by Kendra Leigh
For a time we were lost in the music and the synchronous uniting of our bodies, our senses grasping greedily for the fulfillment the evening had deprived us of. I was aroused beyond belief from the mere contact, the intimacy of his lips on my skin, and the intoxicating woody, spicy scent that was him alone. Jealousy had consumed us both, and we’d responded by denying each other. The final result was an almost unbearable thirst, like we were hankering after a drug which we’d been forcibly denied.
Ethan’s hands began to move, his fingertips skimming over my sex and up onto the bare flesh of my midriff to stroke in lazy circles. One hand lowered, the fingertips disappearing underneath the waistband of my skirt hanging from my hips. The other slid upwards to where my shirt was knotted, his fingertips smoothing their way along the edge of the fabric which covered my breasts. Both hands loitered, threatening—or promising—to venture further. His breathing became ragged, the short bursts of breath matching mine and proof that he, too, had momentarily forgotten where we were.
Suddenly afraid that neither of us would be able to control of our growing passion, I swiveled in his arms, coming face to face with his dark, heated glare. It bore into me, filled with longing and passion—and anger.
Positioning himself so the rigid muscles of his thigh were between my legs, he began to grind it against my pantiless crotch. The friction was mind-blowing, almost unbearably good without the additional safeguard of my panties to shield my knot of pulsing nerves.
Ethan slid his hand over my backside and the length of my back and neck to fist into my hair, his grasp holding me steady only inches from his lips. “What’s the matter, Angel, worried you can’t control it?”
“No.” I pressed my hip into his solid erection. “I’m worried you can’t.”
His lip curled into a lazy, cocksure smile. “You’ve been very bad tonight, Cinders. I think you need a lesson, a very harsh reminder of just who you belong to.”
A sharp, thrilling stab of lust shot through my body, my breasts becoming heavy, nipples pebbling hard and needy in response. “And how exactly do you propose to do that, Charming?”
“I’m going fuck you so hard, you’ll never forget again.”
“I didn’t forget. You did.” I paused for a beat. “And besides, your threat doesn’t worry me. We’re in a room full of people. We could be here for hours yet. You may be a wild cat now, but by the time you get me home, you’ll have tamed into a mere pussycat.”
Grasping my hair even harder, he crushed his lips onto mine, his tongue forcing my lips apart and delving passionately, possessively into my mouth. Then just as abruptly, he pulled away. “Who said I was going to wait until I got you home?”
Gripping my hand tightly, he pulled me through the horde of tangled, swaying bodies to the corner of the stage. A small flight of three steps led to a door, and after glancing swiftly around to be certain we weren’t being watched, Ethan wasted no time in wrenching it open and dragging me through. A short passage led to the back of the stage, and although a clear view of the dance floor and the back of the DJ could easily be seen, the space was surrounded in long-established velvet curtains and shrouded in darkness.
Ethan slowed, pulling me along behind him, being careful not to collide with the array of technical equipment and musical instruments discarded by the club’s Saturday night band. When we reached the center of the backstage there was a table stacked with drums—bongos and timbales, and a variety of other types I couldn’t name. Ethan turned me to face them, placing both of my hands palms-down over the stretched membrane of the bongo drums.
“You’ve brought me here to play the drums?” I asked with smug confidence.
Reaching around to grip my jaw, he turned my head slightly to the left, his face pressed up against my neck, his lips at my ear. “I’ve brought you here so you can watch all the sad motherfuckers who have been straining in their fucking pants because they’ve been wondering what it would be like to get you out of these.” His hand appeared in front of my face, my black lace panties dangling from his pointy finger.
Suddenly, his knee was between my legs, forcing them apart, and his free hand was grasping the hem of my skirt, yanking it upwards to leave me naked from the waist down.
Horrified that I might be seen, I panicked and began to wriggle away from him. “Ethan, no, someone will see.”
