Bastion pulls back and takes me in, his eyes darker than normal, more like a stormy sky. Then he grips my dress at the end of the zipper and rips it apart by the seam until the fabric is discarded on the floor. The act of aggression heightens some primal instinct in me, and when he bends at the waist and hoists me up over his shoulder, I don’t fight him.
One hand holds my legs, and the other is splayed across my ass since I wore a thong to avoid panty lines. He sets me on my feet near the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city and the water. With his fingers on my cheek and his thumb on my chin, he brings me in for a kiss. It’s slow and languid, the opposite of how I feel right now—charged up and ready to go—but I follow his lead.
“If we’re going to do this, I need to get you ready, Hattie. I don’t want to hurt you.” He trails his nose over my shoulder and up my neck.
I think back to the size of him in my palm and how long it’s been since I had sex. God, he’s right.
“How are you going to do that?” I ask, feeling a little foolish, as though I should already know the answer.
In response, he spins me around so I face the glass. I’m aware that though I can’t see anyone specifically, there are other buildings around that can likely see in here. Old me would have shirked away from being bare to the world, but the idea that someone might be watching, that someone could possibly see us but I would never know, only sends a triple shot of lust through my veins.
Bastion slowly lowers my thong to the floor, bending down onto his haunches behind me. I’m still wearing my shoes, but he doesn’t remove them.
As he stands, his palms glide up either side of my legs, then my hips, and last my ribs. With my back to his chest, he nudges against me, forcing me to walk forward until I’m flush against the glass, pressing my breasts against the cool surface. I shudderwhen Bastion’s hard length pierces me from behind and he clasps my wrists, drawing my hands up over my head.
“Do you think anyone’s watching?” he whispers in my ear. Goose bumps scatter along my neck.
“I… I don’t know.”
“What do you think they see?”
I close my eyes, and my forehead drops to the glass, picturing what we might look like with me naked and him pressed against me from behind, still clothed. I stifle a groan.
“Do you think they’re jealous of me?” He chuckles, and the vibration from deep in his chest hits my back. “I know they are, because I’m the lucky son of a bitch who knows what you taste like. Who knows how glorious you look when you come. And soon, it will be my fat cock shoved inside you, making you see stars.”
“Please, Bastion.” My knees give out, and I slide an inch down the glass. I’m losing all strength and willpower, soon to sink into a puddle of lust, but Bastion holds me flush to the glass. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”
His hand slips between my legs, and he groans, finding me wet and ready for him. “Arch your hips for me, babe.”
I do as he asks, and he rims my entrance with his finger before inching it inside me. It’s not like last time, though, when he barely entered me. This time, he doesn’t stop until he’s all the way in, and I clench around his finger, gasping.
“Fuck.” He bites my shoulder. “You’re so tight.”
Bastion’s finger slips out, and he gently pushes it back inside over and over until I’m panting and begging for more. Somehow, he knows, because he adds another finger inside me, slowly pushing in and out, in and out again until I grow used to it and the resistance decreases.
His forehead falls to my upper back, and he groans, holding his fingers still for a moment. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight, so fucking wet. I can’t wait to be inside you and claim you as mine.”
The word “mine” does something to me. It’s as though a wild animal comes alive in my chest, clawing to get free, and I say things I could never have imagined coming out of my mouth a month ago.
“Fuck me, Bastion. Please don’t make me wait any longer. Make me yours.”
He growls against my heated skin and moves his fingers again, rougher this time. His rhythm causes me to move up and down the glass, my nipples dragging back and forth. The friction feels so good that I don’t ever want him to stop. I want to stay here all night and have him show me what my body desires.
I lower my hands from over my head to down beside my shoulders, and I fist them against the glass, looking at the night sky and sparkling lights below. Picturing what others see, what we might look like, makes me clench, and he must feel it because he groans again behind me.
Bastion’s other hand circles around my waist and dips down until he’s circling my clit. When he scissors his fingers inside me, I cry out, all the pent-up pleasure fighting to be released.
I push back into his hands, needing more, never wanting it to end, and he adds a third finger. “Oh my god!”
The sound of him moving in and out of me fills the room along with our panting, and it only brings me closer to the brink.
“Fuck, woman. What are you doing to me?” There’s pain laced in his voice.
I can’t give him an answer. No way I could form a coherent sentence right now. I’m rocketing toward my orgasm, and it’s going to be more powerful than all of them.
“Are you ready for me, Hattie? You ready for me to ruin you?”
Finally. “Yes, please, yes.”
