Her eyes widen slightly. “What are you doing?” she asks, not pulling away.
I drop my head to her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. I lick a path up the column of her throat, and she shivers against me. My cock stirs in my trousers.
“I don’t like how he was looking at you,” I grind out, the words barely making it past my clenched teeth.
She drives me mad with need.
“And how was that?” she breathes, her hands clenching my shirt.
I brush my lips against the shell of her ear, letting my voice drop to a growl. “Like he wanted to fuck you.”
She trembles in my arms. “And what are you going to do about it?”
I press my cock against her stomach, fusing our hips together and grinding just enough for her to feel how badly I want to be inside her. I bend at the knees, lifting her with one arm and slam her back against one of the walls, rattling the nearby frames.
“Max,” she warns. “There are cameras.”
I follow her gaze to two cameras hidden in the corner of the ceiling. A slow, wide smile stretches across my face when I see the two blinking lights. Watching. Recording.
Perfect.
“Even better,” I murmur. “Let him watch.”
Her breath catches. “You can’t be serious.”
“Then stop me,” I challenge, lifting a brow.
Her chest rises and falls, but she doesn’t move to stop me. I maneuver her weight to keep her steady with one arm while the other slowly begins to trail up the inside of her thigh. She responds immediately, crashing her lips into mine, her spine curving into me as we kiss messily.
Her legs lock around my waist as our tongues slide against each other. I shove her thong to the side to spread her wetness around her slick heat, preparing her.
“So wet,” I groan. “Is this all for me?”
“It’s for Alexander,” she teases with a devilish glint in her eye.
I pause, pulse hammering, then drop my hand from her pussy. She whimpers at the loss of contact, rocking her hipsagainst me for friction—and I slap her pussy, hard and sharp. She gasps, her head tipping back.
“Don’t ever say another man’s name while I’m playing with your cunt.”
“Max,” she moans.
I find the thin strip of fabric between her legs and rip it clean off. Her drenched, ruined thong drops to the hardwood floor just as my fingers stroke through her folds, three times, before pushing inside her. I milk my fingers in and out as she rides my hand, bearing down greedily.
“Look at you. So greedy to fuck my hand. Can’t even wait for my cock,” I tut.
My mouth latches onto the soft skin at her neck, sucking hard enough to ensure I leave a mark. She whimpers and releases breathy pants as I pump my fingers in and out. She’s dripping for me, coating my hand in her juice. Slippery and hot and perfect.
Her nails dig into my shoulders for support as I work my belt open with one hand, shoving my trousers down enough to free my cock.
“Does this pussy want my cock?” I ask against her throat, licking and sucking the spot I’ve just marked.
“Yes.” She draws in a ragged breath.
I line myself up, the tip of my cock teasing her entrance, and I drag it through her slick folds.
“Please,” she begs.
“Please, what?” I ask.
