“Marco—”
“I’ve got you.”
I line up and drive into her pussy in one smooth thrust. She’s tight, hot, gripping me like she never wants to let go. I set a steady, deep rhythm—hips snapping, one hand braced beside her head, the other still working that finger in her ass in time with every stroke.
Every few thrusts, I land a sharp spank on her cheek—firm, controlled, watching the skin pink under my palm. She moans into the mattress, pushing back to meet me.
The room fills with the sound of skin on skin, her muffled cries, my low growls. I lean over her, chest to her back, lips at her ear.
“You feel that?” I flex inside her. “This is me choosing you. Every inch.”
She comes hard—pussy clamping down, thighs shaking, a rush of wetness coating us both. I don’t stop. Keep fucking her through it, spanking once more, lighter now, until she’s sobbing my name and coming again, smaller but deeper, her whole body trembling.
I pull out at the last second, fist myself twice, and spill across her lower back and ass—thick, hot stripes marking her skin. She’s still catching her breath when I swipe a finger through it and bring it to her lips.
“Open.”
She does, instantly. Licks me clean, eyes locked on mine, tongue swirling until every drop is gone. The sight nearly makes me hard again.
The room is quiet except for our breathing slowly returning to normal.
“Jake would actually kill us if he walked in right now,” she says.
I’m about to respond when I hear it.
A car door slamming outside.
Then footsteps on the front walk.
Rachel sits up instantly, eyes wide. “Is that—”
It takes a moment before the front door opens downstairs. We didn’t lock it.
“Rachel?” Jake’s voice carries up the stairs. “You home?”
I’m already moving, grabbing my shirt from the floor.
“Oh my God.” She’s scrambling for her clothes, panic written across her face. “He can’t—we can’t—”
I button my pants and grab my shoes. The bedroom door is still cracked open—exactly how I left it when I heard her crying. If Jake comes upstairs, if he sees me in here like this—
“I’m coming up!” Jake’s footsteps hit the stairs.
“Window,” I mouth at Rachel, nodding toward the fire escape. “I’ll go.”
Jake’s footsteps are on the landing now.
I’m moving, sliding the window open as quietly as possible. The fire escape is cold metal under my hands as I slip through, pulling the window almost closed behind me.
My own house. I’m hiding on the fire escape of my own damn house.
Through the window, I watch Rachel smooth down her shirt and run fingers through her hair. She’s still flushed, still rumpled, but at least she’s dressed. She moves to her bedroom door just as Jake appears in the hallway.
“Hey.” Her voice is steadier than I expected. “You came over.”
“Yeah.” Jake’s tone is flat. “We need to talk.”
“Okay. Let me—give me two minutes. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
