One Dirty Night

I nodded.

Over and over and over again.

My fear over people recognising me was non-existent.

My shyness nothing more than a pile of ash.

“Answer me,” Nick ordered.

Licking my lips, doing my best to find my voice, I said, “Please, Sir…please, please fuck me.”

“Fucking hell.” Nick groaned. “Hunter, you might not want her hands on your dick while I do this. She’ll snap it off.”

“With how horny I am, I don’t think I’d care.” Hunter chuckle-grunted but unwrapped my fingers and held them over his heart. “Watch me. I want to see what you look like when he enters you.”

Our eyes locked.

His purple contacts glistened in the sconces.

And for a single moment, nothing happened.

Nick didn’t move.

Hunter didn’t blink.

I didn’t breathe.

And then…

The most erotic, epic, ecstatic experience of my life slammed into me.

Nick grabbed my hips, reared up like a beast, then mounted me in one slick, sharp, savage impale.

I tumbled forward, held up thanks to Hunter’s strength and his eyes burning into mine.

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t do a damn thing apart from feel everything.

Every thick ridge of Nicholas as he sank balls deep and claimed me in the most prehistoric way. A primal taking. A primordial claiming.

He twitched deep, deep inside me.

Every inch.

Every surge.

He gave me all of himself, and I choked on the sweetest, sharpest sensation of being completely owned by him.

“Christ,” Nick choked. “Motherfucking Christ, you feel so good.”

And that was the last thing I heard as Nicholas snapped.

He withdrew to the tip, then plunged back inside me.

Again and again.

Swift and unrestrained.