But the strength of his hand clasping my skirt at my hip and his frenzied whisper stilled me. “Then keep still. If you upset the drums there’ll be an almighty racket and everyone will know we’re here. You were the one who exposed the parts of your body meant only for me. And you were the one who pushed your ass into the desperate groins of those fuckers out there, so now you’ll have to bear the consequences of your actions.”
“I did not push my ass against them,” I protested, trying to turn my head to see him.
He gripped my jaw and turned my face again. “Look at Sloane,” he whispered. I searched the crowd until I found him standing at the edge of the floor where Ethan had been earlier watching us dance. “See how his eyes search for you. The same greedy fucking eyes that have been stripping you naked all night.” His hand released my hip and trailed across my butt, his fingers stroking down the crevice and under toward my soaking sex. My body quivered in response to his touch and his hand moved swiftly from my face to encircle my waist. Slowly, his fingers parted me, dipping into the moist void and causing me to buck violently back toward his hand. The action earned me a sharp slap on my right butt cheek, his hand moving quickly back to my waist to support my buckling legs.
“You’re not in a position to call the shots, you greedy, eager girl.”
I almost cried out from the shock of the impact, but recovered quickly, remembering that any noise could reveal our location. The smoldering heat of pleasure and pain was a delicious, heady combination, and I found myself desperately keen to stay hidden.
Ethan’s fingers slid over my slippery flesh and plunged inside me, robbing my lungs of the breath I’d been holding. “God you feel so good, baby, so hot and wet. Look.” He nodded toward Sloane who was scanning the floor. Damon was standing next to him, and Valiente was grinding his hips behind the wiggling ass of a very large busted lady. “Every one of them wishes they were the ones with their fingers buried inside your tight, little pussy…” his fingers moved faster, deeper “…but it’s me you’re pussy drips for, baby. Am I right?” His other hand moved in front, the pad of his finger rubbing circles into my pulsing clit.
“Yes.” I could barely gasp the word as I hurtled rapidly toward climax.
“Are you sure, Angel? Because you’ve just been dancing with that fucker Sloane while your panties were in my fucking pocket, so how can I be certain?” His fingers began to slow, my orgasm receding leaving me wilting and groaning in protest.
Shifting, I released the drum, moving my hand behind me to grasp his bulging cock, kneading the solid mass through the fabric of his pants at the same tempo as his magic fingers worked me. He groaned in my ear and shoved himself into me.
“And what about you,” I hissed through a blend of anger and arousal, my fingers working his zipper and slithering inside to fist his hot, rigid cock. “How the fuck do I know your dick isn’t rock solid because of her?” I nodded toward Natasha.
Ethan’s fingers disappeared abruptly, his hands gripping my shoulders and swinging me around to face him. “Because I’m fucking yours, goddamn it. Only ever fucking yours.”
Our breathing was heavy, laden with lust and deprivation, our gazes fixed and filled with emotion. “Good,” I rasped. “Well, fucking kiss me, then.”
Our mouths collided along with our desperate bodies, and suddenly there was an almighty crash. We froze as the DJ pivoted, his eyes squinting as he moved toward the darkness and our hiding place.
“Who’s there?” His eyes scanned until they found our shape in the shadows. “You shouldn’t be back there.”
Ethan pulled my skirt down and grabbed my hand, pulling me deep
er into the shadows in the opposite way we came. Eventually we reached a gap in the sprawling curtains and behind was a door leading into a corridor. We entered quickly, running and laughing until we reached a set of doors at the far end. Ethan tried the handle of the first, marked Private, but it was locked. The second had a bar running across the width, a fire exit. He pushed it and it opened out into a dimly-lit space, the deafening noise of splashing, splattering water invading our ears.
Rain.
We looked out into the blustery downpour and found a tiny courtyard, the space not more than eight feet square. Surrounded by tremendously high walls on three sides, the fourth led up a long flight of stone steps, the back exit from the basement to the street. About five steps up was an iron gate, closed and padlocked. The only light shone from the luminous fire exit sign above the door.
My eyes completed the scanning of the area and came to rest on deep, dark blue pools of desire. Ethan’s breathing was raspy and raw, his lips full and blood red from the lust coursing through his veins.
