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I spread my hands over her head and press gently, then start moving my hips, meeting every motion she makes.

She moans around me, her thighs pressing together.

Jesus, she’s insanely horny, and the sight of it is fucking sinful.

“Do you need something, Thalia?” I ask with irony, smirking down at her.

She bites me lightly, sending another sharp shiver through my entire body, but keeps moving her head at the same pace.

Chuckling, I push her off me and pull her to her feet, lifting her into my arms.

“Come here,” I say as I carry her to the table covered in clothes waiting to be presented to her.

With one sweep of my hand, I push everything off, then lay her on her back, her legs opening for me.

“Tell me what you want, Thalia,” I whisper as I lean over her.

With my teeth, I pull down the zipper of her dress—sensual, hungry—from the neck all the way to her thighs, keeping my eyes locked on hers.

Her face is flushed, her hair deliciously messy, and her chest rises and falls quickly with every breath.

“Ethan, please,” she says, surrendering entirely to me.

“Please what, kitten?” I ask the moment I finish unzipping her dress.

I lift one of her legs and start kissing it teasingly, from her ankle all the way to her knee. Every kiss makes her body twitch, her skin breaking into goosebumps.

Thalia keeps her head pressed against the table, moaning loudly, both hands clamped over her mouth, trying desperately not to be heard.

From her knee, I begin licking a warm line—far too slow for what she needs—up her thigh.

“Words, Thalia,” I whisper right against her pussy, over the red panties.

Then, still with my tongue, I stroke her through the fabric, circling her clit, while I slide my hands up to her breasts, squeezing her nipples through her bra, already hard for me.

She arches her back, her thighs shifting restlessly, searching for the friction she desperately needs.

But every time she gets close, I pull my mouth away from her pussy, leaving her shaking, trembling.

“Ethan,” she says again, lifting her head this time, her eyes locking onto mine.

“I’ll give you everything you want, everything you need, Thalia…” I tell her, my voice calm, my gaze pinned to hers. “Pleasure, safety, anything material you could ask for…” I continue, sliding my tongue over her panties again. “But for that, you have to stop pretending in front of everyone else.”

Her face changes instantly, fear shimmering across her features, raw and unfiltered. Her eyes meet mine with a mixture of panic and vulnerability, like she’s afraid of what my words truly mean.

I keep playing with her breasts, my hands now under her bra, directly on her warm, sensitive skin.

“What am I supposed to say when I’m asked what we are then, Ethan?” she whispers, confused. “I don’t even know what this is, because you…” She doesn’t finish. She just looks at me—full of hope, longing, hunger.

I wrap my lips around her clit through the thin fabric, sucking gently at first, then deeper, more demanding.

She loses control instantly. Her whole body trembles visibly, her thighs tensing around my head, but this time I’m exactly where she needs me, matching every movement of her hips with my mouth.

Her orgasm crashes into her violently, her moans muffled beneath her hands as she tries—and fails—to stay quiet.

I don’t give her a second to recover, not even a breath to ride out the last wave of pleasure. I sit up, push her panties aside with one hand, and slide into her in one deep, powerful thrust.

Gripping her hips with both hands, I start moving—fast, urgent. Every thrust is a confession of desire I haven’t said aloud. The pressure coils inside me, piercing and dizzying.