Page 31 of Drilled

“Stubborn,” I murmured, dragging him down to press my mouth to his again. I’d been right. Neither one of us wanted to lose as we struggled to gain the upper hand but when he hoisted me up again, lining my core to his, we both gasped. He was so hard I could feel him through both layers of clothing, and as though trying to strike a point, he rolled his hips against mine once.

A ripple of pleasure washed over me, radiating from that point of contact. Maybe it was juvenile, dry humping like two teenagers. But the heat of it, the friction, the way I could feel his body straining with desperation for more killed any reservations I may have had.

Our competition melted into something fluid as we moved together, his hand wrapped in my hair, mine grabbing the back of his neck.

“That all you got, Miller?” I panted, deliberately trying to antagonize him. His hips stuttered, then thrust up harder. My hand squeezed the back of his neck. “Child’s play?”

“Oh yeah?” Dax asked breathlessly as he let me down. I was about to ask him what he was doing when he slipped three fingers down the front of my work pants and pulled me forward. “Remember to be quiet.”

I squealed as he worked open the button, his cold fingers shocking against my hot skin and he swallowed up the sound with a kiss. Not to be outdone, I immediately started undoing his fly.

Our pacing slowed then synched, his tongue snaking over my bottom lip as our hands found their places. Neither of us could maintain our composure anymore, our words falling by the wayside as our bodies betrayed the extent of our desire.

“So wet,” he whispered, sounding awed. There was something so intensely erotic about looking into his eyes while just feeling what he was doing to me. It was perhaps too erotic, encroaching on intimate.

I began to stroke him, alternating the strength of my grip as I worked his shaft and he shuddered against me, throbbing in my hand. The impressive length of him was slick with the proof of his own arousal but I withdrew my hand anyway and my tongue, just about catching a taste of him.

His focused stare turned darker at the sight of it right before he pinched his eyes shut against the sensation of my hand slipping back into his pants. His fingers began to stumble through the patterns they were just learning to memorize.

In the few brief moments in which I pulled ahead, I found myself drinking in the sight of him coming undone. The pantry was quiet except for the sounds of our heavy, ragged breaths and it reminded me of the moment we shared in the iron yard, right before Dax’s walls went up again.

His face was completely unguarded and awash with pleasure, his mouth open. I felt my pussy throb around his fingers, and it was that signal that seemed to rouse him back to the present. When he started moving again, he did so with a newfound resolve.

I was sure that Dax and I shared certain reservations because he buried his face in my neck again, and while the illusion might’ve been that he wanted to tease me more, I knew it was something more than that. He was hiding and I let him.

I let him rebuild those walls enough to turn the spotlight back on me and it was my turn to lose my footing when he slid another finger inside of me and started circling my clit with his thumb. The dexterity was unfair as hell but I didn’t even have the sense left to complain.

My body was starting to sing for him, that familiar knot of tension pulling tighter and tighter in my core and all it took was one final kiss for it to snap. I came all over his hand, biting into his shoulder to muffle the scream that I was certain Bear and Sy would be able to hear.

Dax let me break against him and held me against the wall until the aftershocks finally started to subside. That was the hardest I’d come in a long time and my body was extra sensitive.

“Not so funny now, is it, Whittaker?” Dax said with that stupid smirk on his face again and in retaliation, I brushed my thumb against the glans of his dick. His body jerked against my touch and his breath hitched.

“It’s pretty funny,” I insisted, giving him a weak smile. “Now are you gonna stand there and think up your next wisecrack or are you gonna fuck me?”

Dax managed to do the impossible and actually bite back his retort long enough for him to lean one arm above my head and brace himself while his other hand guided his cock towards my entrance.

“Is this what you want, Counselor?” he mouthed against my jaw, teasing my folds with the tip of his dick. My body reacted before logic could stop it and my hips lurched forward, instantly seeking more friction. Dax chuckled in satisfaction. “Guess you do.”

He made it a game, evidently wanting more of a reaction from me the more I tried to fight it. He flinched every time the most sensitive part of him grinded against the most sensitive part of me, but he still wouldn’t yield. Flashes of sharper pleasure pierced through the last of the aftershocks and I craved another high, needed to feel another inescapable crash before my brain truly rebooted.

But when I reached down, pissed off and impatient and so embarrassingly desperate for it that I wanted him to join me in that humiliation, his laughter guttered out. Now, when I used my hands to guide him inside me, he didn’t possess the restraint to sustain his ego anymore.

Instead he slipped inside my pussy and couldn’t stop his body from caving around mine. The soul-deep groan that he released in my ear wasn’t loud but it may as well have been a scream for the way I felt it echo in my own chest.

He braced me against the door again, his lips pressed to my cheek and I gripped the nearest shelf frame. There was no more teasing, no more ego, no more games.

We moved together, each of us covering the other’s mouth as our involuntary sounds began to build. Riding off the coattails of my first orgasm, the second was already starting to crest, speeded up by Dax’s loss of self control as my body spurred him towards his own climax.

And when it hit, it hit.

He came first this time, groaning into the palm of my hand. That was it. That was all I needed to see and hear and feel before I let myself go for the second time, my eyes rolling to the back of my skull as wave after wave of white-hot pleasure washed over me.

We stayed like that for a while, unable to move in that tiny, confined space. Both of us were trembling slightly, my own body now also covered with a sheen of sweat.

By the time my eyes opened, his were already looking at me, a hint of fear circling in their depths. The post-sex haze was still charged and volatile and it was an external factor, a terrifying reminder of the time and place that existed outside the pantry door that forced us to spring apart.

“Miller! Where the hell are you? Get your ass back here,” Bear’s voice boomed from somewhere that was terrifyingly close by, making it clear he was not in the basement anymore. Dax and I got dressed quickly, and I tried smoothing down my no-doubt crazy sex hair.