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“This is so wrong,” I whimper, but the words come out as little more than a mumble against his lips. I don’t know who I’m trying to convince, him or me.
“So fucking right,” he growls, his lips moving to my ear as his cock continues its relentless assault on my body.
The familiar pressure builds in my core, the coil of desire tightening with every thrust. Moaning, I throw my head back in ecstasy as he works his magic.
Fuck.
I’m going to come in a public place while a complete stranger fucks me.
I’m overwhelmed by the sensations crashing through me, bliss, fear, lust, and the thrill of doing something I never thought I would do. The truth is, it’s terrifying, but at the same time, it’s the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever felt. I’m completely at his mercy.
“That’s it,” he hisses, thrusting hard and fast into me, his cock hammering in and out of my pussy. “Come for me, Tinkerbell. Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”
The words send me over the edge, and suddenly I’m falling, my body rocked by an orgasm unlike any I’ve ever experienced. My entire body shudders, and I gasp as waves of pleasure wash over me, stealing my breath and my voice, washing away my sense of self until I’m nothing more than an empty vessel.
His fingers tighten around my hips, and he rams into me for one final thrust, burying himself deep inside my pussy as he comes.
When his body goes slack, he leans his forehead against mine, his hot breath mingling with my panting. We stay like that for a moment, him buried inside me, neither of us aware of the reality around us, time entirely lost to us.
Knowing what I’ve just done crashes around me like a thunderstorm. I’ve just had unprotected sex with a stranger in a club in front of hundreds of people.
He pulls back, that sinful smile on his face as he does up his fly.
“Thanks, Tinks. I needed that.”
As abruptly as he entered my life, he now walks away, disappearing into the throng of club-goers without so much as a backward glance. The emptiness left in his wake engulfs me entirely, an inexplicable mixture of satisfaction and confusion swirling around inside. He had been everything I both feared and craved – and yet he vanished as quickly as a shadow in the night.
My heart pounds erratically in my chest, caught between the exhilaration of what just transpired and the anguish of knowing it might never happen again. Why can’t I shake this feeling? This insatiable longing for a man I don’t even know?
“Fuck,” I mutter, shoving my dress down and looking around to see if anyone is looking at me.
They aren’t. Or if they are, they aren’t doing so overtly.
Wiggling my panties back into place, I feel the dampness pool, and I shudder.
What have I done?
Feeling nauseous with the booze and the knowledge of my actions, I lean against the cool wall, trying to catch my breath and make sense of the overwhelming mix of emotions coursing through me. The taste of him still lingers on my lips, a bittersweet reminder of what just transpired in this dim corner of the club.
Tinkerbell, he’d called me, his Irish accent making the words sound like a deliciously wicked incantation. A shiver runs down my spine as I remember the way he’d looked at me, his intense blue eyes seeming to pierce through every layer of my defenses, laying bare my darkest desires.
“Summer?” I hear my name being called faintly over the cacophony, snapping me out of my reverie. It’s my friend. Her voice tinged with concern. I know she must be wondering where I’ve been, why I disappeared so suddenly – but how could I possibly explain the truth to her? How could I put into words the intensity of my encounter with the enigmatic stranger?
“Summer, let’s go home,” Amelia says, finding me. “I’m way past drunk.”
“Same.” I nod, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the club. As we make our way through the throngs of people, I glance back one last time, my eyes scanning the crowd for any glimpse of him. But he’s gone, vanished like a ghost into the night.
“Are you okay?” Amelia asks, her worried gaze fixed on me.
I force a smile, trying to mask the turmoil within.
“Fine,” I lie, my voice barely audible above the din. “I’m fine.”
But as we step out into the cool night air, I can’t shake the feeling that something has changed forever – that I’ve crossed a line from which there’s no turning back. Part of that is fueled by alcohol, hunger for the dangerous taste of forbidden desire, now awakened and impossible to ignore.
2
CIARÁN
