“No, sir,” I groan in response as his fingers sink into my thighs, spreading them wider.
“Bad girls get a long, hard fuck,” he murmurs, winking as he slides down the zipper of his slacks and frees his cock.
I wet my lower lip at the sight of the large purple head. His long, beautiful erection juts upward proudly. Thick veins throb, and my own folds quiver in synchronized movements. I swallow hard, anticipation coiling inside me when Ray tears the wrapper of a condom with his teeth and sheaths himself.
He rubs his shaft along my folds, coating himself in my pleasure. “Hold on tight.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He groans as he thrusts his hips forward, filling me up to the hilt. It’s been a while for me since I last had sex. And he is large, so I expect some discomfort. But his hands roaming over my body ignite a fire that I can’t want to control. Neither do I want to. I relish the sensation of being stuffed to the brink of pain.
He kisses a trail up my neck until his lips are on mine. His tongue invades me, inviting me to dance, twisting and swirling. I arch into him, giving in to the hunger that’s been building between us all night. His touch is everywhere, relentless and possessive. I’m drowning in him, in the taste of him mingling with the remnants of my pleasure still coating his mouth.
His touch is demanding but also steady and sure, grounding me even as he takes me apart.
I toss away the role-playing, reaching for him and pulling him closer. “I need to feel every inch of you, Ray. I want to lose myself in the way you make me feel alive.”
“Right back at you, gorgeous,” he grunts, speeding up his thrusts.
Our movements grow frantic, our breaths mingling as we give in to the pull that’s been simmering beneath the surface since that moment I opened the door to him a couple of days ago.
Now, I tug at his shirt, my hands roaming over the hard planes of his chest over the soft fabric. He lets out a low growl, his fingers digging into my hips as he pulls me closer, aligning our bodies with a precision that feels electric. Tension escalates in my muscles as pleasure accumulates.
“Not. Able. Hold. Out,” I gasp each word as his hard body slams against mine.
“Almost,” he groans, sliding his palms under my ass, lifting me and crushing me against his chest.
Two more pumps of his erection inside me, and my head rolls over my shoulders. My ears buzz, and I gulp for air as I announce, “Gonna. Come.”
“Do it!”
We orgasm together in a blur of heat and sensations, our bodies moving in sync like we’ve been doing this forever. He kisses me deeply, his hands finding every sensitive spot, every place that makes me forget everything but this moment. Nothing matters except Ray and me right now.
The piano shudders beneath me when he settles me back on it. The instrument is the only witness to the intensity of the passion that burns us, to the way we lose ourselves in each other, in the need that has been building for years, unresolved and undeniable.
I clutch at him as he drives me closer to another earth-shattering release.
“Ray!” His name slips from my lips in a breathless whisper, mingling with our shared breaths.
And when we shatter for the last time, the world falls away.
Moments later, as we come down to reality, I can’t help but wonder what’s changed in Ray—what kind of darkness lies behind the gorgeous face of the man he’s become.
He helps me down the piano and I take a moment to steady my trembling legs as I watch him straighten his clothes.
I want to ask him if we’ll see each other again but I don’t dare say a word.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead before turning to leave.
At the doorway, he glances back. My chest tightens, and I hold my breath. But he steps out.
My heart stutters, and I exhale sharply. I’m not sure if I’m afraid of what I might find if I get closer to Ray or if I fear I won’t get the chance.
9
SOPHIA
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the sweetness of maple syrup, filling the air of my parents' kitchen. Sunlight streams through the large windows, turning the snow-covered world outside into a dazzling sea of white. The dining room, cozy and familiar, feels like a warm cocoon against the chill beyond the glass, while the eventful evening of my sister’s wedding seems like a lifetime ago instead of only two nights.
Struggling to banish the images of Ray coming undone in that storage room, I focus on the people around me. My dad sits at the head of the table, his silver hair catching the morning light, his face a perfect blend of timeless kindness and quiet strength. Mom flits around the kitchen like a snowflake in motion. Not a strand of her short, auburn hair gets out of place despite the bustle. She’s humming a cheerful Christmas carol while flipping pancakes on the stove. The golden edges sizzle on the griddle, matching the warm wood tones of the cabinets and ceiling. It’s a scene I’ve missed more than I’ll admit out loud, even to myself.
