I reach up, tugging the tie in his hair free so it all spills down, messy and wild. I fist my hands in it, yanking hishead down to mine. Our lips crash together, and his tongue invades my mouth.
I whimper into the kiss, letting my hands roam, my palms sliding over the hard planes of his chest, my fingers tracing the ridges of his abs through his thin T-shirt. He’s built like a fucking tank, all corded muscle and brute strength, and the way he tenses under my touch tells me he’s just as gone as I am. The high has us both floating. Every sensation is amplified — the drag of his jeans against mine, the way his pulse jumps when I graze my thumb over his nipple through the fabric.
“Fuck,” he hisses, but he doesn’t stop me. Instead, his hands hold on to my hips, his fingers digging in hard as he grinds back against me. I can feel how hard he is through the layers and the way his breath hitches when I roll myhips just right.
I can’t stop touching him. Whatever was in that cake has turned me ravenous; my need for him is now a living thing inside me, clawing its way out.
I tilt my head, and my mouth finds the side of his neck. His skin is salty, damp with sweat, and I kiss a slow stripe up to his ear before nibbling his earlobe. He groans, and his grip on me tightens. “You’re a fucking tease,” he growls.
I pull back, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Stop talking and fuck me in the bathroom.”
His entire body goes still. For a second, I think I’ve pushed too far, but then his fingers clamp down on my jaw, forcing my head back so he can stare me down, his blue-grey eyes meeting mine. “Are you sure you can handle that, detka?” he murmurs, his thumb dragging over my bottom lip. “Because I’m not going to be gentle.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I don’t want gentle; I want him to ruin me. “Try me,” I challenge. I grab his hand and drag him through the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest.
The music pulses around us and changes to another Prodigy song, the bass vibrating through the soles of my feet, up my legs, settling deep in my bones.
The hallway to the bathrooms is dimly lit, and the air is thick with the scent of bleach. My cock is painfully hard, already leaking pre-cum into my boxers. I can feel Ari’s eyes on me, burning into my back as I push open the door to the men’s room.
The space is grimy, the tiles are cracked, and the stalls barely offer any privacy. A few guys are pissing at the urinals, their eyes glazed over, lost in their own highs.
I don’t care. I don’t fucking care if they watch. I need Ari inside me.
I shove open the door to the last stall. The space is tight, the walls are covered in graffiti, and the floor is sticky under my shoes. I turn to face Ari, my back pressing against the cold metal of the stall door. His eyes are dark, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He looks feral, like a man on the edge of losing control.
“Get on your knees,” he orders. I drop to the filthy floor without hesitation. My hands grip his jeans, pulling at the belt. He smirks down at me, his fingers tangling in my hair, yanking my head back so I’m forced to look up at him. “Such a good boy for me,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. I open my mouth, sucking his thumb inside, swirling my tongue around it, making him groan.
I finally get his belt undone, shoving his jeans down his thighs along with his boxers. His thick and veiny cock springs free. I lean in, my breath ghosting over the tip, and he shudders. “Fuck, just like that,” he growls as I lick a slow stripe up the underside of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the crown, then lap up the salty pre-cum before taking him into my mouth. He hits the back of my throat, making me gag, the tears pricking at my eyes. I don’t stop. I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, my hands gripping his thighs for balance.
It is handy to keep a spare title for a quiet moment.
Choose one fromLokepuband come back to it later.
“That’s it, choke on it,” he pants, his hips rolling forward, fucking my mouth in shallow thrusts. I moan around him, the vibration making him groan louder. “Fuck, you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock, detka, but you didn’t bring me in here to suck me off.” He yanks my head back, his cock popping free from my mouth with a wet sound.
He hauls me to my feet, spinning me around and pressing my chest against the stall wall. His hands are everywhere — pulling my jacket off, then my shirt, hisnails digging into my sides, then his teeth sinking into the side of my neck. I whimper, my cock leaking, my hole aching. “Please,” I beg, my voice breaking. “Please, Ari, I need you.”
His fingers find the button of my jeans, popping it open with a sharp tug. The zipper rasps down, and then his hands are shoving my jeans and boxers down my thighs, pulling them off, exposing every inch of me. Then I hear the snap of the lube bottle.
He kicks my legs apart, then his fingers are there, pressing against my hole. I push back desperately against them. “So fucking needy for me,” he growls, his fingers sliding inside me with ease. I moan loudly, my cock twitching, the pre-cum dripping onto the floor. “That’s it, let everyone hear how good I make you take it?”
“Fuck— please—” I beg, my voice breaking, my body trembling with the need to feel him inside me. He pulls his fingers out abruptly, leaving me empty, making me whine. But then his jacket and shirt hit the floor next to me. His hands are on my waist, turning and lifting me like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his hips on instinct, my back pressing against the wall as he lines himself up. I can feel the thick, blunt head of his cock pressing against me, the stretch already promising to be brutal.
“You want it rough?” he growls, his forehead pressing against mine. “You want me to fuck you like I own you?”
“Yes,” I hiss, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Fucking ruin me.” He doesn’t warn me. Hedoesn’t go slow. He slams into me in one brutal thrust, his cock spearing me open. The burn steals my breath. My vision blacks out as my body struggles to take him. He’s huge, thicker than his fingers, stretching me open, and the way he groans as he bottoms out — fuck, I love it.
“So fucking tight,” he grunts, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate circle, grinding his cock deeper.
I can’t even form words. All I can do is cling to him, my fingers digging into his neck and his back as he starts to move. His thrusts are punishing, each snap of his hips driving me higher up the wall. The wet sound of his balls slapping against me fills the stall, mixed with our ragged breathing, grunts, and the distant thump of the bass.
I brace a foot against the opposite wall, holding myself up a little. Ari is panting, his lips crashing against mine in a bruising kiss. I can only moan into it, my cock trapped between us, leaking pre-cum with every thrust. His hand finds my throat, his fingers tightening just enough to make my pulse roar in my ears. The pressure and the way he’s thrusting into me — fuck, I’ve never been so hard in my life.
The pleasure is too much — the burn of him inside me, the way his cock drags over my prostate with every snap of his hips. My balls draw up tight, my orgasm coiling low in my gut. “Gonna—fuck, Ari—” My voice breaks, my body tensing as the first wave of my release crashes over me. Cum sprays between us, thick ropes painting his abs and his chest. The sight of it — the way his eyes darken ashe watches me come undone — it pushes him over the edge.
With a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and floods me. His cum is hot, so fucking hot, filling me up as his cock pulses inside me. I can feel every throb, every jet of his release painting my insides, and the filthy, possessive way he growls “mine” as he empties himself inside me sends another weak pulse of cum dripping from my spent cock.
For a minute, we stay like that — him pinning me to the wall, his cock still buried deep, both of us breathing like we’ve been drowned and brought back to life.
