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I flex my fingers in her hair, bringing her close, and she leans in and bites my lip, drawing out a laugh from deep within me, even as I reach down to trace her. She’s wet for me, and the sense of accomplishment I feel is more powerful than when Myles told me I’d made partner. There was a hollowness to that moment, a sense of disappointment because it didn’t feel the way I’d thought it would, and this one holds only anticipation. I circle her clit with my finger, then curl it up and into the best place I’ve ever visited.
The little gusty sound that escapes her is mine—I helped her create it, and by hell, I’m going to keep it. I swallow it through our kiss and then kiss my way down her neck to the tops of her tits, my finger and palm working her. I’m going to make her come in this bathroom. I’m going to remind her how good it is between us, so—
I haven’t gotten that far yet, but I’ve decided I’m not willing to stuff this thing with Ruthie down with everything else I’ve buried.
“However good you are with your hand,” she says, her breath coming in pants as she grips my wrist, stopping my movements, “it’s not enough. I’m going to need that dick again.”
She’s speaking in an undertone, but it’s possible we could still be heard through the door. I’m so far gone for her I don’t care. I don’t even remember why I should.
“As much as I would like to take you up on that,” I say, my voice strained, “we don’t have a condom.” I rub my finger along a spot that’s sensitive for her, and am rewarded by her clenching around me. My dick is in torment, but it’s worth it. Anything would be worth touching her again.
“You don’t have a condom,” she says, reaching into her bra and pulling one out. I’m so baffled and turned on, I’ll probably die on the spot, but I’ll die happy.
“You were planning this,” I comment. I can imagine her getting ready, pausing over her drawer before tucking one of them into her bra. It’s sexy as hell, and I get even harder as the scenario runs through my mind.
“I like to account for any number of possibilities,” she says, her voice a mimicry of mine.
“I should have, but I guess I don’t need to so long as I have you.”
“What you’re saying is that you’re lucky,” she says, giving me the condom wrapper and then immediately getting to work unfastening my belt.
“Right now I feel like I should go out and buy lottery tickets.”
Looking up at me with a satisfied smile, she opens my pants and then pushes them down.
“I thought you couldn’t have sex with a man who’s wearing socks?” I say.
“I’ll make an exception just this once, because I don’t want your bare feet on this floor.”
“Your exception is noted and appreciated,” I say, tearing the condom wrapper just as her hand wraps around me—pleasure settling in my lower back and promising I’m not going to last long. This time. I’m going to have another. I need it. Now that I’ve shattered Rule Number One, why not dance on the broken glass?
I get the condom on quickly and silently offer up appreciation to whoever designed the slinky red dress, because in addition to its other attributes, the fabric is stretchy. Lifting Ruthie up by the waist, I press her back into the wall by the door, and she wraps her legs around me without being asked, the spiky heels digging into me in a way I don’t dislike.
Staring up at me, pupils dilated, she tells me, “Give it to me, Shane. I want it.”
“Say the words,” I say, blood pounding in my ears. “Tell me you want my cock.”
“I want your cock,” she replies, her lips twitching with a smile, “now stop being an insufferable bastard and give it to me.”
I’m holding her up to the wall, and I wouldn’t risk letting her fall for anything, so I ask, “Line me up so I can fuck you.”
The sight of her reaching down to do it, her hand moving my cock so it’s in the right position, is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen—or will ever see.
I slide in, slowly at first, giving her time to adjust, but she’s so wet, so ready for me, that my body begs for more. To go back to the place it left last week and has been missing every second since. The breath leaves my lungs as I bottom out—and Ruthie pushes against me as if she still wants more. As if there’s no end to how much she wants me, and I’m glad for it, because I want her that much too. “You feel so good, Ruthie.”
“If you tell me I’m a good girl…I’m going to throttle you,” she says, making me laugh even as I pull out and thrust back in, her back thumping against the wall.
“You assume I don’t like it when you throttle me,” I say. “You assume wrong, good girl.”
Eyes sparkling, she grabs the end of my tie and drags my head to her, kissing me, her hips grinding against me as I push her into the wall with another thrust. We’re all over each other, her hands in my hair, her shoes digging into me as she grips me with her legs, our mouths battling to find an angle that will bring us closer. It doesn’t take long before I feel her tightening and clenching around me, and my cock pulses with the need to come. I pull my mouth from hers for just an instant, and she bites my bottom lip as if to tell me there’ll be a price for leaving, even for an instant.
“I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Don’t,” she insists, her voice urgent, and I know she’s on the edge too. That’s what takes me the rest of the way there—that and another thrust against the wall with her legs wrapped around me, that pretty dress ruched up for me, her hair a beautiful mess against the white walls.
She lets out a single soft cry in my ear as I pulse into her, her body wrapped around me.
“You’re incredible,” I say into her ear as soon as I’m capable of saying anything.
