I don’t want her to enjoy this.
I want to take and take and not give anything in return.
But I need her to want to come back tome, so I give her exactly what she’s demanding: I fuck her hard, fast, the bed banging against the wall with each thrust. Let everyone in the house know what’s happening.
Pandora’s cries get louder, more desperate. I feel her clenching and unclenching, but my own orgasm is barreling closer, and I need her to come first. I force her hand away and start playing with her clit myself, rubbing it clumsily while I continue to thrust.
The angle is awkward, but she moans and clutches my back. Her nails dig in, and if I’d taken my shirt off, I’m sure I’d be covered in scratches.
“Yes, like that, do it, do it, Asch, Asch, please!”
She’s so close, and all it takes is another few desperate thrusts before she’s crying out, her entire body going tense as she shudders.
She’s not faking it.
I have a feeling Pandora never would. She’s not the type to fake pleasure; she’s the type to insist on getting hers at any cost.
I move my hand, grabbing her hips and gripping them tightly as I slam into her over and over until I’m the one crying out. I curse, my hips stuttering as I fill her with my cum, and I only stop when the last vestiges of my climax are washing over me.
My breaths are still heavy as I look down at her. She smiles and brings her fingers up to my lip. I open my mouth for her and lick the blood from those fingers.
Pandora shudders and rocks her hips against mine, as if she hadn’t come seconds ago, as if we aren’t both already spent.
“I knew you were wild,” Pandora says as she trails her spit-stained fingers along my jaw. “Just pretending to be all buttoned up and proper. I get what Blaze sees in you now.”
Except Blaze has never seen this side of me.
I don’t think I want him to.
There’s darkness inside of him; there has to be, given what he’s grown up with, what he’s grown up to become. But I have always been separate from that—the constant, the offset. I do what he tells me, but I don’t enjoy it. Not like he does.
Do I?
I lower myself down to my elbows, but I’m still inside her. I don’t know why I'm reluctant to pull out.
Pandora kisses me softly.
I still taste blood, but it’s lighter now.
Then the door creaks.
I curse and pull away from Pandora. I try to fumble for my pants, but it’s too late.
Blaze is standing in the doorway, glaring at us. “Really, Pandora? In my bed?”
Pandora waves lazily at him. “Yeah. It was hotter that way.”
There’s blood everywhere.
I grab my pants and hurriedly pull them on, ducking my head. I don’t want Blaze to see blood all over my face, even though it’s all over Pandora’s.
“Get out,” Blaze growls.
For a split second, I think he’s talking about me.
I freeze, but my breaths are still coming fast, my heart racing in my chest.
How badly did I fuck up this time?
