He changes angles and my body starts to convulse, wetness rushing around his cock as I begin to lose all control of my body. When he realizes he’s found the sweet spot, he plays me like an instrument, forcing my body to do as he wants. He moans through his teeth at the feeling of me squirting around him, his own rhythm beginning to stutter until we fall over that cliff together. Despite the clothing in our mouths, it’s hard to keep the sounds from growing in crescendo until I’m certain someone must hear us. I shiver and shake in the chair as he pumps inside me, his warmth filling me until it too begins to spill out, mixing with my own release.
We’re both panting, sweat beading on our brows. It takes me far longer to catch my breath than it does him, and when he straightens, he pulls my underwear from his teeth and shoves them into his pocket as he sets his slacks back to rights.
“You’re going to do that again,” he says, dragging me up from the chair. I stumble, my legs like jelly, but he catches me and keeps me upright. “And again. And again.”
“Do I get to be in charge next time?” I ask, my voice raspy and weak as I cling to him.
“Maybe,” he murmurs, leaning down to press his lips to mine in a tender kiss that makes what we’d just done seem even more raunchy. “Maybe I’ll let you walk me around like a dog on a leash. Maybe I’ll let you tie me up.”
My chest squeezes. “Maybe I’d like that.”
His lips press against mine again. “Let’s get out of here so they can tailor the dress. We’ve held them up long enough.”
I can’t look at the woman at the front when we leave. Not right away. It isn’t until my eyes flick up after Dagen pays that I see the flushed jealousy on her cheeks.
“Have a great day,” she tells me. And she means it.
Even through the jealousy, she still winks when Dagen looks away and mouths the words, “Get it, girl.”
I don’t think it’s possible for me to turn any redder than I already am.
Thirty-Four
Wylan
I’m the first one to show up to Ava’s house on Saturday. I could lie and say it’s an accident, but it’s completely intentional. Any chance to get Ava alone is a chance I’m going to take. To do otherwise would be a crime to humanity. Or something like that.
I don’t bother using the front door. I simply slip in through my usual way—the side window where I know how to fiddle with the security block exactly right—and trail through the house. I can hear giggles coming from upstairs, so I follow the sound to Ava’s bedroom and lean against the doorjamb. Ava is standing in the middle of the room in a bloody fantastic red silk dress that highlights her curves and leaves little to the imagination. Elsie is sitting on the bed, kicking her feet and gushing about the red dress just as much as I admire it.
“Well, look what we have here,” I say, drawing their attention. Both of them jerk and I regret my decision for a brief second until they both relax at the same time when they realize it’s only me. “I like the dress, crumpet.”
Ava flushes. “Is everyone here?”
I shake my head. “Just me.”
She eyes me. “How exactly do you get around so fast? You never use the door, and I never see a car. You’re like freaking Spiderman.”
Grinning, I shrug. I could tell her that I drive a motorbike I usually park around the corner, but where would the fun in that be? If she wants to think of me as a vigilante hero, then let her. I’d much rather her think that than her thinking I’m a villain.
Even if I very much am a villain.
“I was just finishing up,” she says, reaching for a pretty necklace sitting on the table.
“Allow me,” I murmur, coming forward and swiping up the necklace before she can grab it. I hold it between my fingers and instruct her to spin toward the mirror. From behind, I gently lower the necklace around her neck, the tiny golden heart hanging at her throat. My eyes meet hers in the mirror and that throat bobs, a telltale sign that she’s as affected by me as I am by her. I carefully clasp the necklace before settling my hands on her bare shoulders, my thumbs stroking her skin there until tiny gooseflesh pops up.
“Beautiful,” I tell her, before leaning down to press a kiss against the side of her neck. She shivers against me and flushes, but she doesn’t pull away.
“I think you need a tiara,” Elsie chimes in, reminding me that we’re not alone. “A tiara would make it even more perfect.”
Ava laughs. “It might.”
“Unfortunately, a tiara would get in the way of the mask,” I say, smiling at Elsie. “Or else I’d wear one, too.”
“Mask?” she asks, frowning. “What mask?”
“Ah, yes,” I say, launching into my debonair voice. “The rich love one thing more than anything else: debauchery. And what better way to commit sins of debauchery than behind an ornate masquerade mask?” I shrug. “The sheer number of masquerades I’ve been to would astound you.”
“Sounds fun!” Elsie gushes, her bright smile infectious.