“I want you,” his words were a primal demand.
I pressed my palms against his chest and pushed him out into the torrential rain, following quickly and slamming the door behind me. The rain hammered against us, soaking us to the skin in seconds, the freezing cold shock on heated flesh only adding to the thrill of the moment.
Our mouths crashed together, our tongues plunging and licking as we laughed, gasped and panted through our passion and delight. Ethan cupped my ass, gathering me into his embrace, and as I wrapped my legs around him, he staggered forward, smashing my back up against the door. We fumbled with each other’s garments, me wrenching his shirt free from his pants and dragging it over his head, Ethan opting to shove my blouse and bra up out of the way to gain access to my soaking breasts.
I pressed my head against the door, my hands fisting wildly into his hair as he feasted on my neck, his lips and hands hastily seeking my swollen breasts, sucking and nibbling my nipples and kneading with his fingers. My skirt was shoved high around my waist, Ethan’s hips the only thing keeping me up against the door.
“Look what you drive me to, Angel.” His voice was a raw guttural grate. “You make me so fucking crazy. Ever since the first night we met, you’ve driven me crazy. Why? Why do you drive me mad with jealousy?”
“To keep it even, baby. And so that you’ll never stop wanting this—wanting me.”
“I’d die before I stop wanting you.”
“Only me?” I needed to hear it.
“Only you, baby.”
Pushing away from the wall, he cupped my ass for support and moved to the steps, placing me down halfway up to the iron gate. He knelt in front of me on a lower step, shoving my skirt up to my waist, his hands on the inside of my knees prying my legs apart. The act urged me to reach back to support myself, to present my body to him like an offering or a sacrifice, spread wide for his appreciation. Suddenly, he pushed to his feet, leaving me breathless and wanting, my pussy pulsing with the need for his touch, the need to be filled. He stood gazing down at me as the rain battered against my near-naked body, my breasts and sex exposed, spread wide, and on display.
“Jesus Christ,” he rasped. “You have no clue how fucking hot you look right now. Your pussy is pink and pulsing for me, baby.”
He stood there before me, brazen and sexy as hell, every sleek contour, dip and curve of his perfectly-sculpted torso defined and glistening in the drenching rain. He truly was a god. My god, and I wanted him more urgently than I needed my next breath.
“Fuck me, Ethan. I need you inside me so bad.” I almost shouted the plea above the deafening sound of the persistent driving rain.
Without pause, his hands moved to free himself from the confines of his pants, releasing the buckle of his belt and reaching in to grab his twitching, bulging cock. He held it in the palm of his hand and began to caress the shaft in long, sweeping strokes. The sight of his skillful hands playing with himself in front of me, combined with the look of pure animalistic, lewd desire written all over his startlingly sexy face was almost too much to bear.
Squirming with need for him, my hands reached to stroke down my inner thighs, physically spreading my legs in shameless invitation. He moved, swooping down on the step, his head burrowing between my legs and his mouth closing urgently over my sex. I screamed out in complete ecstasy as his tongue delved inside, lapping and licking, his hand reaching up to grasp and knead my aching breast. My body arched in unrestrained, helpless yearning, the muscles of my abdomen undulating, my breasts sitting pert and mountainous, jutting proudly toward the tumultuous sky.
“Fuck me, Ethan,” I begged him again.
Shifting, his powerful body rose up above me as he guided his heaving, jerking cock toward my sodden entrance. Within seconds he was plunging inside me, hard and deep. I cried out at the shock of the invasion, my eyes wide, mouth open as I gasped for air, every inch of him spreading and filling me to capacity. He gripped the steps for leverage as he pounded into me with untamable ferocity. My back ground into the stone steps painfully, but I didn’t care; it only seemed to exacerbate the incredible sensations that were careening through my body like a wild, unapologetic hurricane.
