In the car, I’m quiet. Still flushed. Still feeling it.
He rests one warm hand on my thigh as he starts the car and begins driving. “You did good in there.”
I nod, not trusting my voice yet.
As we pull into his building, I glance over, and his hand tightens gently.
“Stay the night,” he murmurs, not looking at me. “I’m not done with you.”
9
ETHAN
She says yes with that little nod, and that’s all I need.
The elevator doors slide closed behind us, and I press the button for the penthouse. The second the panel lights up, I back her into the mirrored wall.
She stumbles, breath catching, her heels clicking as she hits the glass.
“Thought you’d keep playing coy?” I quietly ask.
Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Just a breath, and the flush of anticipation in her cheeks. I drag one hand up her thigh, under the slit of that sinfully tight dress she’s got on.
“Lift it,” I say.
She does it fast, exposing bare skin, and I find she’s already wet. I hook a finger around the thin band of the plug and tug lightly. She whimpers. My mouth curves.
“This,” I murmur, “is what obedience looks like.”
I press a kiss just beneath her jaw, soft for a second, then bite. She gasps, and I press her harder into the mirror, one hand gripping her thigh to keep her open for me.
“You could’ve said no.” I grind against her, slow, enough for her to feel the shape of me through my pants. “You could’ve made me wait.”
“I didn’t want to,” she whispers.
“I know.”
The elevator climbs too slowly for what I want. I hook her leg over my hip and rut against her with steady pressure, watching her mouth fall open. She’s not shy anymore. She moans when I want her to. Breathes harder when I deepen the rhythm.
“You know what I think about, Lila?”
She shakes her head, dazed.
“I think about that little sound you make when you come.” I roll my hips again. “I think about how long I can make you ride the edge before you fall apart.”
My hand wraps around her throat—not tight, just enough to keep her still while I speak against her mouth.
“I think about how wet you get when I tell you you’re mine.”
She shudders.
I lower my head, kiss her, bite her bottom lip until she gasps again, then slide my tongue in and take what I want. She clings to my shirt, nails biting through the fabric, trying to keep up.
“You’re trembling.”
“It’s the heels,” she lies.
I press the remote again. Her knees buckle.
