All from a photo of me and my tomatoes.
ZOLTÁN: Come and ride it, kis szemtelen.
My thighs were rubbing against each other.
ZOLTÁN: You touching yourself? Is that why you’re not replying?
I hadn’t been, but my fingers were suddenly slipping under the lace.
ZOLTÁN: I am. But I’d rather be touching you. Licking you. Fucking you.
ZOLTÁN: Fia. This room is further from my mum’s.
FIA: Maybe I’ll just leave this door unlocked.
I imagined him groaning.
ZOLTÁN:No. I need you now. Come here, or I will come and take you.
FIA: You that desperate for me? You know, you’re not the only one who wants a taste.
ZOLTÁN: Oh, really?
FIA: I want you to ram your cock in my mouth until my throat memorises every vein. Until I can’t breathe.
ZOLTÁN: I thought you wanted to keep us a secret?
FIA: Yeah.
ZOLTÁN: But you’re giving me this attitude by not doing as you’re told? The longer you make me wait… the more attitude I clearly need to fuck out of you. Our parents are going to notice how you can’t walk in the morning.
My heart hammered. I loved it when he was rough with me. Maybe I’d have to up my attitude.
FIA: That hard, huh?
ZOLTÁN: For every minute you’re not choking on my cock, Fia Bacque, will be another punishment.
He loved to spank me, but we needed to be quiet.
FIA: Promise me we’ll be quiet.
ZOLTÁN: You’re the one who screams my name,baby.Bring the black box under the bed.
Oh, I knew what that meant.Kinky shit.
I paused at the door, looking left and right, heart in my throat. The second I heard Imre laughing at the TV, I made a dash for it across the hallway, the box under my arm. As quick as I dared, step by step, toe to heel, careful and silent, I eyed the door down the hall where his mum — my step-mum — would be readying herself for bed.
There was no movement. I took a deep breath and turned the knob as slowly as I could.
It was thrown open. I was tugged inside the dark room, and it closed softly behind us. The box was taken from my hands, and I was pressed into the wall, feeling his cock against my silk pyjama top.
“Took you long enough,” he moaned before kissing me and pulling me close. With Zolt, I often knew what kind of sex we were going to have by his warm-up kisses. The slow ones with tongue meant I was going to be worshipped, kisses all over my body, deep thrusts, and sloppy kisses. When he bit on mylip, I knew I was in for a ruining. When his mouth engulfed mine, I knew we were up for more than one session.
But he smothered me, his mouth hungry, wet against mine, his hands roaming my back under my pyjama top. His lips brushed mine. “I’m not—I’m not staying so far yet so close to you.”
“No,” I agreed, kissing him back and looping my arms around his neck.
He thrust against me. “You feel that? How fucking hard I am?”
