Page 86 of Turmoil's Target

As we exit the office, Abe’s hand finds the small of my back, guiding me through the crowded clubhouse.

Abe stops me, eyes serious. “What did she do to you?”

I swallow hard, “When she found out you were with the Reapers Rejects, she choked and slapped me. But, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough,” he murmurs.

The party is still in full swing, laughter and music filling the air.

Abe snags two beers from a passing prospect, handing one to me with a small smile.

I take a sip, letting the cold liquid soothe my nerves.

But even as we mingle with the other partygoers, I can sense Abe’s unease.

His eyes dart around the room, his body tense and coiled like a spring.

After a few minutes, he leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? I think we could both use some fresh air.”

I nod gratefully, the weight of the evening’s events suddenly heavy on my shoulders.

Abe takes my hand, his grip firm and reassuring, as he leads me through the throng of people and out into the cool desert night.

As soon as we step outside, Abe spins me around, pressing me up against the rough brick wall of the clubhouse.

His lips crash into mine, hungry and demanding.

I gasp into the kiss, my body responding instantly to his touch.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this,” he growls against my mouth, his hands roaming over my curves.

He grips my thighs, hoisting me up until my legs wrap around his waist.

I can feel his hardness pressing against me, igniting a fire deep in my core.

Our kisses turn frantic, a clash of teeth and tongues as we devour each other.

His hands slip under my dress, skimming over the lace of my underwear.

I moan, arching into his touch, desperate for more.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. “I need you, Sera. Right here, right now.”

I nod, beyond words, as he reaches between us to fumble with his belt.

The sound of his zipper is loud in the quiet night, a promise of what’s to come.

He pushes my panties aside, his fingers finding my slick folds.

I cry out, my head falling back against the wall as he strokes me.

And then he’s there, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

With one swift thrust, he’s inside me, filling me up so perfectly that tears spring to my eyes.

He stills, giving me a moment to adjust, before he starts to move.

His thrusts are hard and fast, each one hitting that spot deep inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

---