Mia
He’s gone wild—and I love it. Unhinged and free Garrett is my favorite version of him. After relieving him of the pressure on his prostate and reaching up to undo the Velcro straps holding him against the wall, I feel his feral gaze on me. It’s a little like unleashing a wild animal.
The moment he’s free, I’m hoisted off the floor, his arms under my legs as I land hard against the platform bed.
“You’re gonna pay for that, Kitten.” Then he dives head first between my legs, the soft skin of his freshly-shaven face against my sex. I let out a loud cry of pleasure as he licks and sucks on every inch of me, rounding his lips on my clit and sucking so hard, I stop breathing. Coming up for air, he stares at me with a hungry gaze. “Now, purr for me.”
And he’s back to devouring me like he can’t make me come fast enough. And I need it. The act of tying him up, sucking him off, and seeing just how crazy that little backdoor play made him, I’m more turned on and ready to explode than I’ve ever been in my life.
Not to mention the added effect of dramatic lighting, sexy beats, and the horny watchful eyes in the crowd…I think I died and went to sex heaven.
My fingers dig into his hair as my climax teases me, nearly cresting three times, only to evade me at the last moment. I glance up at him each time that he eases up, wondering why he’s teasing me so much. I guess I already know. I teased him pretty mercilessly when he was strapped to the wall, so I should have seen this coming. I guess it’s only fair.
“Garrett, please,” I beg when he takes his mouth away again.
“What’s wrong? Am I torturing you?”
“Just make me come,” I plead.
“I’m drawing this out for as long as I can because as soon as I’m done, you’re taking my cum again.”
Oh, God. My toes curl and my spine tingles just from the sexy, enticing filth of his words.
He’s pushed me so far, my head is hanging off the edge of the bed as we continue to slowly rotate, giving the audience a three-sixty view of him eating me out like his lips were made for my pussy.
Finally, he plunges two fingers in, curling them at just the right angle that they finally send me flying. My thighs squeeze hard around him, practically levitating off the bed as I come. Pleasure igniting through every inch of my body, from my head down to my toes. His growl vibrates through me, but he doesn’t let up.
I hope he doesn’t try to get another one out of me right away like he did that day. I didn’t even know orgasms could be a form of torture until Garrett tried wringing them out of me one after the other.
But when I glance up at him, I see that he has very quickly recovered from his own orgasm and is currently at full mast again, slowly stroking himself as he prowls toward me. Grabbing my legs, he jerks me to the edge of the bed. He’s standing on the rotating platform as he impales me abruptly on his cock.
Still sensitive in my post-orgasm state, everything is so intense and satisfying. Hooking my legs over his forearms, he pounds into me.
Our gazes are locked as we collide, but when the sensation gets so good, I feel my toes curling again, my eyes drift close and my head hangs backward. Suddenly, he stops thrusting.
My eyes pop open, and I stare at him in confusion.
“When you look away, I stop.”
I bite my lip and keep eye contact with him as he starts moving again, slamming harder and harder until it becomes almost impossible to keep my eyes from closing. I’ve completely forgotten about the crowd and the stage and all of the reasons why I’m mad at him. I’m not saying I’ve forgiven him already, but the things he did wrong don’t exist at this moment. There’s just him and me, and the intensity between us.
“Touch yourself,” he mutters breathlessly, and I know he’s close. “Come with me, Kitten.”
Reaching down, I strum at my clit, already so sensitive and at the precipice, so it doesn’t take much before I’m trembling through another orgasm. He’s slamming in slower, his thrusts less controlled now, his cock jerking inside me as he comes. I am consumed by him, not quite knowing where his pleasure ends and mine begins. And through more than just our eye contact, we feel so entirely unified that my heart throbs with this reminder that there is another heart out there that beats as one with mine.
Garrett and I aren’t alike or compatible or kindred spirits—we are one. It’s why the boundaries in our relationship were so confusing. Because I never hated him, and he never hated me, but the fire burned between us regardless. It was easier to pretend we were nothing more than stepsiblings when we didn’t know how to label what this thing between us was. Now, we know it’s love, and it was always meant to be.
His chest is heaving as he begins to slump, dropping my legs and climbing over me, so his body is a warm layer covering me. Then, he kisses me. It’s a soft, tender movement of lips and tongues.
Suddenly, the light above us goes out, and we are bathed in darkness. It’s instantly cooler and all the chatter from the crowd comes back, reminding me that we just fucked like crazy in front of what looks like a hundred people.
My legs are wobbling under me as I walk out of the bathroom behind the stage. I’m cleaned up and in fresh clothes, and suddenly, it makes sense to me why Salacious has locker room style bathrooms with showers and dressing rooms. Sex is a workout.
The crowd has dwindled and most of the rooms are empty now, and I’m surprised to see it’s almost three in the morning. My eyes feel instantly heavy at that realization. When I find Garrett by the bar, he’s with the rest of the owners and their girlfriends.
When I spot the tall blond, real Drake, I awkwardly avoid his eye contact. It’s just another reminder of what this month has been like, something I don’t need at the moment.
“There she is!” Charlie announces as she slings an arm around my shoulder. “You were freaking amazing.” I like Charlie. She’s the right mix of crass and classy, and she never fails to make me laugh. And being here this week with her and Eden has me thinking that I might have actually found a group of female friends that don’t treat me like competition or are bitter at me because I’m not a size two and still choose to dress the way I do. They just accept me, no conditions.
“Thank you,” I reply, wrapping her up in a hug.
Does it feel weird to be complimented for how well I had sex? I mean…yeah, a little. It feels like something that should feel weird, but not here.
I yawn against my will.
Garrett sees it and steps up. “Let me take you home. It’s late.”
“I drove myself here,” I argue, but as he gazes down at me, a soft, knowing expression on his face, I know what he means. He doesn’t want to drop me off at home. He wants to take me to his home.
“Your car will be safe here.”
“Okay,” I reply, and it’s not because I forgive him for that apology during sex. It’s because I want to forgive him, and in order to do that I need an apology and some answers.
We say goodbye to everyone and don’t speak much on our way to the car. Once I slide in next to him, he reaches a hand toward me, clasping our hands over the console.
“You really were beautiful up there tonight.”
“Thank you,” I reply in a whisper.
“And I meant every word. I am sorry, Mia.”
“I know you are.”
“Can we start over?” he asks, and I feel the tremble in his hands.
So I reach across and pull his face up to mine for a kiss. With our lips still touching, I reply, “Garrett, you let me stick a butt plug up your ass in front of a hundred people. The least I can do is hear you out.”
He laughs, a full grin pulling across his lips, as he kisses me back, and it warms my heart to see that smile. So much that I lean in to kiss it again.
