Page 124 of Best Served Cold

“Okay?” I asked when he made an impatient sound.

“Yeah. Just…need more.”

“Relax for me.” I added a little pressure to his neck. Not enough to affect his air, just enough that I pressed down on his veins and gently restricted the blood flow.

“Oh god,” he moaned and dropped his head back. I pressed our temples together and squeezed his neck the slightest bit tighter.

“Like that?”

“Yeah. Fuck.” He rocked his hips. “More.”

His eyes were closed, and his voice was pleasure-drunk.

He was perfect.

Keeping my grip on his neck, I slowly worked him with my finger, teasing his prostate with every measured thrust.

“More.” He bumped his hips back. “Two.”

I slipped a second one inside him, groaning with him at how tight he was.

“Jerk yourself, but no coming.”

He grasped his cock and stroked, rocking his hips in time with his hand as I gently opened him up.

I had big fingers, but I also had a big dick. He’d need three to take me comfortably.

“Can you take another?”

A shout, followed by ruckus laughter, filtered through the door. Someone pushed on it, but with our weight against it, the thing barely moved.

“Who’s in there?” someone shouted, their voice shrill with glee.

The door rattled under us. Were they trying to get in?

“How does it feel to have my fingers in you while everyone is right outside?” I purred in his ear, making sure to keep my voice low so no one but him could hear me. “Knowing they’re right there on the other side.”

“Ugngh.” He clenched around my fingers.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hello.” A woman drunkenly giggled. “Who’s in there?”

“Do you want to stop?” I checked, breaking the role-play again. The possibility of being caught was hot, but the interruptions were annoying.

“No.” He reached behind him and grasped my dick by the base. “Don’t give a fuck who hears us. Want it. Want you.”

“Jesus,” I snarled and sank my teeth into his neck to keep quiet.

He fumbled with my dick, bumping it against my hand impatiently. “Now.”

“Helllooooooo.” The door rattled again. “Who’s getting lucky in there?”

“Come on, share with the rest of the class!” someone else shouted.

“How invested are you in keeping this quiet?” Zane asked in a hoarse whisper. I released my hold on his throat so he could think, and talk, easier.

“Not invested at all,” I said, remembering the crowds we’d walked by to get here. No way this was staying a secret.

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