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"Turn around," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
I obeyed, the rebellious part of me taking perverse pleasure in the anticipation of what was to come. The sound of fabric rustling filled the air as he gathered my dress, hiking it up over my hips. His fingers brushed against my skin, teasing, before he deftly removed the vibrator.
"Good girl," Nash praised, and the words struck a chord inside me, reverberating through my bones. "You made it through dinner without coming. Now, let me reward you."
I bit my lip as he unbuttoned his pants, the zipper lowering with a deafening noise that echoed off the tiled walls. The head of his cock caressed my soaking entrance, sending a whimper past my lips. Nash's hand went to my neck, his grip firm but not painful as he tilted my head back, "No noise, Celeste. Understand?"
I nodded, swallowing the moan building in my throat as he slid inch by agonizing inch into me. He was thick and hard, stretching me further than I'd ever been before, and I dug my nails into the grimy wall in front of me. He was claiming me—marking me as his own in the most primal way possible.
Nash began to move, slowly at first, each thrust clinical and deliberate. The low growl of my name on his lips lit a fire inside me that I couldn't contain any longer. It was animalistic—base—and everything I never knew I needed. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place as he drove into me with renewed force. The world narrowed down to us—to the sound of our breathless moans echoing off the walls and the slap of skin on skin.
"Fuck, yes," I murmured, the bitter edge to my voice softened by the rawness of our connection.
Nash set a punishing pace, his movements unrelenting. Each thrust drove deeper, stoking the fire that he had kindled within me hours earlier. Our shadows danced on the wall, a silent testimony to the lust that consumed us.
"More," I found myself begging, the words torn from my throat.
"Greedy, aren't we?" He chuckled darkly, but obliged, his grip tightening as he delivered exactly what I craved.
Lost in the rhythm of our bodies, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only the sound of flesh against flesh, the scent of lust heavy in the air. With each penetrating drive, I could feel us spiraling closer to oblivion, our shared climax looming like a thunderstorm on the horizon.
"Come with me, Celeste," Nash whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
And I did. We crossed the threshold together, our cries mingling in the confined space—a symphony of release, echoing off the walls of our temporary sanctuary.
I arched into him, my nails digging into the coarse wall of the janitor's closet. Nash's every thrust was a stroke of genius against my senses, igniting sparks that threatened to blaze out of my control. My mind whirled with each deliberate movement, a carousel of lust and sensation spinning faster with his unyielding tempo.
"Feel that, Celeste?" His voice, low and commanding, vibrated through me. "Every inch of you is mine."
The raw power in his tone sent shivers down my spine, stoking the rebellion inside me. I wanted to defy him, to prove I wasn't just some plaything, but damn if my body didn't betray me, responding eagerly to his touch, his grip, his everything. The paradox of wanting to fight and surrender simultaneously was maddening.
"Yours," I panted, the single word a confession in the dark.
With a growl, Nash's hands roamed over me, claiming territory with every caress. He was a maestro, and I was the finely tuned instrument beneath his expert fingers. There was no gentleness in his possession; it was all-consuming, a wildfire that left nothing untouched. His dominance was an aphrodisiac, fierce and intoxicating.
"Stay with me, Celeste," he demanded, as he pushed me to the brink. My body writhed, caught between agony and ecstasy—the sweet torment of being so close to the edge yet not allowed to tumble over it without him.
"Please, Nash," I begged, the words strangled by the intensity of my need. I was dancing on the edge, the sharp thrill of pain mingling with pleasure, each one heightening the other.
"Tell me what you want," he commanded, slowing his pace torturously.
"You," I gasped. "I want you—all of you."
He laughed, the sound dark and promising. "All in good time, my shadow. All in good time."
His control was absolute, his pace relentless but calculated, each movement designed to tease out the ultimate pleasure from both of us. With Nash, it was always a game—one where I was willingly ensnared in his trap, desperate for the delicious punishment he doled out with such precision
The world exploded around me as I shattered into a million pieces, my climax tearing through me like lightning. Nash followed, his grip on my hips tightening as he lost himself inside me, our bodies syncing in perfect harmony before collapsing together against the wall.
We emerged from our sanctuary, the janitor's closet now a sacred site of our indiscretion. Our clothes clung to sweat-slicked skin. As we stepped out, I caught the scent of disinfectant and the muted sounds of the restaurant beyond—the mundane reality waiting to reclaim us.
But when Nash looked at me, his gaze searing and tender all at once, I knew we had transcended far beyond the confines of this night. We shared a glance that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the storm we'd weathered together, the insatiable hunger we'd fed.
"Ready for the world?" he asked, his hand finding mine, fingers interlocking with a possessive strength that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Only if you're there to fuck it up with me," I shot back, the corners of my mouth lifting in a challenge. And with that, we walked back into the fray, side by side.
Chapter 36
