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What if she fell and hit her head? Or something happened to her? What if she got into a fight with Aaron? The last one is unlikely since Aaron hasn’t been home much lately.
She could have also fallen asleep. That is the more logical explanation.
Not seeming to give a shit about any of that, I press the button for the penthouse and swipe my access card—an emergency key that I use almost daily, since Aaron’s house operates under an open-door policy for Tristan and me.
I’ll say a quick hi and make the excuse that I wanted to have the conversation about our boundaries in person. It’s better to hash this stuff out face to face rather than over text where tone and meaning can easily be misconstrued. Then I’ll say good night and be on my merry way.
My one nipple piercing catches the light in the elevator, the glint stealing my attention to my naked chest.
Should have put on a shirt, dumbass.
The elevator doors glide open, unveiling a brightly illuminated foyer. Despite all the lights being on, the place is too quiet. As I step into the empty foyer, I move cautiously, glancing around to see if anyone is here.
“Aaron? Zo?”
Nothing.
The kitchen and living room are all lit up. Chandeliers, lamps, spotlights…all turned on. Aaron never leaves the lights on when he’s not here. He’s anal retentive about conserving energy.
I slip my hands into my pockets, making my way toward Zoe’s room. The unnerving silence and the blaze of lights increase my concern. Did something happen to her? Perhaps she stepped out momentarily. But where could she have gone at this hour? Another ice cream run?
Her door is slightly ajar, and no lights appear to be on inside her room, a stark contrast to the rest of the house. Poking my head inside, I notice a soft, golden hue coming from the bathroom.
Opening my mouth to call out to her, I freeze dead in my tracks, hearing soft whimpers trickling in from the crack in the door.
Goosebumps break out all over my body, and my cock jerks, hearing the sweet sounds of her soft moans and quick breaths. I fantasize about her noises every time I stroke my cock or whenever I’m with other women. Imagining Zoe and pretending like it’s her I’m fucking is the only way I can get off. That’s how it’s been for the last six long years.
I scan the room, anxiously expecting to find a pair of men’s shoes or oversized clothes that don’t belong to Zoe, but there’s nothing of the sort scattered around here.
She’s alone and apparently not angry at all.
Fuck, I shouldn’t be here. I’m invading her privacy once again.
“Mmm…yes, that’s it,” Zoe groans softly, her voice quiet yet urgent in a desperate way.
My cock hardens, and memories of her tied to the bed at the mansion flood me. Her eyes blindfolded and her nipples peaked as my tongue traced down her stomach. I still remember the way she tastes as if it were yesterday.
I should leave, give her this moment to herself. It’s not mine to take, but I can’t bring myself to turn around. Instead, I step deeper inside the room, trying to give myself enough access to see her while keeping my body hidden in darkness.
I catch a glimpse of Zoe’s wet hair draped over the side of the standalone tub. Her eyes are closed and her legs are wide apart, knees resting on each side of the tub. Her head is tilted back, and her lips are slightly parted as she plays, bringing herself closer to the edge of ecstasy.
Fuck, this is so insanely sexy. I grip my angry erection over my sweats, taking in a calculated breath and forcing myself to stand still. All I want to do in this moment is rush over to her, pull her out of the tub, and lean her against the counter as I take my cock out and bury myself inside her. Feel her walls grip me tightly as she presses her soaked breasts against my bare chest. Whimpering for me to move faster, deeper, as her fingers grip my hair tightly.
Fucking Christ, I can’t do this right now.
I would do anything to switch spots with her fingers, to feel her soft flesh and taste her on my tongue again.
There is no way either one of us is going to be talking anytime soon. Not with her fucking herself and my raging boner. I need to get the hell out of here before I do something I’ll regret.
As I turn, her whimpers turn into moans.
She’s close.
Turning to look over my shoulder, I watch as she bites down on her lip, shoulders bunching up slightly as her arm begins to splash quicker in the water, creating a small, foamy current of pleasure.
She’s magnificent.
“Oh, fuck…yes…harder, Runi,” she calls out right before she falls apart.
