Aleksei groans, low in his throat, hips jerking slightly as my voice continues.
“I spread my legs for him,” I hear myself say, breath catching just enough to sound real, needy. “I’m already wet. I can feelit soaking my panties, dripping when he finally touches me. I want him to know what he’s doing to me.”
My entire body reacts.
Heat floods between my thighs so fast it’s dizzying. My panties are instantly damp, slick with arousal, clinging to me as if they’re giving me away. I press my thighs together, trying to ground myself, but it only makes the ache sharper.
I can’t look away.
He strokes himself harder now, water splashing as his breathing turns rough. My voice keeps going, relentless, intimate, exposing me in ways I never imagined anyone would hear in real life.
“I want him inside me,” the recording murmurs. “Slow at first. Letting me feel every inch. Letting me stretch around him until I’m begging for more.”
"His mouth finds my breast, tongue circling, teeth grazing my nipple until I cry out while he fucks me relentlessly?—"
Aleksei jerks his fist faster, hips grinding into his hand. He doesn’t know I’m here. The heat in the room is suffocating, the rawness of the moment so intense my knees almost give out.
I gasp again. This time louder.
Aleksei freezes.
Then he turns.
His eyes lock on mine through the steam—dark, blown wide, feral with shock and hunger—and something breaks completely. He swears, sharp and guttural, hand tightening around his cock as his control finally snaps.
He comes with a broken groan, hips thrusting forward as release pulses through him, thick and unrestrained. The sight ofhim, undone byme, hits straight between my legs.
I’m soaked. Completely. My body aches, needy and exposed, my breath coming in short, helpless pulls as I stand there trembling.
My instincts finally kick in—run—and I whirl, heart pounding, bolting for the door. But I barely make it three steps before a strong arm closes around my waist, lifting me clean off the floor. I gasp, twisting, trying to break free, but he’s unyielding, a wall of muscle and heat pressed against my back.
“Let me go!” I manage, my voice shaking, desperate and wanting all at once. I know no one can hear us. The office is too far, the walls too thick.
He holds me easily, like I weigh nothing at all. His arm tightens, pulling me flush against his chest, his other hand sliding up—so close to my breast I can feel the heat of his skin through my blouse. I shudder, fighting the urge to arch into his touch.
I want to hate this. I should. But my body is betraying me, every nerve on fire, every inch of me aching for more.
He turns, pinning me gently but firmly against the cold, tiled wall. The steam still curls around us, making every sensation sharper, more intense. He leans down, lips brushing the shell of my ear, voice gravelly and low.
“Quiet.”
My breath catches, the word vibrating through my skin. I freeze, pulse skittering wildly as his hand trails lower, over my stomach, hips, until it dips between my legs.
He finds me there—soaked, throbbing, open—and his fingers pause, just long enough to make me whimper.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he whispers, awe and hunger tangled in his tone.
I bite my lip, a desperate sound breaking free, half-ashamed, half-pleading. I want him to touch me—please, God, just touch me—but instead, he steps back, letting the cool air hit my skin where his body just was.
I’m left trembling, pinned to the wall by nothing but the memory of his hands and the need he’s woken in me, my whole world narrowed to the aching emptiness where I want him most.
My whole body is shaking, the wall cool against my back, my chest heaving as I try to pull myself together. He’s still so close I can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the shower mist swirling around us, making everything feel unreal, too sharp, too intimate.
I turn around slowly. He’s barely inches away, now wrapped in nothing but a low-slung white towel, water glistening on his chest.
Aleksei’s eyes are locked on mine, dark and wild, as if he’s barely restraining himself. I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. My legs are weak, my panties drenched, my heart beating so fast it hurts.
I open my mouth to say something—an apology, a plea, I don’t even know—but nothing comes out. Instead, he steps in, his hands bracing the wall on either side of my head, caging me in with his body, his lips just a breath away from mine.
