. The silk of my dress was yanked up around my waist and then he was thrusting inside me. My back bounced off the door as he slammed into me. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I held on as he gripped my hips with a bruising force.
I was so lost in the fireworks rushing through me that I was taken by surprise when he slapped his hand over my mouth, his panting harsh in my ear. Then I heard it. Footsteps sounded just outside the door. Panic rushed through me and I started pushing away from him, but he banded his arm around my waist, holding me to him.
His cock pulsed inside me and then he started moving slowly, hitting me deep as he pressed his hand even harder against my mouth. I could hardly breathe, but my pussy throbbed with every rock of his body against mine. My fingernails dug into his jacket as I felt myself tightening around his cock. I gasped behind his hand, trying to hold back when someone was just outside the door.
Then a sexy smirk crossed his lips and he twisted his hips. I wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but he hit someplace deep inside me that no man had ever come close to. My eyes rolled back in my head and my hips shook as I came hard around him.
His hand was gone in a flash, replaced by his lips soaking up every cry I uttered. He spun us once again, this time his back was against the wall. “Ride me, baby.”
“I—”
His hands gripped my hips and started working me up and down on his cock. I didn’t know how he had the strength to contort his body this way and also hold me up. Within seconds, I was riding him, clenching my pussy around him just to see the look on his face as I drove him over the edge. I felt his biceps flex under his suit and slid my hands inside his jacket. His muscles rippled as he thrust into me over and over again.
“Fuck, Wren,” he growled, pulling me down on his cock one last time before spilling his cum inside me.
Exhausted, I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my cheek on his shoulder. As the fog of amazing sex lifted, I realized that I’d just had a life-altering orgasm at a gala. My dress was bunched up around my waist, my hair was down, and I didn’t even want to think about what my makeup looked like.
“Oh shit,” I whispered.
A deep chuckle echoed in my ear. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you swear.”
Now wasn’t the time for joking. I shoved at his shoulders until he let me down. Mortified, I felt his cum dribble down my inner thighs. “I need a wipe,” I hissed.
“Sure, let me grab one out of my pocket,” he laughed.
“I’m serious. You’re leaking down my legs!”
His eyes darkened dangerously as he got down on his knees and spread my legs.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
I gasped when his tongue slid over my inner thigh and up my leg. Just as before, my heart hammered in my chest as his wet tongue cleaned me up, but he wasn’t done yet. He glanced up at me just before latching onto my folds, using his tongue to lick me clean as he sucked on me. Gasping, I threaded my fingers through his hair and held him to me.
“Oh, God,” I moaned.
Fire built in my belly for the third time tonight as he devoured me, not leaving a single inch dirty. I wanted to berate him for continuing this when we should be back at the party, but it just felt so damn good. My eyes sank closed as he shoved his tongue inside me, moaning as he ate me. Was it always like this with him? Or was this just for me?
I didn’t want to think about that now. I focused on the softness of his tongue brushing against me, the way his hands slid over my legs and up my ass, caressing my skin. It was only when I shuddered against his mouth for the final time that I realized just how attached I was to the pleasure he could give, and I had only been with him twice.
When he pulled back from me, I quickly turned from him as I fixed my dress as best I could. Somewhere in the last half hour, my underwear had disappeared, and there was no way for me to find them in the dark.
“I must be a mess,” I muttered, running my fingers through my hair. There was no way to save my look. The lights flicked on and I spun, thankful it was just Brock.
