I lifted her and she wrapped her legs around my waist, bringing our bodies together more firmly. I released her hands and she immediately brought them up to my hair and roughly pulled me closer. Fuck, I loved it when she did that. I pushed her against the door but then realized there were too many clothes in the way; I wanted to feel the heat of her skin against my own, wanted to bury myself balls deep in her and keep her pinned to the wall until everyone had long since gone to bed.
She seemed to read my mind as her fingers moved down my sides and began frantically tugging my polo from my pants, lifting it up and over my head.
The sound of laughter outside floated up through the open window, and I felt her tense against me. A long moment passed before her eyes met mine, and it was clear she was struggling with what to say.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she said finally, shaking her head. “He’s waiting for me.” She halfheartedly tried to push me away but I held my ground.
“Do you actually want him?” I asked, feeling a wave of possessiveness boil up inside me. She held my gaze but didn’t answer.
I set her down and pulled her to the dressing table, stopping to stand just behind her. From where we stood, we had a perfect view of the patio below.
I pulled her bare back to my chest and brought my mouth to her ear. “Do you see him?” I asked, my hands sliding along her br**sts. “Look at him.” I skimmed my hands down her abdomen, along her skirt and to her thighs. “Does he make you feel like this?” My fingers floated up her thigh and underneath her panties. A low hiss escaped my mouth as I felt the wetness there and pushed inside. “Would he ever make you this wet?”
She groaned and pressed her hips back into me. “No . . .”
“Tell me what you want,” I whispered against her shoulder.
“Look at him,” I said, my fingers moving in and out of her. “You know what you want.”
“I want to feel you inside me.” She didn’t need to ask me twice. I quickly undid my pants and pushed them down my hips, grinding into her ass before I lifted her skirt and gripped her panties in my hands. “Rip them,” she whispered.
I’d never been able to be this raw and primal with anyone before, and it felt so f**king right with her. I yanked hard and her flimsy panties tore easily. I tossed them to the floor, running my hands along her skin and sliding my fingers down her arms to her hands, where I pressed her palms flat on the table in front of us.
She was a f**king gorgeous sight: bent at the waist, skirt pushed up over her hips, perfect ass on display. We both moaned as I lined myself up and slid in deep. Bending over, I placed a kiss and another “Shhh” on her back.
More laughter came from outside. Joel was down there. Joel, who was basically a good guy, but who wanted to take her away from me. The image was enough to make me push into her more forcefully.
Her strangled sounds made me smile, and I rewarded her with an increase in tempo. A twisted part of me felt a sense of vindication seeing Chloe muted by what I did to her.
She was gasping, fingers searching for something to hold on to, and my c**k so hard inside her, harder every time she tried to make a sound but couldn’t.
Speaking softly against her ear, I asked if she wanted to be f**ked. I asked her if she liked my mouth dirty, if she liked to see me filthy like this, taking her so rough she would bruise.
She stuttered out a yes, and when I moved faster and harder, she begged for more.
The bottles and jars on the table were rattling and tipping over with the force of our movements, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. Gripping her hair, I pulled her up so her back was against my chest. “Do you think he can make you feel this way?”
I continued to thrust in and out of her, forcing her to look out the window.
I knew I was slipping. My walls were falling around me but I didn’t care. I needed her to think of me tonight as she lay in bed. I wanted her to feel me when she closed her eyes and touched herself, remembering the way I’d f**ked her. My free hand ran up her sides to her breast, cupping it and twisting her ni**les.
“No,” she moaned. “Never like this.” Sliding my hand down her side I placed it behind her knee and hitched it up to the table, opening her up wider and allowing my thrusts to deepen.
“Do you feel how perfectly you fit around me?” I groaned into her neck. “You feel so f**king good. When you go downstairs, I want you to remember this. Remember what you do to me.”
The sensation was becoming too overwhelming and I knew I was getting close. I was beyond desperate. I craved her like a drug, and this feeling consumed my every waking thought. Taking her hand in mine, I laced our fingers and moved them down her body to her clit, both our hands stroking and teasing. I groaned as I felt myself glide in and out of her.
“Do you feel that?” I whispered into her ear, spreading our fingers so they slipped on either side of me.
She turned her head and whimpered into the skin of my neck. It wasn’t enough, and I needed to keep her quiet. Removing my hand from her hair, I gently covered her mouth and placed a kiss against her flushed cheek. She let out a muffled cry, the possible sound of my name, as her body tensed and then tightened all around me.
After her eyes closed and her lips relaxed into a satisfied sigh, I started taking what I needed: faster now, watching in the mirror so I could see how my thrusts made her br**sts move.