My fingers rise to circle around the nape of her neck and squeeze lightly. “The things I would do to you, Winter…”
Her arms tighten around me as I lift my thigh to brush between her legs. She whimpers into my mouth, so I do it again, applying more pressure where she wants it. Her fingertips dig into the muscles of my shoulders, and I like the bite of pain that comes with her nails sinking into my flesh.
My hands move down her body and rest on her hips to start guiding her to use my leg to get off with. If the door had a lock on it, I’d strip her jeans off and bury my face in her cunt until she came at least twice. But I don’t have the luxury of a lock or time before Ashton, or God knows who, comes back and disrupts us.
“That’s it,” I coax, watching her face morph with pleasure as she rocks against me. She already looks close. So responsive. Somineat this moment. “Come on my thigh, Winter. I can see how badly you want to.”
It’s easy to see that she’s on the brink. I want to dive under her shirt and bite her nipple and slide my hand into her panties and play with her clit. But something tells me if I go out there smelling like I’d just gotten freshly laid, it would cause some problems.
So I do neither of those things.
I do, however, press my thumb against her over her jeans. And the jerking motion that thrusts her hips forward as she tips her head back and opens her mouth into anOtells me that’s all she needed before going over the edge.
“Christ, you’re so sensitive,” I praise as she rides out the orgasm. Watching her come is an ethereal experience. The stiff, guarded expression usually on her face is now long gone and replaced by bliss and sedation.
It’s too goddamn much.
I set her down and barely have time to undo my jeans before I’m coming in my hand. I stabilize myself on the wall as my head tilts back and hot cum spurts onto my stomach as I picture her falling apart on repeat.
“Christ,” I mumble, catching my breath as I examine the mess I made of myself. If she could do this to me with our clothes on, I can’t imagine the destruction of my sanity when I’m inside her.
From beside me, I hear the quietest, “Oh my God.”
When I glance over my shoulder at Winter, she’s staring at me with glassy eyes and parted lips. Her focus is on the cock still hard in my hand, not that she can see much from her angle. If she did, her eyes would be a hell of a lot wider at the silver piercing.
“Oh my God,” she says again, this time more panicked. As though ice water had been dumped on her, she slams into the wall and covers her face.
“Winter—”
“You’remarried,” she rasps, shame filling her tone as she shakes her head against the palms covering her eyes. “You are a married man, and I—Andwe—”
I tuck myself away, grab a tissue from the table off to the side, and wipe away any evidence of what we’d just done. Anybodywho comes in will be able to smell the sex in the air. But I don’t care right now. Not when she’s on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.
“Winter,” I begin again, turning to face her.
Her face is still cupped in her hands, hiding from the reality of the situation. “I’m a horrible person. If Hell really does exist, I’m going there. Oh myGod—”
I pull her hands away from her face. “Look at me,” I demand, giving her no other option. “I need you to look at me, Winter.”
She swallows, lets out a shallow breath, and then slowly lifts her gaze to meet mine. Guilt is weighing on her face as her nostrils twitch and her eyes rapidly blink to fend off the tears building behind them.
When I know she won’t look away or shut down, I say, “I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to listen and repeat it to nobody. Do you understand?”
Confused, she nods slowly.
“Good girl,” I praise, running the pad of my thumb against her bottom lip and feeling a shaky breath brush against the pad. “Emaly and I are not together.”
Her eyes widen.“W-what?”
“We’re married,” I confirm, only making her confusion grow. “But we’re not together…like that. It’s complicated, and not fully my story to tell. But I am free to do what and who I please. And that information needs to stay between us for obvious reasons.”
Her silence is deafening, and I can tell she needs time to process. Understandable, given my reputation. Given everything she’s ever read about me, the truth probably isn’t easy to accept.
“So you’re not a horrible person,” I reassure her firmly. A small smile tilts my lips. “And if youdogo to Hell, it won’t be because you let a married man make you come.”
A new wave of heat covers her face, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself over the embarrassment resting there.
An impatient fist bangs on the door, startling her. Whether she means to or not, she hides behind me to mask herself from anybody seeing who’s in here with me.
