And the high never faded. In fact, it only grew.
But something shifted over dinner one night. We were eating takeout at the kitchen island when the air became thick with an unusual tension. He set his fork down and looked at me seriously. I felt my pulse in my throat beat.
“You’re starting that job in a few days,” he said.
“Yeah, Monday.” I smiled. “Excited but nervous.”
He nodded. “You’re twenty-three, Lila. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Career. Friends. Guys your age who can take you out without worrying about… this.”
My stomach dropped. “What? Where is this coming from?”
“I’m saying… Shit.” He cursed and ran a hand over his hair. “I’m more than double your age, divorced, and running a construction company that keeps me chained to job sites. You deserve better than sneaking around with your ex-stepdad.”
I set my fork down hard. “That’s not your call. It’s a joint decision. But if you want to end whatever this is between us, then just say that. Don’t make up some bullshit reasoning like you’re doing it for my benefit.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s wrong. I know it. You know it. I worry I’m holding you back. Ruining your future.”
“You’re not ruining anything.” My voice sharpened. “I chose this. I want this. You.”
He looked away. “Doesn’t make it right.” He paced the kitchen, hand raking through his hair. “I’m just worried about you. About the risks you might face if everything comes to light. People talk in this town.”
“So we stop?” I snapped, anger flaring hot. “Is that what you want? Pretend nothing happened?”
He stopped pacing and faced me. “I want you safe. Happy.”
Tears burned my eyes. “I’m happy with you. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because I see the age difference. The history. The way it’s all fucked up.” His voice cracked. “I love you, Lila. That’s why I’m scared.”
The words hung between us. It was the first time he’d said them. My anger shattered. “I love you, too,” I whispered. “That’s why I’m fighting for us.”
He closed the distance in two strides and hauled me against him. Our mouths crashed together as he shoved my leggings down roughly and freed himself from his jeans.
“Ride me,” he ordered, sitting on the chair and pulling me onto his lap.
I gripped his thick cock and notched it at my pussy hole, sinking down slowly, taking every huge inch until he was buried deep. We both groaned. Then I started moving. I rolled my hips, grinding down.
“Fuck,” he rasped, hands sliding under my shirt to cup my breasts. He squeezed one lightly, and I gasped in pleasure and pain. “Ride me. Really fuck that perfect pussy on my dick.”
The words sent heat spiraling through me. I picked up speed, bouncing on his cock, pussy clenching around him. He squeezed my breasts again, harder, thumbs flicking my nipples until they throbbed.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Fuck my cock like you own it. Like you’ve wanted this since you were barely legal under my roof.”
The light role-play teased our past without diving too deeply. And it ignited everything. I rode him faster, nails digging into him, moaning his name. His hand slid between us, thumb circling my clit in tight strokes.
“Come for me, sweet girl. I want my lap to be sloppy wet from you getting off on my dick,” he commanded.
I shattered so hard I couldn’t hold in the loud mewling sound that left me. My pussy pulsed and soaked him as I ground down. Marcus thrust up once, twice, and then came with a guttural groan, filling me deep.
We stayed locked together for long moments afterward, panting, his arms wrapping around me tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against my hair.
“Me, too.”
Our secret felt thinner than ever, and I had hope that things would work out exactly how they were supposed to.
Chapter Eleven
