Robert presses harder against my clit, and I moan and grind into him, chasing my orgasm. “He didn’t let me come. He looked down at me on the floor and told me to go home to my husband.”
“And you did.” Robert’s voice is rough. He pushes two fingers inside me and curls them, and my pussy grips him so hard I shake. “You came home dripping and desperate, and I made you come three times.”
“Three times.” I’m panting now.
His teeth graze my earlobe. “I want to watch him deny you.”
My pussy floods his hand. A gush of wetness that makes him move faster, and the mental image hits me like a truck: Robert in a chair, eyes locked on me while Adrian fucks me against a wall. Watching my face when the orgasm is denied. Watching me fall apart and not lifting a finger to help.
“Holy shit.” I’m bucking now, and his cock is fully hard under my ass, straining through his pants. “Robert—fuck, I’m going to come.”
“Not yet.” He slows and pulls his fingers out.
My pussy spasms around nothing, and I whine and then laugh at my desperation.
“You bastard.”
My clit is a drumline. My whole body’s keeping time.
He pushes back in, deep, and holds. “Describe what Tony would do if I were in the room. What would he make you do while I watched?”
“He’d bend me over his desk.” I’m rocking on his hand, chasing friction. “Fuck me from behind while making me look at you the whole time. Pull my hair back so I couldn’t hide my face.” My walls grip him tighter with every image. “And when I came, he’d make me tell you I’m a slut.”
Robert’s fingers curl inside me, hard, and his grip on my hip tightens until I feel each finger separately. His voice drops to a register I haven’t heard before. “I’d watch your face the whole time. I wouldn’t look away.”
He finger fucks me slowly, and I rise to meet his thrusts. The pleasure is building faster. I’m wound so tight my toes curl. So close I can taste it.
And isn’t this the most fucked-up thing in the world? I’m fantasizing about two other men while my husband fingers me in our kitchen, and the lie in my pocket is heavier than the ring I take off every time I fuck Tony and Adrian.
“Keep going,” Robert murmurs. “Don’t stop.”
“He’d make me suck him.” The words tumble out, frantic. “While Adrian fucked me from behind. And you’d be there watching, and—oh God—“
My orgasm crests, that familiar tsunami building at the base of my spine, and I’m right there, right on the edge, my whole body pulling taut like a wire about to snap. I’m moving on my own now, thighs shaking. One more stroke, one more—
“Please,” I gasp. “Please, Robert, I need—”
He pulls out completely. His thumb sweeps away from my clit. The sensation drops off a cliff, and I cry out, a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, everything in me seizing around the stolen orgasm.
“No. No no no—” I shiver, my pussy fluttering desperately against nothing. Every nerve ending is screaming. “You fucker. You can’t—”
“I can.” His voice is smug. He runs a single finger along my slit, and my entire body lurches. “Look at you. You’re so desperate you’re begging.”
“I hate you.” The words come out breathless, and we both know it’s a lie. My pussy spasms at the proof of it. “I hate you, and I want to come so badly I might die.”
“Then tell me.” He traces my opening without pushing in, just teasing, and the torture of it is exquisite. “Tell me what it felt likewhen Adrian told you to go home to your husband. Tell me how wet you were in the car.”
“Oh god.” My head falls back, hips rolling in desperate circles. “I was dripping on the leather seats. I thought about pulling over and—”
Robert plunges two fingers deep inside me, and I completely shatter.
The orgasm tears through me with a force that makes the first edge look quaint. Wave after wave of contractions so intense I’m screaming, hand slamming flat on the kitchen table hard enough that my coffee mug rattles and tips over. Robert’s other hand grips my hip, holding me down, forcing me to take everything.
“That’s my girl.” His voice is rough. “Give it all to me.”
The ecstasy keeps coming, radiating through me in aftershocks that make me see stars. Robert keeps his fingers buried deep, his thumb working my clit in slow strokes that stretch the waves until I’m gasping and shaking and barely holding on. My vision blurs. Every breath comes out as a sob.
And somewhere underneath the pleasure, right at the base of all that blinding heat, is the cold little knot of knowing I don’t deserve this. Not tonight.
