Before heading back to my room, I pause at Mia’s door. It’s closed, but the walls around this place aren’t exactly thick. They put marble on the floors, but the walls are paper-thin. I’m sure if I sat around and thought about it long enough, I’d be able to create one of those metaphor things they talk about in Mia’s writing class. Everything looks beautiful and elegant on the surface, but it’s thin and cheap underneath.
I turn away, but a soft moan freezes me on the spot. I hold my breath, waiting to see if I hear it again. Was it my imagination?
No. There it is again, a little louder now. I open my mouth, prepared to call her name, but before I can, I hear something else. “Zeke…”
That, I didn’t imagine. She moaned my name. Holy shit.
Now, there’s nothing in the world that could get me away from this door. I lean in, pressing my ear to the wood. There’s a faint buzzing noise in the room, too. A vibrator? How the hell did she get her hands on a vibrator? I would have known about that. Then again, she could’ve easily ordered one online over the summer or even before then, for all I know. They sell those things all over the place now, and she could have mixed it in with a bunch of other things she needed. The boss looks at the bank statement but stops short of going through her packages. One little bit of privacy he gives her.
He’s probably afraid he’d find her ordering tampons or something else that would embarrass him. He’d be worse than embarrassed if he knew she had a sex toy.
I close my eyes, concentrating on the sound of her soft moans. What would she look like in there? Legs spread, eyes closed, mouth hanging open while her head turns from side to side on the pillow. Her hair would be splayed out in a fan all around her.
Is she dressed? No, I don’t think so. I think she would strip down and use her free hand to tease her other sensitive places. Starting with her tits, those perfect tits, her pretty, pink nipples standing out in tight peaks. In my depraved mind, she lifts one of them to her lips and swipes her tongue over the tip. Fuck.
The buzzing gets a little louder. My cock is straining, precum soaking into my boxer briefs. That’s all I’m wearing, so there’s nothing to hide the erection sticking out in front of me. I run my palm over it and groan softly, lost in the mental image of a goddess splayed out on her bed, getting off while thinking of me. Moaning my name. It’s me she’s imagining with her, my fingers and tongue against her pussy instead of a vibrator. She’s probably soaking wet, lips coated in her juices. I’m not going to be able to handle this much longer before I have to release.
“Oh, yes… yes…” I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to open the door and go in, to take her the way I know she’s dying for me to. The way I’ve been dying to since the day the boss brought her home. This is insane. This can’t happen. He’d kill me.
But he’s not here. And holy fuck, I’m going to die anyway if I don’t do something about this. I’ve been a fucking saint up to this point. Nobody would hold out as long as I have. And I don’t have to fuck her-she can stay whole or pure or whatever. But dear God, I have to touch her. I need to.
My hand closes around the doorknob, and I test it. I have a key for her room-she doesn’t know that, it’s one of my many secrets-but I don’t need it. She left it unlocked.
There’s no going back from this, but that doesn’t stop me. Nothing could.
“Mia?” I murmur, opening the door and pretending to be concerned.
It’s pitch black in here, but my eyes have already adjusted to the darkness elsewhere. She’s frantic, hiding the toy under the bedspread, then pulling it up around her shoulders. “What the fuck? What are you doing?”
“I heard you moan. I thought maybe you were sick.” If she can see my stiff cock preceding me, she’ll know that’s a total lie. She’s probably too busy freaking out to notice.
“I’m fine. Since when do you just walk into my room? Please, get out.”
“But you were moaning. You said my name. I thought maybe you wanted me.” It’s evil, what I’m doing, but it’s also too much fun to stop. Watching her practically implode with embarrassment. There’s a cord running from the outlet closest to her bed. It disappears under the blanket, where she’s concealed her toy.
“You’re imagining things.”
“Are you sure about that?” I walk over to the outlet, bending down to touch the cord. She’s breathing fast, in short, little gasps. “What do you have under there? You know it’s dangerous to have electric things in bed with you. It could start a fire if you fall asleep.”
“What the fuck? It’s the middle of the night, and you’re going to lecture me?” When I try to pull back the blanket, she only grips it tighter. “What game are you playing?”
“No games.” Because I’m sick to death of games. I’m sick of pretending not to want what my soul needs. I stand straight, turning to her, and now there’s no missing my erection. Her eyes go wide when she sees it. “We both know what you were doing in here. And you were moaning my name while you did it.”
