“Phantom,” I gasped. “Please. I need to cum…”
“I know. I feel it. God, you’re so tight.” But he prolonged my pleasure and thrust inside me again and again, even as my legs trembled, before he finally gave me the command I was desperate for: “Give, Ophelia.”
I exploded with pleasure. I cried out, legs buckling. My body clenched, pulsing tightly around him. He moaned like I was his prize, his reward at the end of a rough day—no, at the end of a roughexistence. He gave the smallest, loveliest shiver, and flooded me with his heat. He pumped inside of me until he’dgiven me everything, every drop, and I whimpered, my body clutching him, greedy for it.
He pulled out of me suddenly. I gasped at the emptiness, but then he flipped me around. My back hit the tiled wall and his mouth claimed mine. I sunk into him; I belonged to him. He cradled me, marked me with his kisses, with the press of his body, and I melted like candlewax in his hands.
“God, Ophelia.” His forehead rested against mine, his breath beating like butterfly wings against my cheek. “You bring me back to life. How do you do that?”
The wonderment in his voice fluttered through me. I felt so deliciously precious in his arms, for a minute, I couldn’t speak. “Kiss me again. Please, Sir.” And he did.
We kissed until the water went cold.
We had aftercare spread out on my couch. We lounged across from each other, legs entwined. Phantom in nothing but briefs, me in nothing but panties and a light robe. My feet rested in Phantom’s lap and he rubbed them, bursting little knots trapped in the arches.
“Tell me again how a pen doesthat.” I motioned to his chest. After the shower, he finally allowed me to disinfect the spot and slap a Band-Aid on it.
“Fountain pen,” Phantom explained.
“Are you sure it wasn’t the ghost of Shakespeare, claiming retribution?”
“You tell me, Ophelia.”
That made us both grin.
“I have an IUD,” I blurted out. “By the way. Just in case you were worried about it.”
“I wasn’t. I know. It was in your chart.”
“Sothat’show you knew where I lived.”
His face actually colored. Caught red-handed.
I smirked. “Doctor…are you medically stalking me?”
“You’re also allergic to oysters.” His thumb pressed in, spreading my toes. “You broke your arm when you were nine. And you have naturally high sodium levels, which makes you prone to fainting spells if you don’t drink enough water.” He frowned. “You need to be better about hydrating, Ophelia.”
A glass of water sat on the table beside me. I tilted my head at it. “Will you help, Sir?”
Phantom picked up on my cues. He put my foot down and shifted forward on the couch, climbing on top of me. He curled a finger against my jaw. “Open.”
I opened my mouth for him. He lifted the glass of water, but tilted it to his own lips, taking in a mouthful. Then he bowed over and fed me from his mouth, spilling water into mine. It should not have been as erotic as it was and I swallowed, sucking, our tongues dancing together.
It hit me, all at once:Phantom is in my home. Wecanexist outside the club. This felt new. Almost…forbidden.
We were breaking the rules, but I couldn’t stop. I wanted him to fuck me on my couch. In the kitchen. In my bed. I wanted every room to have a memory of him inside of me. I could feel him starting to swell again against my hip, and I pushed my body against his desperately, and—fuck—we weren’t going to get any sleep?—
He broke our kiss with a quick breath. “God,” he said, “kissing you is addictive.”
I bit my lip. “Are we breaking the rules? You know…Phantom and Ophelia need to stay at the club.”
“New rule,” he said. “This stays at the club…exceptin cases of an emergency.”
“What was the emergency?”
His eyebrows knitted. “I was wounded.”
I tickled my fingers down his chest. “I suppose you were.”
