I slide one hand up to her throat, my fingers resting firm but not tight around her neck. It’s restraint, keeping her where I want her, but the pressure isn’t painful—just enough. And the moment she realizes, her head tips back slightly, eyes fluttering, and that sound….
A guttural, raw cry tears through her chest, rocketing straight into mine. God, it’s filthy, desperate, and I can feel it as it runs down my body, making my cock throb. I swear the sound alone could make me spill every ounce of myself inside her.
I keep moving, my hand firm around her neck, guiding her, keeping her flush against the door. Her moans get louder, more ragged, her body writhing as her hips jerk against mine.
She shudders beneath me, tied and squirming. Her moans fill the room, echoing off the walls, composing the most beautiful symphony of heat and surrender.
“Fuck, Addie,” I groan, collapsing inside her. “Holy fuck.”
I swear I’ve never felt anything so powerful in my life.
I untie the knot at her wrists carefully, even though a small, selfish part of me wants to keep her bound here, all mine for just a little longer. The tie slips from her wrists, and before I can grip it, she snatches it from my hand.
“I’ll be keeping this, Captain,” she says, cheeks flushed.
I grin, rolling my sleeves back down, still breathless. “It’s all yours.”
I’m all yours too.
39
caught out
NFWMB BY HOZIER
I smooth my dress down as I step into the elevator, heart still pounding from everything that just happened in Oliver’s hotel room. I use the blurred reflection in the wall to fix my hair, check my makeup, and try to make myself a little less just-fucked.
Is it obvious that Rockford FC’s captain just tied me to a door and fucked me senseless?
We agreed I’d head downstairs first, give it a few minutes, and then he’d casually follow. Professional. Nothing to see here.
The elevator doors ding open, and I step out into the lobby, forcing my expression into something neutral. I’m halfway across the polished marble floor when I hear a voice behind me.
“Addison.”
Fuck.
A small, helpless groan slips out before I can stop it, becauseof courseit’s Matt.
I turn around slowly, trying not to raise suspicion. He’s alone—no camera crew, no intern following him around like he’s some kind of god.
“Hi,”I say tightly, already calculating my emergency exits and how quickly I can get away without making a scene.
“You look…” he gestures vaguely, his eyes dragging over me slowly in a way that makes my skin crawl, “... incredible tonight.”
I force a polite smile. “Thank you. Excuse me, I—”
He steps closer to me, cutting me off. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, smiling like he thinks himself charming.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I mutter, angling my body to sidestep him.
He moves again, boxing me in.
“Do you ever think about it?” he asks, voice low. “The good times we had?”
I stiffen as my eyes dart around, looking for someone—anyone—to step into the lobby. But there’s no one. It’s just me and him and the weight of everything I wish I could forget.
“We were really great together, Addison,” he says, leaning in close enough that I can smell the whiskey on his breath. “You just… I don’t think you remember it right.”
