I reach between us and undo my belt, dragging the front of my pants down just far enough.
Her eyes widen, then darken.
No words or hesitation.
My hand slips beneath her gown, dragging it past her hips in one slow, unrelenting sweep. She gasps, spine arching against the panel as I catch the underside of her thigh and lift. Her other leg stays grounded, foot still braced in a Marie Antoinette heel, the delicate curve of it trembling beneath her weight. The lifted foot wobbles. Its matching shoe dangles for a breath—then slips free and drops to the floor with a soft, decisive clatter. She’s balanced on one trembling heel, completely in my hands.
I press my forehead to hers, our breath colliding.
She shifts. Hips tilted. Offering herself without a word.
I hook a finger in the crotch of her panties and pull them aside, exposing her. I fist my cock, line up, and thrust—one hard, claiming stroke, all the way in.
Her gasp splits the quiet. Her nails bite into my shoulders, and her pussy clamps around me.
She moans into my mouth, and I drag my lips down her throat, tasting skin slick with heat and need.
“It scares me how much I want you,” she whispers, voice wrecked and trembling.
“Careful, Babygirl. Keep talking like that, and I’ll start thinking you’re the one who can’t get enough.”
“I think I’m as obsessed with you as you are with me.”
“Then we’re equally fucked.”
My mouth crashes into hers, hungry and claiming. I fuck up into her, brutal and relentless. Each thrust bounces her against the wall, silk hiked to her waist, her mouth open and wrecked as I drive in deeply.
The wet slap of our bodies echoes through the dark. It’s obscene and shameless. Her whole body tightens with every thrust.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps. Voices.
Heels hitting marble.
Laurette bites her lip hard, eyes wide, but she doesn’t freeze. And I don’t stop.
I slam her into the wall and thrust deeper. She cries out—high and desperate. Her pussy grips tighter. Her hips roll into mine, hungry for more.
Laughter echoes down the corridor. There’s only one thin door between us and exposure.
I don’t slow down… I fuck her harder. Because I want them to hear. I want Jon David to open that door and see what he’s lost forever.
Her moan tears loose, sharp and strangled. Her body clenches. She’s close. I feel it in every shake, every gasp, every fucking twitch of her thighs.
“Come for me. Let them hear who you belong to.”
She shatters, head thrown back, breath punched from her lungs. Her pussy spasms around me, clenching so hard it rips the air from my throat.
That’s it.
That’s all it takes.
I slam deep and spill inside her, the growl in my throat raw and broken. My forehead presses to hers, and my breath breaks the silence.
The voices pass, and footsteps fade.
I ease back, still inside her, reluctant to let go. Her breath is ragged as her chest rises and falls.
