Gunnar’s hand slides up my shoulder and he grabs the back of my neck, dragging me forward to shove his dick into my mouth. I run my hands up his thighs until I can wrap one around his base and slide the other into his pants to cup his balls. He’s hot as fire, and the zipper of his pants pinches the back of my hand as he spreads his legs a little more to accommodate me, but I don’t care.
A toilet flushes in the background, but I don’t let it stop me from taking him deep while I work my hand up and down his length. I pull back, only keeping his velvety tip in my mouth so I can use my saliva as lube as I work him over.
Gunnar fists my long hair roughly while he trails the fingers of his other hand reverently along my jaw. The sound of a metal lock disengaging snicks sharply in the otherwise quiet room. I turn my head slightly and slit my eyes to see a woman exiting one of the stalls. Her gaze is already glued to Gunnar’s back. We didn’t surprise her. I wonder how long she stayed in the little cubical before deciding to finally come out.
Keeping my hands moving, I pull my mouth off Gunnar with a pop. He growls and pushes himself against me again, tightening his grip on my hair. I don’t care that she knows I’m sucking his cock, but the thought of her seeing his thick shaft makes me see red.
“Out!” I demand, then swallow Gunnar so deep that even if she were to look back all she would see would be my mouth stretched around him. She leaves without even washing her hands—nasty—only peeking over her shoulder right before the door closes.
Gunnar doesn’t even seem to notice the entire interaction. I look up at him again. His mouth is slightly slack, and I can see his inhuman teeth. I rise up higher on my knees and squeeze his balls a little tighter while increasing how hard I’m sucking. He pants and jerks his hips forward, and his dick hits the back of my throat. The muscles there constrict on reflex, so I breathe through my nose, but my breaths are short from the way he starts fucking my face.
If I could smile, I would, but I’m too busy making sure he’s satisfied while I try to breathe in enough air to keep going. I remove the barrier of my hand on his base, and he really loses it then. I don’t even have to suck anymore. My jaw is open as far as it can go, saliva drips down my chin, and Gunnar is in complete control of my next breath. There is nothing pretty about this. It’s raw and dirty, but oh so fucking hot. I can feel how swollen my clit is, and every time I move from left to right, the seam of my jeans gives me delicious friction.
Within moments, he’s coming, with his hips shoved forward. I can feel the thick vein along his length pumping against my tongue as he comes down the back of my throat. I don’t even try to breathe. I know if I do, I’m going to end up with come dripping out of my nose, and that’s too messy, even for me.
Thankfully, he pulls back quickly, and I gulp in gasps of air while swallowing. I wipe my chin with the back of my hand and extricate my other from his pants. His zipper has done a little damage. I’ve got a few angry scratches and a raw spot that’s oozing a little blood.
Before I even have a chance to catch my breath, Gunnar slides his hands under my arms and lifts me off the floor. He takes the two steps to the bench and sits down with me straddling his lap. I lean my body close to his, but he stops me by slipping his hand between us and cupping my pussy, his palm putting pressure right over my clit.
Our foreheads connect and I look down. “If I knew I could get you out of here without anyone seeing, I would slice” —he runs his thumb up the center seam of my pants to the bottom of the zipper— “these open and fuck you.”
Gunnar can do wonderfully horrible things with a knife. Not only did I see his skills that night at Vanessa’s, I’ve watched him practice with them often enough at home. The thought of him with a razor-sharp blade so close to my skin, trusting he would never hurt me, has me damn near pleading for him to do it. So what if I walk out with crotchless jeans? I’m kind of okay with that. I wrap one arm around his neck and place my lips near his ear. “I wouldn’t stop you.”
He shakes his head. “You’re burning up.” He skims his hand up and pulls my button to the side, opening my jeans, before dragging the short zipper down. I hold my breath when his fingers touch my skin. I scoot my body closer to his. Gunnar looks over my shoulder. “Let me see if I can lock the door.” He pushes me off him, and I’m left standing on wobbly legs.
“You didn’t care about a lock a few minutes ago,” I challenge.
“Yeah, well, you weren’t naked then. Fuck!”
“No lock?”
“Who the hell doesn’t put a lock on a bathroom door?” He turns around with a scowl. I saunter over, pushing my pants down my hips as I go. “What are you doing?” His eyes are locked on my exposed skin.
“I’m sure we can find a way to make sure that door stays closed, Kitten.”
He bites his bottom lip, indecision warring on his face. “I could hold it closed,” he offers. I push my jeans down until I encounter my boots. I’m not taking them off, I refuse to be barefoot in what’s essentially a public bathroom. I must look pretty silly shuffling the rest of the way over with my pants around my ankles, but Gunnar watches me like I’m Aphro-fucking-dite.
“No one has tried to come in yet,” I cajole, spinning so my ass is before him. I bend over and press it right up against him.
“Dami,” he growls, but he grabs my hips and pulls me even tighter against his body. I go up on my toes—as much as I can in the boots—feeling the rough fabric of his pants against the back of my thighs. Reaching between our bodies, he slides his fingers up and down my pussy. I push into his touch, wanting him inside me. I don’t even care if it’s just his fingers at this point.
I hear and feel a thud against the door when Gunnar jerks a little, followed by a feminine, “Ooh.”
“Fuck off!” Gunnar barks loudly. His scarred, callused hand slides up my back, and he wraps his long fingers over my shoulder before tugging me up. “Elbows back,” he whispers near my ear. I do as I’m told, and he tucks his arm between my inner elbow and back, reaching across until he can grab my other arm near my bicep. My spine arches in the slightly uncomfortable hold.
That’s when I feel Gunnar lining himself up to slide inside me. I wiggle a bit, eager for his cock. His fingers pinch my arm harder. “Be still.”
With one quick thrust of his hips, he’s inside me. My inner muscles quiver, and I let out a low groan. With my pants around my ankles and him holding my arms, I feel restrained. I relax he muscles in my arms and legs, fully giving myself over to Gunnar.
This ability to let myself go, to trust him and the others, is still rather new to me, but welcome all the same. The fact that he’s rough and takes what he wants makes it even hotter. The toes of my boots barely touch the ground after he slams his hips against my ass a few times. He spins quickly, and the side of my face ends up against the center of the door. Good thing I don’t need to worry about germs.
The new position gives his hips and legs more movement, so I end up cradled in the curve of his body, relieving some of the pressure on my shoulders.
Our combined breathing is loud as it echoes off the tile walls. Before long, I can feel my orgasm building. It starts low in my stomach and makes me feel like I can’t catch my breath, or like I need to hold my breath, I can’t decide. Gunnar leans forward and licks the side of my face from just under my jaw to my cheek. That primal act of lust pushes me over the edge, and I come hard, a keening noise escaping my throat.
“Oh, fuck.” Gunnar’s grip on my arms loosens, and they fall to my sides. I’m too tired to even push myself away from the door. “S-Sorry, sweetheart,” he rasps against the back of my head when he stops sliding in and out of me after riding us both through our orgasms.
Eventually, he lowers me so my boots touch the ground. There’s a good possibility the door is the only thing holding me up.
