“You know what you are to me, don’t you?” he asked and stood, pulling my chair a few inches forward. The drag of the metal against concrete didn’t sound loud as the press started to come into the tent outside of Ever’s little office.
Their voices were crystal clear.
“Right now, no,” I sighed.
His finger angled me to look up at him. “Do you need reminding?”
Before I could think, he spun my chair to face away from him and leaned down to kiss me, his hands travelling over my top down to the buttons of my trousers.
My breath caught in his, and he kissed me harder, unzipping me, then his fingers slipped under the lace. He halted just before my clit, and I wriggled, trying to kiss his motionless lips.“Tell me what we are, Fia.”
But I didn’t know.
We hadn’t spoken about it. There was no actual label upon us other than family.
“Tell me,”he begged, his voice raw, lips brushing mine.
“You’re my—my boyfriend.”
He nodded, his nose brushing mine, and he put the slightest pressure against where I wanted, rolling the lightest of circles.“Tell me more.”
“I’m your girlfriend,”I admitted, and it felt like an expulsion of relief from my chest as he picked up the pace.
“More.”
“If you give me more.”
He chuckled against my throat. “Always, Zsófia.”
With expert speed, his thumb replaced his fingers, and they edged my entrance.
I closed my eyes, trying to grind down on him.
“Nuh-uh,” he whispered and tsked. “Speak.”
“I’m yours,” I told him, as he started to pulse his fingers inside of me, planting kisses down my neck. “You’re mine.”
“True.”
“You love me.”
“Exactly.”
His thrusts picked up, and thank god the wet noises were swallowed up by the press chatting away in the tent. They felt a million miles away, even if they were mere metres.
He kissed my temple like he was soothing me, like he wasn’t inside of me, but his hand remained relentless. He knew exactly how to circle, how to tease.
“Zolt—” My voice came out like a plea.
“Quiet,” he demanded, lips grazing my ear. “Don’t give them a show. Just me. Only me. You’re mine.”
I’d said it, but hearing his rough voice claim me made my breath stutter.
“That’s what you are,” he said, somehow picking up more speed as he squeezed my breast. “They can call you anything they want. You know what we are. We know. And that’s all that matters.”
They could very quickly know if they walked past the tent walls. If they stopped their chatter and listened.
The danger made it worse— better. I swallowed down every gasp, I bit down on my lip until I could taste blood, knowing every grind of my hips into his palm, every thrust of his fingers could lead to us getting caught.
