Page 23 of Hidden

I do it again. Needing desperately to hear that moan against my lips again. Like a gods-damn addict.

Pausing, he pulls back just enough, that free hand gripping my neck just right. Just so. Holding me still but letting me breathe. Barely.

I want to scream, harder, tighter, to demand he open his fly and free his swollen cock. The one I’m about to beg for. I won’t beg, though. Whine, sure. But beg?

Maybe.

If it’s worth it.

His eyes flick from one of mine to the other. But the little drop of blood on his lip sends a painful spark of arousal through me.

The moan my lungs release is more desperate whine than actual keen.

Maybe both.

I tighten my legs around him as he continues to stare.

Fuck it.

My hands drop from his shirt to his belt. He could tell me his name first. He doesn’t. He could tell me no too. He doesn’t do that either.

I’m okay with that, for now. The excitement of not knowing his name dances at the edges of my desperate arousal.

Flick. There goes the belt.

Nothing. His chest heaves and those eyes dare.

Accepted.

The button of his pants goes next. Gone. Zip down.

And then his hot cock fills my hand. Thick, hard, and dripping for me. There’s a power in that. Knowing that swollen cock is for me. Because of me. My body, my excitement, my moans.

Watching him watch me, with his grip on my neck, makes me wish he’d rip this dress off. Shred it to pieces just so I could feel his hot breath on my nipples. Instead he rips the crotch out of my panties. I press up, letting the tip of his cock slip into my wet pussy. So easy I could glide down on him.

His grip flexes, just so. His eyes doing so much more work than I bet he’s even aware. Footsteps somewhere in the distance. Enzo. Leif. Loud in the dark.

I don’t care if they walk in. In fact, a part of me hopes they do.

I drop on his cock.

I hiss and moan.Him? He fucking watches me. The way I impale myself, the way my pussy swallows him whole, desperate and hungry.

And then he rolls his hips, pressing me into the door, his mouth latching onto the lobe of my ear as he rolls them again.

All I can do is hold on.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, voice gone low. “You wanted this cunt filled. You’ve wanted it since I crashed your little party.”

He rolls his hips and stays there.

If I’d known he was a talker, I would have said yes to one of those V’s sooner.

He pulls back so he can look me in the eyes, his one hand still holding me up. The other on my neck, tighter, tilting me to look at him.

“You begged for it.” A roll. “So beg. Tell me exactly what you want, Hadley.”

I can’t speak. I’m full. Pulsing around his cock, and for a split second I know I fucked something up.