Almost, but not quite.
Slowly, I turn, and my hair is tugged roughly to the side, forcing my head to whip to the left. He brings his mouth down on the back of my neck, with the graze of sharp teeth. He caresses my shoulders, then slowly trails his touch down my arms. Lacing our fingers together, he drags his lips from my neck to my shoulder while placing my palms flat against the wall.
My heart pounds so hard I’m surprised it’s not cracking my ribcage. My fingertips grip the wall as the world spins like a top around me, and I fear I may pass out from—what? Fear? Excitement?
Anticipation. Exquisite anticipation.
With my head turned to the side, he’s a large, looming shadow behind me. A few feet away, the lantern gradually grows dimmer and dimmer, running out of the energy that fuels it. Soon it will fade out completely, and we’ll be in pitch darkness.
Encircling my waist with his hands, he leans down until his lips meet the outer curve of my ear.
“Do you think I’m dirty?” he whispers as he tugs my skirt up to my waist. Just as the glow of the lantern dies out, he tears my panties off and throws them to the ground.
Gulping, I answer without even thinking. “Yes.”
“Good. I’m going to make you dirty, too,” he growls against my ear. “And it’s never going to wash off.”
I silently agree with his prediction as his hands move down my hips to cup my ass cheeks, squeezing hard. He bites into the flesh of my neck, and his wet tongue follows, soothing and then sucking savagely, causing me to cry out as he slips a hand between my thighs. Long, talented fingers slide between my wet lips. My cry morphs into a gasp, and his lips curve into a grin against the side of my throat.
An owl hoots somewhere in the trees above us.
Acorn rustles on the ground beside us.
And behind me, the distinct sound of a zipper.
A light, misty rain blows on us in the breeze. We were born in the rain, I realize, as he plunges his rock-hard length into me, lifting me off my feet. Pain seers through my body, radiating from my pelvis to my limbs. With every thrust of his hips, my cheek presses against the stone, but I can’t move. It hurts. It feels so good. I want it to stop. I want more.
He snakes his arm around my front, skims his hand down my belly, and zeroes in on my throbbing clit, fingering it in perfect time with his deep strokes. I can feel my walls tearing and stretching to take his width. The primal eroticism makes me quiver and clench around him despite the sharp pain.
Leaning his forehead against the top of my head, his damp hair hangs down over me, tickling my cheeks and bare shoulder, bringing with it the scent of sandalwood, coconut, and tobacco. My clit pulses and spasms in his fingers as he brings me to orgasm, my moans and short yelps pervading the silence of the night.
I yelp when he abruptly pulls out, spins me around, and covers my mouth with his before I have a chance to catch my breath. Wobbling on my high heels, I grip his arms, lost in the whirlwind of feelings assaulting my body and mind.
Did we—? What did we just do?
Tangled around his ring-clad fingers, my hair is pulled, forcing my head down. Forcing me to kneel on the ground.
“Suck me,” he rasps, dragging his knuckles across my cheek as he gazes down at me.
Grasping his stiff, damp cock in my hand, I take him into my mouth and lick and suck him like I’ve done this a hundred times before—which I haven’t. He tastes salty and metallic, a cocktail of us. If memories had a flavor, ours would be salt and blood. It’s disgusting and beautiful, and I lose my mind. This man is a drug and I’m an addict. I’m high on him and us, lost in the twirling world around me, every smell, sight, and touch heightened and vivid and so incredibly disconnected and hazy.
Maybe he slipped me a roofie when he kissed me. Maybe he had something on his tongue and now I’m high as a kite. Or maybe this is all just a crazy-ass sex dream and I’m going to wake up next to Archie the cat any moment with Titanic playing in the background.
I gag on the cock slamming into my tonsils.
Nope. This isn’t a dream. I’m choking on a stranger’s dick.
This isn’t me. This isn’t me. This isn’t me.
“Piper….” Grabbing the back of my head, he breathes out my name as hot cum propels down my throat. I swallow him and he slowly pulls out, skimming over my lips. I wipe my wet mouth with the back of one hand while my other clenches the side of his leg.
He helps me to my feet before zipping himself back into his jeans, and I avoid any eye contact, attempting to straighten my skirt over my bare ass. My panties, my favorite pair with the pretty lace trim, are lost somewhere on the ground.
As I try to focus in the dark, Evan leans down to capture my mouth with his, but I quickly turn my face away, escaping the kiss. My mouth no longer feels like my own. My lips are numb, my tongue tingly, my throat burning.
“I have to go.” My voice shakes as I shiver uncontrollably and step away from him, tripping over my purse as I do so. I don’t even remember dropping it. Nor do I remember the misty rain stopping. I quickly snatch up my purse and throw the strap over my shoulder.
“I-I have to go,” I repeat and sprint through the foggy darkness in the direction I came from, running my hand along the damp stone until I find the end of the bridge, ignoring his voice calling after me.
On my hands and knees I crawl up the hill and let out a sob of relief when I finally reach the asphalt path. My heels clack as I practically run toward the safety of the wrought-iron gates. The shape of my bench appears under one of the lamps, and I’m suddenly overcome with nausea.
Clutching my stomach, I run to the garbage can I’ve thrown my lunch into every day for months and vomit into it, my horrible retching echoing around me. Using the garbage can for balance, I fish in my purse for a mint and suck wildly on it before I continue to walk toward my car. The taste of vomit and sex in my mouth is overpowering, an acrid poison I will never forget.
I drive home like a certified lunatic. An endless stream of tears flow down my cheeks and I’m shocked I don’t crash into something or get pulled over for speeding and driving erratically. When I reach my driveway, I’m relieved to see all the lights in the house are off except for the front porch, signaling they’ve all gone to bed.
Thank God.
Even with the heat in my car blasting, I shivered all the way home, and I’m still shaking when I let myself in the house and quietly go down to my room. Ignoring Archie’s stare from beside his half-empty food dish, I toss my purse onto the couch, kick off my shoes, and make a beeline for the bathroom. I lock the door behind me.
The reflection in the mirror above the sink nearly makes me puke again.
I blink at the girl there as she stares back at me. I have no idea who she is. She’s a mess, breathing heavy with her mouth partially open. Her hair is damp and looks as if she was recently electrocuted or is channeling Cher. The charcoal eyeliner and mascara she spent fifteen minutes perfecting this morning are now smeared under her puffy eyes and across her pale cheeks. Her lips are abnormally red and swollen, the corners of her mouth slightly cracked.
From sucking dick.
Trembling, I take a deep breath and try to get my shit together.
Half an hour ago, two of the most intimate parts of my body were stretched around a huge cock, and now there’s dried cum on my chin and in my hair. My gaze drifts down to the blotchy red marks on my neck as memories of his lips, teeth, and hands biting, sucking, and gripping me sends another wave of odd euphoria through me.