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“Let me touch you,” he says in a voice so low it scratches at my skin.
I’m not naïve enough to say that I don’t have control over my body, but I don’twantto have control.
Turning my mind off, I press my ass against him, only slightly, feeling the evidence of his desperation hard as steel against me. It’s the only affirmation he needs. Cash’s hand snakes down my leg and he lifts up my dress with one hand as the other slides below my panties. As soon as he touches my bare skin we both let out a breath, and he holds still for a moment.
I don’t need this moment though. If he gives me a moment to think, I’ll turn around and run out of this room. Which is exactly what I should do.
Instead, I push against his hand, seeking his movement, and rub my ass against his erection, leaving him groaning and biting down on my shoulder. “Fuck, Grace, yes,” he mutters as his fingers expertly circle my clit. As I continue to gyrate against him, he slides two fingers inside me and groans, “You’re soaking.”
There is no hiding the evidence of my desire for this man. I am drenched to the point that I feel myself dripping between my legs.
“Condom, Cash,” I pant, knowing I need him inside me as soon as possible. His fingers aren’t enough. I’m not sure even the feel of him will be enough. I need him bare, but that’s not an option.
He slides his fingers out of me and pushes me forward against the railing, transporting me back to the night over the summer when we first entered this room. When he stripped me bare and fucked me in the open.
Just the memories leave me gripping the metal and begging for him to hurry.
The telltale jangle of his belt, the snick of the zipper on his pants, and the ripping of the condom wrapper each hit me like little matches against my skin, fanning my desire.
The buzz in my ear accelerates as he moves closer, lifting the back of my dress, pulling down my panties and pressing his hand against my back so that I’m angling up for his access. “Faster,” I beg, needing him inside me before I lose my nerve.
Cash presses his head against my opening and leans forward so that his breath is against my neck. “I’m dying without you, Grace,” he whispers, a breathless confession before pushing inside me, the strength of the feeling leaving me unable to breathe.
I squeeze my eyes shut, ignoring his words, ignoring the way it feels to finally have the one person who made me whole inside me again, and instead focus on one thing and one thing only—my orgasm. I chase it like a thief in the night. I have no right to it, no claim whatsoever that entitles me to grasp it so quickly, but it’s there, circling and teasing and pulling at me as Cash presses the point inside my body that feels almost like a massage, making me teeter into the abyss.
When his fingers find my clit and he circles and whispers what a good girl I am, I spasm around his cock, as every nerve in my body feels as if they are clenching and exploding, and then Cash snaps as his cock throbs inside me and he lets out a guttural cry as he comes.
His weight against my body feels debilitating, and shame hits me almost immediately. I press forward so that he’s pulled out of me and push down my dress. Then without another word or a glance in his direction, I dart to the door, leaving my dignity and Cash behind.
