Page 153 of Yearn
I moved.
She arched.
The air changed—hotter, thicker.
“Oh.” Her breath hitched. “W-wait. . .s-top.”
“Can’t.” The word came out rough. “This pussy is too good.”
Scott’s knock came again, dull and distant, and we both froze for a few seconds, and then I thrust into her harder, faster.
Her thigh trembled against my hip.
Everything slowed to just breath, heat, and heartbeats.
Then, a sound cut through the dark—metal brushing metal.
What the fuck is he doing now?
I looked up.
The knob.
It moved.
Just a fraction.
I froze.
Is he trying to come inside? Does he still have a key to this door?
The air went thin.
Weightless.
Her breath stopped against my throat, and in that pause I heard everything—the quick tick of my kitchen clock, the faint hum of the heating system in the walls, my pulse stuttering like a broken metronome.
Another click.
The handle trembled again, testing the latch.
“No.” Her body trembled and she moved her hands to my chest. “Get up.”
My cock was lodged inside of her pussy and my head held no more logic. “Do you really want me to stop?”
She widened her eyes. “Yes. . .”
“You don’t. You love how this feels.”
“He’s outside.”
“Fuck him.”
“Get up.”
Scott knocked again.
Flat.
