He chuckles, a dark, dirty sound, and stepped back just enough to unbuckle his belt. His jeans drop to the floor, and I am met with the sight of his thick, throbbing cock, already leaking pre-cum. My mouth waters, and I drop to my knees without thinking. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Shut up and let me,” I reply, reaching out to stroke him. His skin was hot, his veins pulsing with need. I wrap my hand around his shaft, squeezing gently, and he hisses, his head tipping back. “You like that?” I teased, my thumb smearing the wetness at his tip.
“Fuck, Riley,” he groans. “If you keep that up, I’m not going to last.”
I smirk, leaning in to lick a stripe up his length. His hands tangle in my ponytail, holding me steady as I took him into my mouth. I sucked gently at first, teasing the head, before swallowing him down, deep-throating him until my nose brushed his coarse hair. He curses, his hips jerking, but I held him firm, my tongue swirling as I pull back.
“Goddamn, you’re good,” he pants, his grip tightening. “But I need to be inside you. Now.”
I stand, my cheeks flushed, my body buzzing with anticipation. He steps closer, his hands sliding down to the waistband of my leggings. I kick them off, along with my panties, and he groans at the sight of my wet, glistening pussy. “So fucking perfect,” he murmured, his fingers tracing my folds. I shudder as he dipped inside, his touch sending sparks through me.
“Jason,” I plead, my legs trembling. “I need you.”
He didn’t make me wait. He lined up his cock, pressing the head to my entrance, and thrust in one smooth, relentless motion. I gasp, my hands clutching his shoulders as he fills me completely. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he growls, his hips snapping forward.
I moan, my head falling back as he set a brutal pace. Each thrust was deep, deliberate, hitting that spot that makes me see stars. My walls clench around him, and I could feel my orgasm building, a tight coil ready to snap. “Harder,” I demand, my nails digging into his skin.
He obliges, pounding into me with a ferocity that leaves me breathless. The rain tapped against the window, the room dim and charged with our desire. “Cum for me, Riley,” he commands, his voice rough. “Let me feel you fall apart.”
I was teetering on the edge, my body trembling, when he reached between us, his fingers finding my clit. He rubs firm circles, and I shatter. My orgasm ripped through me, waves of pleasure crashing over and over. I scream his name, my walls milking his cock as he kept thrusting, chasing his own release.
“Fuck, Riley,” he groans, his pace faltering. He pulls out, gripping my hip as he pressed himself against my ass, his cock throbbing against my entrance. “I’m close. Tell me what you want.”
“Inside me,” I pant, my voice hoarse. “Fill me up.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He slams back into me, his hands gripping my hips like he’s anchoring himself. His thrusts are frantic now, his breath coming in sharp gasps. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “So fucking good.”
I’m on the brink again, my body still buzzing from the first orgasm. His cock twitches inside me, and I know he’s close. “Cum for me, Jason,” I whisper, my fingers digging into the sheets. “Let go.”
He groans, his hips stuttering as he empties himself deep inside me. His cum pulses hot, filling me, and I shudder, my own orgasm crashing into me again. We collapse onto the bed, limbs tangled, hearts racing.
The rain taps against the window, the room dim and quiet. Jason rolls onto his side, pulling me into his chest. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, and I close my eyes, savoring the weight of him, the warmth of his skin.
“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my hair. “We figure it out.”
I nod, my hand resting on his chest, feeling his heart slow to match mine. The future stretches out, uncertain but full of possibility. And in this moment, with his arms around me, I know one thing for sure: tonight, we breathe.
“I love you,” he says, low and unperformed. No crescendo. No arena. Just truth offered in a quiet room. My throat burns. I open my mouth to answer, to give him back the word I’ve been hoarding like contraband—when the night explodes.
A white pulse burns through the curtain’s edge—bright as lightning, wrong as a lie. I flinch, heart ricocheting to my throat. Another burst pops, closer, the sound of a camera working too fast for its own good. The curtains flash-shadow a shape on the fire escape: a head, a shoulder, the long outline of a lens angling for a slit of our life.
Jason is in motion before I can gasp. He pivots, one arm banding me back, the other ripping the curtain tighter against the frame. “Back,” he says, calm and lethal, ice-under-pressure voice he saves for split-second plays. “Riley, behind me.”
Adrenaline blows the hinges off my composure. I can taste the metallic panic again, feel the tremor start at my knees. My phone—God, my phone is still in his pocket, mercifully mute. The window brightens with another pop. Somewhere below, a voice hisses, “Got it—got it—” over wet metal.
He reaches past the curtain for the stick that holds the window lock—a stupid little wooden dowel I never removed after the last tenant. He jams it tighter, tests the latch, shoulders set like he could hold the whole building in place if he had to. Then he turns, puts both hands on my face, bringing me back to the only frame that matters.
“Look at me,” he says. I do. “We’re okay. They don’t get to script this.”
“I can’t—” The word shreds. “Not like this.”
“We won’t,” he promises, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “Five minutes at a time, remember?” His gaze flicks past me to the window, jaw hardening. “First five starts now.”
Another blinding flash detonates against the glass. The lens glints in the split, unblinking. My breath stalls.
The doorknob to the hallway rattles once, hard.
Chapter 24
