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And then he really lets me have it.
He flips me over so that I’m on my hands and knees where he’s able to enter me from behind. It’s almost my favourite position. Thorn starts to pound into me, not holding back. He’s buried himself all the way to the hilt, the force of his thrusts giving momentum to his balls which slap against me. The extra layer of sensation feels amazing, and the sounds of our fucking fill the room.
Thorn fists my hair and yanks my head back, the sudden sharp pain making me wince, but also creating a rush of wetness between my legs. He notices, of course, and chuckles. “I knew you’d like it rough.” His low growl in my ear sounds more like Rebel than his usual laid back self, and it turns me on to know I’m getting to him as much as he’s getting to me. Thorn shifts and I cry out as he hits that sweet spot inside of me, and he uses the opportunity to change positions, pushing me face down onto my forearms but keeping my ass up in the air. The almost-pain of each thrust is exquisite, and I can’t hold back my cries of delight and pleasure.
In the background, I can hear the partygoers celebrating. Their eager cries begin the countdown to the new year “10...9...” As Thorn continues to move inside me, I realise he isn’t going to get me back in time to see in the new year with the guys. I hope they’re not too mad. But it’s hard to care too much right now; my new orgasm is building like a wave, the rhythmic percussion of our bodies crashing together like the sound of violent water smashing the rocks.
“8...7...” The sound of my breathing, small cries and whimpers breaking free, fill my head. I wonder if they’re filling the space around us; if they’re actually as loud as they seem in my head. To me they feel like a roaring ocean, ferocious and deafening. But Thorn makes no move to silence me, so I’m trusting him that it’s alright and that what we’re doing isn’t going to bring a crowd.
“6...5...” My toes curl, and I realise I’m so close I couldn’t stop now if I wanted to. Crowds be damned, if they want to watch, let them. I just don’t want Thorn to stop what he’s doing.
“Thor, please-“ I beg him, but he keeps me right on the edge. I’m at the crest of the wave, that terrifying moment you watch and wonder how it’s all going to come crashing down.
“Hang on, Princess, trust me,” he murmurs. He continues to pound into me at just the right angle but I’m barely able to hang on.
“4...3...” The cries continue. Thorn slips a hand down to my clit and massages it in time to his relentless thrusts. My hands fist. My back arches. My legs tremble. I bite my lip so hard I draw blood.
“Fuck.” It’s a desperate plea.
“2...1...”
“Now, Princess.” I don’t need to be told twice, I’m already halfway there. I couldn’t hold back a moment longer if my life depended on it.
I scream - actually scream - with the intensity of my release. There’s a roaring in my ears and a myriad of colours exploding behind my closed eyelids. All the feelings and sensations crash down on me at once, and it’s only Thorn grabbing my hips that stops me collapsing in a puddle on the floor. He’s timed it seamlessly so that I can’t be heard over the raucous celebrations outside. I can faintly hear fireworks exploding in the background, but it’s hard to make out anything other than my own ragged breath and pounding heart. It takes a moment for me to realise that Thorn’s movements have slowed and stopped. Holy shit, we came together.
I look over my shoulder at him and am relieved to see that he looks as ruined as I feel.
“Happy new year, Princess.” He leans over to kiss me.
“Happy new year. That’s one I can tick off the bucket list!”
“What? Sex in a cloakroom?”
“No. I’ve always wanted to spend the very last and first moments of a year coming, and you just made that a reality. Thank you.” I grin at his shocked expression and kiss him. “We better get cleaned up. You can bet the others will come looking for us if we don’t show our faces soon.”
Thorn pulls out, and I swear he’s still semi-hard. On impulse, I lean forward and take him into my mouth, licking and sucking our mingled juices from his cock. When he’s clean, I let him slide out of my mouth and wink at him. “Can’t have your cum ruining that Tux now can we, Mr Commando?”
He grins at me, and sort of returns the favour by pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to me to clean myself up. I don’t know what’s more shocking; that Thorn has a tissue or that he’s had the foresight to consider that I may not want to spend the rest of the night dancing as his juices slide down my exposed leg.
“Such a gentleman,” I tease.
“No. A real gentleman would use his tongue to clean up the mess, but somehow with you, I think it would actually lead to us making more mess. And probably getting caught in here...are you decent?”
I have no idea if I’m decent because I can’t see myself. But I feel thoroughly fucked, and his words have me turned on all over again and ready for round two. How the hell am I supposed to meet up with the others and act normal? I’m pretty sure my flushed cheeks, swollen lips and wild hair will be a dead giveaway.
Thorn looks me up and down then groans like he’s tormented. “The others are going to know we’ve had sex.” I hastily try to straighten myself and flatten my hair, anything to look more presentable. “It’s not your appearance,” he moans. “It’s your smell. You smell of sex, and it’s fucking amazing. It’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever smelt. The others are going to go wild. We’ll be lucky if the limo ride home isn’t just one big orgy!”
I don’t correct him, that he means ménage rather than orgy, but I’m no way near as disappointed by that idea as he seems to be. I ignore his teasing and grab his hand, pulling him from the room without even checking to see if the coast is clear. At this point, I don’t care if we get caught. I’m fucking proud of what we’ve just done. It was incredible. And I want a repeat.
As we come out of the closet together (hehe), we’re met in the foyer by the other three guys that we abandoned. Ace looks happy, Jax’s expression is guarded, and Rebel looks pissed like always. Standard MO for these guys then. They might not suspect anything.
I walk over to Ace, rising up on my tiptoes to give him a hug. “Happy new year Aljaž,” I tell him with a peck on the lips and a smile. I move to Jax and do the same. When I turn to Rebel, I see that he isn’t wearing his usual pissed off expression. No, he looks enraged. Before he can say anything though I step forward and give him a gentle look. I hold out my arms, asking for a hug, and when he hesitates, I whisper, “Do you really want our first words of the new year to be in anger, Reb?”
He sighs and steps into my embrace. Relief floods my veins. I try my hardest to hug Rebel tight, but I can barely get my arms around him. He grunts and shifts so that I’m wrapped in his embrace, which makes me feel tiny and doll-like. Rebel could crush me in the blink of an eye, and although he looks mad enough to do that right now, he holds me with a tenderness that makes my stomach somersault.
I step away from his embrace, and we all go back to the ballroom together for more drinks and dancing. It gets late - or is it early? - And we decide to head back to school. I’m momentarily disappointed that we don’t have a hotel room, but it’s probably for the best. In the foyer, I excuse myself for the toilet, and when I come back, the guys are nowhere to be seen. I wonder if they’re waiting for me at the limo, so I step outside.
Raised voices, tight with the strain of withholding unleashed anger, are the first thing that greets me outside. The guys. I can’t see them, but I can hear their deep hissed conversation. It’s a fast exchange like they’re hurrying to get what needs to be said out before I return. I pause for a moment to listen.
