He mutters something to Bonnie, rounds the counter, grabs my hand.
“Storeroom. Now.”
We barely make it to the back before he slams the door shut behind us and spins me around, pressing my back to the wall, caging me in with his arms.
“You think I didn’t notice what you were doing out there?” he growls, voice rough with need. “Flirting with your fucking straw like you didn’t just ride me this morning.”
I grin, breath catching. “Thought you looked like you needed a reminder.”
“Oh, I do.”
His mouth crashes to mine, teeth, tongue, heat. It’s a kiss that says he’s past the point of patience.
“You want it rough?” he rasps, already sliding my skirt up, his hands possessive. “Here, where anyone could walk in and hear you whimper my name?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “God, yes.”
“Good. Because I’m not going slow this time.”
He doesn’t.
He spins me around, bends me over the stack of liquor boxes, yanks my panties down just enough to expose me. The air’s cool, the floor smells like whiskey and dust, and everything about this should be wrong.
But it’s not.
It’s perfect.
His belt clinks behind me, then I feel the blunt press of him at my entrance.
“You this wet already?” he groans, dragging his cock through my folds. “You love this. Love getting used like a good little slut for me.”
“Yes—please, Will?—”
He slams into me with one brutal thrust, and I cry out, fingers clutching the edge of a crate as he sets a ruthless rhythm. Hard. Fast. Filthy.
“You wanted to tease me in front of a bar full of people?” he pants, slapping my ass. “Now you’re gonna take every damn inch. Right here. Just like this.”
He grabs my hair, yanking my head back so his mouth is at my ear.
“I should come in you again,” he growls. “Fill you up so good it drips down your thighs while you walk back into that bar.”
I moan. “Do it, Daddy. Mark me. Make me yours.”
“Already fucking am,” he snaps, pounding into me harder. “You feel that? That’s your pussy remembering who it belongs to.”
I fall apart around him, legs shaking, vision blurring. I can’t even warn him. I just scream his name and come so hard I see stars.
He groans like it kills him, then buries himself deep with a growl and spills into me, pulsing through every last thrust, holding my hips like he’ll never let go.
When it’s over, we’re both panting. Still tangled. Still hungry.
He pulls me back against him, breath hot on my neck.
“You do that shit again,” he whispers, “and I’ll bend you over every surface in this bar.”
I grin, breathless. “Promise?”
The next night we push the boundaries even more.
