His breath ghosts over the shell of my ear, low and panty-melting. “Do you need reassurance of who I belong to, beautiful?”
My pulse skitters, my breathing unsteady. I try to look over my shoulder to catch his eyes, but the theater is too dark. “What are you doing? Someone could come in here.”
He may have booked the entire theater, but there are still ushers and staff around. All it would take is for one overachieving teenager to open the door and, bam, we’d be headlining tabloids for weeks.
Patton presses closer, dragging his tongue in a wicked line along my neck. “Then let’s give them something to see.”
And just like that, all thoughts of Simone Ashley go flying through the nearest exit.
My nerve endings come alive, my nipples pucker, and molten heat pools low in my belly, seeping into my panties. The depravity and risk of it all courses through my veins like jet fuel.
“Oh, God,” I whisper shakily, any further protests scattering when I feel the ridge of his cock nuzzle in between my ass cheeks.
Sinking to his haunches, Patton wastes no time dragging my panties down in one urgent motion, before rising again like a large cat reclaiming its prey. He hikes up my cream-colored, thigh-length sweater-dress to expose my ass before sliding his fingers through my folds. His groan is low and guttural.
His other hand grabs a fistful of my hair before he yanks my head back just enough for his lips to graze my ear. “All that fear and worry, yet your pussy is dripping for me. Now widen your legs. I need to remind this pussy to never doubt her worth.”
Oh, God. This man’s filthy mouth.
A strangled sound leaves me when he slips two fingers inside, meeting no resistance, as if my body was waiting for him to fill me all this time. My eyes droop and my knees wobble as I try to stay upright against the wall, but he’s right there behind me, holding me up with his hard body pressed against mine.
“Patton,” I gasp, even as my body contradicts my protest, my hips jerking against his hand, needy and desperate. “We can’t?—”
“We can,” he growls, his voice vibrating against my skin. “And we will. I’m just getting started, beautiful.”
And before I can even begin to form any more thoughts, his fingers are thrusting inside me, wreaking havoc in my core, my chest, and all my senses. His other hand comes around me to circle my clit while his mouth continues to suck and bite my neck.
The man knows my body like no one ever has, anticipating my needs before even I can, giving me way more than he’s ever asked for in return.
My hands tighten into fists against the wall as my body undulates over his fingers. Patton brushes that sweet spot deep inside me with focus and precision, like making me unravel isn’t just a desire, it’s his calling.
A few more perfect strokes and I’m shaking around him, because of course I am. The man is a god amongst men, capableof making my body do his bidding with nothing more than his touch.
I’m just catching my breath when I hear the unmistakable sound of his zipper dropping before the head of his cock nudges against my entrance.
His hand comes around, splaying over my belly. “Bend over for me, beautiful. I don’t want your stomach hitting the wall while I fuck you.”
I do as he says, but have to widen my legs even more to give him access. I nearly sob with relief when he plunges inside me in one long stroke, filling and stretching me to mold around him. Then, grabbing my chin with the same hand that was inside me, he presses his fingers between my lips.
“Suck. Taste how much your pussy loves me.”
I do as he says, moaning around his fingers and licking up my juices as our bodies collide, making the most obscene sounds in the empty theater.
Every snap of his hips ricochets through me, getting me impossibly wetter and flooding me with illicit heat. My legs shake as my walls contract as a hum of electricity builds around us, ready to strike.
His grip in my hair is unrelenting, every stroke inside me both claiming and possessive, but also careful and aware. Like he’s purposely holding himself back from going as hard and fast as we both want because I’m carrying our most prized possession.
“Say it, baby,” he pants in my ear, his breaths as ragged as mine as he pulls his fingers out of my mouth. “Whose pussy does this cock belong to?”
“M-mine,” I stutter, my eyes rolling back from the pleasure sparking inside me from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair where his fingers are still tangled.
“That’s right, sweetheart. And who do I belong to?”
“Me.”
“Just like you belong to me.”
I nod, swallowing the groan that would echo down the hall for anyone to hear. “I know.”
