“I can fix that,” I said. Without waiting for her response, I slid my finger out of her. She let out a small moan of protest. It turned into a surprised squeal when I hooked that hand into the other side of the harness and yanked her second leg up. I dove forward again, letting my tongue plunge into her.
I kept most of her weight balanced between my arms and the door, but I let just enough of it come down against my face to feel her every twitching reaction.
“Please, please,” she panted.
I groaned, reveling in her desperate need.
“Please, Noah, I need you to…” Her breath hitched, and she pulled at my hair just enough to force me to look up, not enough to make me stop. Her dark, glassy eyes found mine. “Please,” she whispered.
“Fuck, you’re pretty when you beg.”
“I’m not begging. I’m polite when I ask for what I want,” she protested weakly, trying to tilt her hips in a clear sign that she wanted me to keep touching her.
“Ask me then, princess.” I grinned and bit the inside of her thigh, taking way too much pleasure from her responding squeal.
“Would you be so kind as to let me come already?” she huffed, cheeks beautifully reddened from anger or lust– and I didn’t care which one. “Please.”
“Gladly,” I said just before sucking her clit in between my teeth. She writhed in my grip, trying to leverage her weight against me.
Our time had to be up any second now. That orange bulb would switch off, and we’d have to get out of the door within seconds.
I threw one of her legs over my shoulder. Esra instinctively hooked her knee into place and used it to lock me tight against her. My mouth still playing with her clit, I spread her pussy and delved two fingers into her.
“Noah!”
Esra came for me. Her pussy squeezed around my fingers. My name mixed with wordless moans on her lips as I thrust into her and lapped up each drop of her sweet wetness.
When the tremors ebbed, I rose to my feet, careful to lower both her legs to the ground slowly. I kept my hands wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, noting that her nails were still digging into my wrist.
She blinked up at me, breathing hard, face flushed, and lips still swollen from kissing. Climaxing looked damngood on her. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to make her taste just how wet she’d gotten for me. But I watched her blink, watched the focus return to her eyes, the haze of the moment giving way to confusion.
At least her lipstick wasn’t smudged, or there would have been no mistaking what we’d just done in here.
“I think I just found my new favorite way of having fun,” I told her, just as the orange lamp flickered out. I pulled the bandana back over my face, fixed my pants to hide how fucking hard she’d gotten me, and switched my mic pack back on. “Esra’s mic is dead. We’re coming out now.”
“Steer clear of the kitchen,” Austin warned from the sofa, not looking up from his phone when I walked in the door that night.
“Why?”
“Because you hate mess.”
“Who made a mess in the kitchen?”
On cue, metal clattered to the floor. It sounded like pans and pots crashing together, and Esra let out a loud curse. That answered my question.
Austin looked up then, not toward the kitchen, but at me. Twelve hours ago, that sound would have sent me sprinting to the kitchen. I didn’t like mess, and I didn’t like it when peoplemademesses. It wasn’t that hard to keep things tidy. But twelve hours ago, I’d had no clue what Esra tasted like when she fell apart on my tongue– and I wasn’t sure how she’d react to seeing me right now, considering we’d gone our separate ways after the show. I was, however,sure that I didn’t want Austin to witness that encounter, even remotely.
I flexed my fists and forced my feet to carry me past the door to the kitchen and toward the stairs. “Don’t let her burn the house down.”
“No promises,” Austin replied with a dry chuckle.
Upstairs, I hit the shower and turned up the volume on the old bathroom radio, to muffle the sounds from both outside and inside the bathroom. I finally had a few minutes to myself. An endless loop of Esra’s sighs and moans had been echoing through my head all day. While I’d managed to dispel all the intrusive scenarios of anyone else touching her, I was now plagued by the very real memory of her reactions to my own touch. I had to get her out of my system for good.
Fisting my cock, I let my noise be drowned by the shower stream and the music.
“Fuck,” I moaned, mentally replaying images of Esra’s flushed face and her full lips as she begged for my touch.
I didn’t register the lights flicking off at first, but then the radio in the corner died with a whiny squeak, plunging me into silent darkness. Then the yelling started.
