His fingers curled again, harder this time, fucking into me until my hips were moving on instinct, chasing the next wave.I rocked against his mouth, shameless and aching, grinding down on his face like I owned it—like he wanted to be used, worshipped, swallowed whole by me.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, voice wrecked, breath hot against my soaked skin.“Use my face.Take what you need.Fuck yourself on my tongue—give it to me.”
And I did.
I gave him everything.
Because in that moment, there was no pride left, no distance I could keep.No walls, no logic, no protection from him.Just heat, rhythm, and the truth of what we were when no one was watching.
I let go in a way I only did with him because I felt safe, cherished, and loved.
My hands were tangled in his hair, my thighs clenched tight around his head, and I rode him like I was starved for it.Like he was air, and I’d been drowning without him.Every lick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers inside me, pulled me closer to the edge—and I didn’t fucking care if I shattered.
I wanted to.
Because with Roderick, surrender wasn’t weakness.It was freedom.It was the only time I didn’t feel like I had to be smart, careful, or controlled.
With him, I could fall apart.
And he loved watching me do it.
“You like that?”he growled, lips slick, voice vibrating right where I needed it.“You love using my face like this.Fucking ruin me, Kit.Come for me.”
My vision blurred.I was panting, flushed, soaked in sweat, wanting, and everything I didn’t know how to say.Every muscle in my body trembled as the orgasm ripped through me—hot and feral and blinding.I cried out, not just from the release, but from how deep it went.How much of me it stripped bare.
I came undone on his tongue, again and again, until my body went limp against the door, and still—still—he didn’t stop.He licked me through it, fingers slowing but not pulling away, coaxing every last wave from me like he wanted to memorize it.
And when he finally stood, mouth wet, eyes dark and blown wide, I saw it—the thing he never said but always showed me when we were alone.
Love.
Wild.Twisted.Fucked-up—but ours.
And I hated how much I still felt it too.
I pulled him up by the collar of his drenched shirt, my legs still trembling, my breath ragged in my throat.His mouth met mine without hesitation—hungry, open, slick with everything he’d just taken from me.I kissed him deep, tasting myself on his tongue, and it was filthy and honest and fucking perfect.
He groaned into it, hands gripping my waist like he didn’t know whether to lift me again or fuck me against the door until we forgot our names.
“You taste so fucking good on my lips,” he rasped, his mouth brushing mine as I dragged my hands down his chest, pushing the soaked fabric up to feel skin.“I could live off you.”
I rolled my hips against the thick press of him through his jeans, needing more, needing him inside me already.My whole body throbbed with the ache of it.
“You gonna let me fuck you, Kit?”he whispered, biting down softly on my bottom lip.“Right here.Right now.You’re so fucking wet, I could slide in without effort, stretch you open until you scream for me.”
“Condom,” I gasped.“Now.”
He laughed—low, feral, flushed with lust.“Fuck, yes.”
He shoved his jeans and boxers down just enough, his cock springing free—hard, flushed, glistening at the tip.He reached into his back pocket, tore the foil open with his teeth, and rolled it on with practiced ease, all while keeping his eyes on me.
“Been thinking about this ...I’ve dreamed about this,” he murmured, his voice turning raw again.“Your pussy wrapped around me.So fucking tight.So warm.You were made for me, Kit.”
I braced myself against the door, chest rising fast, eyes locked on his.
“Then take me,” I whispered.
He didn’t wait.
