Page 178 of By A Thread
I was living out a dark fantasy that had wreaked havoc on my imagination ever since that night I found him in the washroom. This was what I’d wanted then.
“Ally.” He groaned, low and guttural, sliding the head of his cock through my folds.
He came.
Hard.
I felt the first hot burst of it up against my clit, and then he was fucking his way between my ass cheeks, ending at that greedy bundle of nerves. Once, twice, and out of nowhere, my own impossible orgasm took me hostage.
He kept right on nudging my clitoris, kept right on coming. Branding me from front to back with his seed.
Whatever didn’t get soaked up by my underwear, coated my slit, dampened my thighs.
“Baby,” he said, and I felt the final volley of his orgasm explode against that tight ring of muscle between my cheeks.
It was dirty, hedonistic, and downright wrong. I freaking loved it.
“I couldn’t wait,” he panted, making no move to pull back from me. His dick was wedged between my thighs, and he was still making tiny, gentle thrusts.
“Me neither.”
* * *
This was a new,interesting version of the walk of shame for me. Returning to friends we’d abandoned mere minutes ago with dirty, sweaty lust written all over our faces. Even the historically and heroically unreadable Dominic couldn’t hide his smile.
Conversation came to a screeching halt when we returned to our group. Someone had ordered a few bottles of wine, and everyone paused mid-sample to stare at us.
“I told you you should have let me come back down first,” I whispered out of the side of my mouth.
“Baby, not on your life. You’re not getting five steps from me before I make you come again,” he intoned back.
“How was the bathroom?” Harry asked with a knowing grin.
“Ally, what are you planning for Dominic’s birthday next month?” Delaney asked, listing dangerously to the left on her barstool. “Have you convinced him to have a party?”
“Your birthday!” I turned to him, visions of birthday cakes dancing in my head.
“No. Absolutely not,” he said emphatically.
“No what?”
“No birthday.”
“Russo here is afraid of getting old,” his friend Kevin chimed in.
“But he just keeps getting better looking,” Missie said, the wine loosening her tongue a bit. “If I were him, I’d be celebrating every year as a sexy milestone.”
“How long were we up there? They’re all shitfaced,” I whispered to Dominic.
“Delaney, I’ve been meaning to ask you where you got your bed linens,” Dominic said.
Harry shot him a dirty look as Delaney’s hands fluttered to her chest. “I found the most amazing duvets and sheets,” she began.
“Middle finger gif,” Harry coughed into his hand.
58
Dominic
