My pulse increases with every step towards our assigned room, anticipation of what’s to come nearly making me dizzy with excitement. I almost slip on my way up the stairs and Thane releases a rough noise—concerned for my safety—before plastering himself to my back.
The rain hasn’t let up, so we’re sharing a large umbrella, barely escaping the downpour. His uneven breathing—an indication that he’s just as affected as me—stirs the hair at my crown and he wraps an inked arm possessively around my waist when we bypass a young man who licks his chops and eyes me like I’m fresh meat.
Behind me, I can practically hear Thane’s teeth gnashing. Without a doubt, he’s glaring at the man and silently telling him, ‘Fuck off, this one is mine.’
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the possessive display. In my head, Thane has been mine for three years. To finally see my desire reciprocated in this manner makes me beyond giddy.
I splay a hand over his in a calming gesture and adjust the hem of my mini-dress to ward off anymore unwelcomed stares, uselessly trying to drag it lower to cover my upper-thighs. But it doesn’t matter. Regardless, I still feel naked and…a hint naughty. Like this is a fantasy involving a secret rendez-vous. A tryst with an older man for one night.
Not to mention, I’m unravelling at the lingering phantom touch of Thane’s mouth on my nipples, his hand on my ass, and his fingers on my pussy.
I can barely believe that this is about to happen: that we’re about to go all the way.
Before I know it, we reach room 201.
Thane’s tattooed hand rises up to slot the key into the door and the sound of it twisting open is amplified over the rain, resonating in the empty hallway like an omen.
He shoves open the door and guides me inside with an impatient hand on the small of my back, lacking any sort of finesse.
I have less than ten seconds to take inventory of the room—a queen bed that’s seen better days, peeling and faded wallpaper, two end tables with lamps, a dresser in front of a bed, and an opening for a bathroom next to it—before Thane steps inside, throws aside the wet umbrella, slams the door closed, and grabs hold of my waist.
He spins me around, pushes me against the door, and covers my body, trapping me with his strong, muscular frame. A gasp whooshes out of me and my fists slap against the surface for purchase.
The manhandling and the fierce urgency, coupled with that animalistic way he buries his face in my neck to plant incessant hungry kisses has my pussy clenching. He rubs his bulge against my ass and I rock back against him, silently telling him what I want. “Do I need to wear a rubber with you, Marlow?”
“N-No,” I gasp when he gently bites near my collarbone. “I went on the shot.”
He stills and then his chest bows with a deep inhale. “After the solarium?”
My cheeks pinken and I’m grateful that we didn’t turn on the lights yet so he doesn’t see my embarrassment.
When I don’t answer fast enough, Thane squeezes his hand around my throat. “Marlow.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, okay? It was after the solarium.”
He grounds against me hard enough that I slide up, my tippy-toes barely grazing the floor and my warm face pressed against the door, his body keeping me pinned in place. One of Thane’s hands leave my waist to dive below the skirt of my dress, cupping my naked pussy in a manner that screamsthis-is-mine. “You knew.” His voice is harsh. “You knew it was only a matter of time before I got between your legs, huh?”
He clenches for emphasis and I whine, nodding my head. “B-But let’s pretend I’m not on anything, okay? Play this game with me. Please.”
A drop of darkness enters the sexual energy gyrating in the room as Thane registers what I’m asking for.
Then a sharp slap is delivered straight to my pussy.
I jolt and moan.
With the hand holding my neck, Thane angles my face enough to gaze into my eyes. His green depths are smoky with desire. “The first time I saw you on that field with your high ponytail, sorority pledge smile, and pompoms, I thought you were a good girl, Marlow.” He kisses me and growls, “Not a bad girl who enters a dingy motel with a man ten years her senior, wearing no panties, her pussy all swollen and slick, needing a hard fuck and a breeding kink to satisfy her appetite. I got you pegged all wrong, didn’t I, little cheerleader?”
My blood heats at his words and I pant, “I’m only bad for you, Coach Thane.”
“Good.” He slaps my pussy again. “That’s the only way I want you, baby.” Then in one fell swoop, he tugs my dress off and throws it to the side. It lands on the old dresser. My naked skin is exposed to the sensitive cool air in the room and I shiver, a tear of arousal dripping down my thigh. “Now show me just how bad you can get, Marlow.”
Thane grabs me and throws me onto the bed. My body bounces as I land in the middle. He advances towards me while slinking off his black t-shirt and throwing it on the floor.
I lean back on my elbows and part my thighs. His nostrils flare at the sight of my glossy pussy. I’m in nothing but my heels and birthday suit, my blond waves mussed and trailing behind me. He stares at me like I’m the sex kitten of his dreams—like the way a man stares at the centerfold in a porn-magazine he jerks off to.
And I love being the epicenter of his passion.
“Touch yourself,” he demands, coming to stand between my spread legs. His hands dive to his belt, undoing it deftly and pushing down his pants and boxer briefs in one go. And good God, those nine-inches of his spring free and I drool. “Show me what you did under my roof all week long.”