The unrelenting rain continued its brutal assault on our hot, unified bodies as we writhed together, climbing toward blissful release. Suddenly, a bright white spark flashed across the sky, illuminating our wet, glistening skin and accentuating the pure, glowing blend of ecstasy and love on Ethan’s face. The vision was my undoing and as my orgasm struck, so, too, did the explosive, resounding sound of thunder as it crashed angrily overhead.
Ethan continued to hammer into me, driving the swell of my climax through every cell of my body, until it exploded as violently as the thunder in the sky, rolling on and on and on. The muscles of my sex tightened, clenching around his cock and sparking his release. He roared with wild, desirous pleasure as he followed, spurting the hot, thick cream of his seed deep inside me. He rocked gently backwards and forwards, each stroke easing our pounding hearts and erratic breathing back to an even rhythm.
The tremors of our orgasms abated, withdrawing into the night along with the quivering vibrations of the thunder, and finally the rain slowed to steady shower. Ethan reached up to smooth my sodden hair from my face, leaning in to kiss me tenderly on my swollen lips.
“I love you so much, Cinders.”
“And I you, my devastatingly handsome, Prince Charming.”
His mouth stretched into a smug, sated grin, which dissolved swiftly into concern the second I began to shiver. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I thinking? You’re going to catch your death.” He stood quickly, pulling me with him and reorganizing my saturated clothes to conceal my nudity, untying the knot in my shirt and smoothing it down over my exposed skin. Although I was cold and wet already, the contact from the soaking material stole my breath once again and my teeth began to chatter. “Oh fuck, you’re going to get sick and it will be my fault. Come on, we need to get you home.”
“Wait,” I pulled back on his arm. “Firstly, I’m not sick, and if I was, it would be my fault, not yours. And secondly…” I glanced down with a grin on my face “…you might want to put that away before we go back inside.”
Ethan followed my gaze. “Oh shit.” He tucked himself away and fastened his zipper. “Finally, I understand the term ‘freezing your cock off.’ It’s so fucking cold, I’ve lost all feeling in it.”
We both laughed, turning toward the door and the promise of warmth inside. Our smiles vanished along with our breath as we turned to one another in horror. The door was locked and there was no handle to open it.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Ethan glanced toward the gate, our only other means of getting out of there, the giant secured padlock mocking us from its hanging place. “What’s the point of an escape route if you can’t fucking escape?” His eyes scooted up to the pointed spikes at the top, as if examining the possibility of scaling it.
“I ho
pe you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, Wilde. That thing must be nearly eight feet high. I can barely feel my hands; I’m wearing high heels and no freaking panties.”
“Okay, okay, the gates a no-go, I hear you.” He paused, delving into his pocket and retrieving his cell.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he tapped the screen and held it up to his ear.
“The only thing left I can do.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Damon? It’s me… long story, dude. Listen. Can you do me a massive favor?”
A few minutes later, the door was opened and we rushed inside gratefully. Damon gawked open mouthed at our drenched, disheveled state. “You two are a pair of crazy motherfuckers.”
I ran my fingers through my hair to squeeze the water to the ends, my teeth chattering almost uncontrollably. “We were just… um—”
“No worries,” Damon interrupted. “I can guess. But why you guys can’t just get a fucking room like—” His gaze slid to my shirt, my erect nipples and lace bra clearly visible through the soaking, sheer material plastered to my skin.
Ethan’s arm flew up instinctively to wrap around my chest. “Fuck, dude, give her your goddamn jacket.”
Damon started to laugh and shrugged out of his blazer, holding it open for me to turn into. “Sorry, Bro, I’m just a red-blooded man doing what a red-blooded man does.”
Ethan snatched the jacket with a look of fury on his face and draped it around my shoulders. “Well, be red-blooded with someone else’s woman. It’s thanks to you dick-wielding bastards that we’re out there in the first place. If you all kept your eyes and hands to yourself, I wouldn’t—”
Ethan halted when he noticed me holding on to my sides in an attempt to stifle the fit of laughter which was bursting to escape. Unable to hold it in any longer, I began to laugh hysterically. Damon joined in instantly, followed, soon after, by Ethan himself.