“You’re crazy,” she whispers, shaking. “This is wrong.”
“Is it? Was it wrong for you to parade around here for days wearing practically nothing, hoping to turn me on? Were you trying to drive me crazy? Because if I am now, it’s your fault.” I lean down, inhaling as much of her scent as I can. “Little princesses need to learn how dangerous it can be to play games with somebody bigger and stronger.”
I ease the blanket back, noting how she doesn’t try to stop me. Her breathing quickens, and I see I was partly wrong-she’s wearing a tank top, but her thong is down around her ankles.
“Spread your legs,” I order, staring at the place where her thighs meet. When she hesitates, I look away long enough to meet her wide, untrusting eyes. “Do it.”
Her thighs part, and oh, my God, even in the darkness, I can see how her lips shine. Shaved smooth, soft, and slick. “Is this how wet you get when you think about me?” I ask in a whisper before placing a hand on her knee and slowly sliding it over her soft skin. Just as soft as it looks.
“Don’t make fun of me,” she whispers. “Please.”
“I’m not making fun. I only want to know.” She closes her eyes and whimpers while my fingers play along the insides of her thighs. I could play with her like this all night if it wasn’t for the severe ache from my dripping cock. I’m going to need to do something about that, and soon, but right now, I’m under the spell of the moment. Finally, I put my hands on her the way I’ve always wanted to after all this time.
She nods quickly, her eyes still closed, tension tightening her muscles. “Oh, God…”
“Nobody’s ever touched you like this, have they?” I’m close to her pussy, so close, teasing both of us now.
“No, not ever.” Her back arches, thrusting her tits into the air.
Right, because she was meant for me. This body was meant for me. I can’t help it anymore. I allow my fingers to graze her slit, picking up her juices, and her moan makes me harder than ever. I stroke her lips, watching her writhe, her tiny little squeals music to my ears.
“No toy could ever do what I can do to you,” I murmur, dipping my other hand into my shorts and stroking myself in time with my strokes against her pussy. “Nothing would ever be as good as this. And the next time you touch yourself and think about me, this is what you’ll remember.
Now you know what it feels like for me to have my hands on you.”
“It’s so good…” She’s trying so hard to hold on, but her body has other ideas. “Please, more…”
“I want to watch you come. I want you to come all over my fingers. I want you to coat them. Can you do that for me, princess?” For once, she doesn’t argue with the name. She only grips the pillow, one hand on either side of her head, hips now jerking wildly. I don’t know if it’s my words, my touch, or both, but she’s on the verge of something huge. And I’m right there with her, so close, my balls tightening and rising, ready to explode.
All it takes is the slightest brush against the tip of her clit, and she loses it, hips shooting up from the bed, her legs clamping hard around my wrist. “That’s right,” I pant, fisting my cock furiously and raising my voice so she’ll hear me over her hoarse cries. “Give it to me. Give me everything. Come for me, Mia.”
“Zeke!” She goes tense once more, back arching off the bed, her body frozen in a moment of total ecstasy before she collapses against the mattress with a broken sob.
And I’m gone. I can’t hold it back anymore. I stand, aiming for a split second before splashing cum across her thigh. I empty myself, almost roaring in relief. In triumph. I can’t get over the idea of marking her like she’s mine now.
And when I’m finished, and I can hear myself think again, I find her staring up at me. She’s not disgusted or repulsed at the cum running down her leg. I don’t even think she feels guilty.
Especially not when she bites her lip like she’s hiding a smile. If I didn’t know better, I would think she made this happen, but then she couldn’t have known I would be awake. I was silent.
“Wait there.” I go to her bathroom and wet a washcloth under a warm tap before bringing it back and cleaning her up. Neither of us says a word, and nothing needs to be said.
Anything either of us came up with would ruin what just happened anyway.
“Thank you,” she finally whispers, and I’m not sure if she’s thanking me for cleaning her up or for making her come. Either way, I nod my acceptance before leaving the room without another word.
Son of a bitch. Talk about the point of no return.
And of course, instead of quenching my thirst, all I want now is more. To taste her. To feel the pressure from her thighs around my head while she rides out one orgasm after another delivered by my tongue. To feel her from the inside, to know what it’s like for those tight muscles of hers to grip me and milk me dry.
No matter how many times I have her, I don’t think it will ever be enough.
And one time would be too many.
How much harder did I just make my life?