After Josh leaves to take pictures, I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, breathing hard.
I look like a mess. My quickie with Josh did nothing to stop the heat burning through my veins. If anything, I feel even worse than before. My thin dress is sticking to my skin with sweat, and my nerves feel like they’re on fire. And the beads…
I can feel them inside me. They’re not annoying — just a heavy pressure, a deep fullness that’s just gotten worse since Josh made me come. No matter how much I shift my weight to try and get comfortable, I can feel them pressing into me.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. Classical music plays over hidden speakers, soothing me slightly as I pin back the curls that Josh tugged loose. As I lean over to pump some hand cream from the dispenser, the beads shift again, sliding over one another and sending a hot pulse of pleasure through me.
I gape, grabbing onto the side of the counter and crossing my legs tight as blood rushes between my thighs.
I can’t do this. I can’t go back to the party and smile and mingle with something inside me, no matter how good it feels. I’ll go mad. I need to get back to the hotel room and take them out. Maybe leave them on Zack’s pillow as a present.
Taking a deep breath, I scoop some cold water into my hand and wipe it over the back of my sweaty neck. When I’m as cool as I’m going to get, I straighten, dab myself off, and head back into the hallway. I barely get two steps down the corridor before a low voice calls my name.
“Layla.”
I turn, jumping as Zack barrels down the narrow hall towards me. He looks… off. His collar is undone, his tie is lopsided, and his eyes are red. His ring is hanging from the chain around his neck, swaying slightly. He catches up with me and grabs at me, pulling me close, his fingers curling into my forearms. He’s breathing hard.
“Zack,” I say softly. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Fine,” he grits out.
“Did something happen? Why did you go?”
He grimaces. “Sorry. Knee was hurting.”
Concern tugs at me. “D’you wanna go back to the room?”
“‘M better now,” he says, grabbing my hand. “Come with me.” He starts tugging me down the hall. I follow, bemused, as he drags me towards the fire exit, pushing the door open and leading me out into the hotel’s sprawling gardens.
It’s getting late now, and the sky is darkening to a deep twilight-blue over our heads. Zack leads me through the garden, pulling me through rows of perfectly manicured hedges and bushes, heavy with glossy leaves and aromatic flowers. Birds sing pretty, fluting tunes in the trees above us. Someone has set up fairy-lights in the foliage, and they twinkle down on us as we make our way through the grounds.
I look up at Zack. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are fiery. I’m not sure what’s going on. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere private,” he mutters, tightening his grip on my fingers.
I dig my heels into the perfectly mown grass. “I don’t like getting dragged around,” I warn.
“You’ll like what comes after,” he promises flatly, pulling me behind a large, heart-shaped topiary, into a little alcove hidden by strands of hanging ivy.
I look around. He’s brought me to a sweet little private spot; a secret nook against the garden wall, shadowed by bushes and greenery. A single glass lantern swings over our heads, illuminating us.
I’m impressed. Even if someone did come wandering out into the garden, I doubt they’d be able to find us back here.
“Are we getting it on?” I check.
“Yeah,” he says, and presses me up against the wall, tugging up the silky hem of my dress without preamble.
Thank God.
My head falls back against the cool mossy brick as he crashes our mouths together. It’s a dirty kiss, full of biting and nipping, and after Josh’s gentlemanly sweetness, it’s just what I need. The cool evening disappears into a hot red haze as our skin slides together, our mouths rolling against one another.
Zack’s hand slips up my smooth thigh, cupping my crotch. “Shit. Where’d your pants go?” He mutters against my cheek.
“Josh has them.”
“Little wanker,” he mutters, slipping his thick fingers through my hot, sopping folds. “God, you’re soaked. You still got the beads in?”
I nod breathlessly, pushing my head against his shoulder and squirming over his hand. He gives a low grumble of approval, biting my bottom lip and dragging it between his teeth as he dips his fingers into me, delicately scooping out the first fat silver ball. As he tugs at it, the whole string moves deep inside me. I gasp, digging my fingernails into his arms as he slowly starts to pull the chain loose. Hot, smooth metal slides over my G spot, stimulating the sensitive nerves. I’ve been so on edge for so long, even that small touch is enough to set me off. I feel my toes curl and my thighs tense as I shudder with a sudden sharp climax.
“Good girl,” he roughs out as I pant, twisting his wrist so I can grind up against his palm. “Good, good girl.”
Heat starbursts in my belly as I rub helplessly against his hand, thrusting to get the friction I need as he gently pulls the balls out, one by one. Eventually, I’m half-collapsed against the wall, sweating and huffing, and he has the full string of beads curled between his fingers. I gape as he puts them, dripping, into the pocket of his suit. “I’ll wash ‘em later,” he says with a shrug, wrapping his forearm around my waist and hoisting me up against the wall. I naturally clap my legs together, but he grabs both of my thighs and pulls them apart, lifting them to wrap around his waist. “Open.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snap, fumbling at the zip of his dress trousers. It takes half a second for him to pull his throbbing erection free, line up, and thrust inside of me. I swallow back a cry of pleasure as he plunges into me.
Oh. God. That’s good. That’s right. That’s what I needed. For the first time today, I feel my entire body relax. It’s like an itch deep in my core is finally getting scratched.
He groans, pressing his rough cheek against mine as he holds still for a second, letting me get used to the sensation. “Good?”
I nod, and he pulls his hips back, slamming into me. My mouth falls open as he does it again. Again. Again. Again. He pounds me, hot and sloppy, shivers wracking his body with every thrust. His eyes are squeezed closed, like he can’t bear to look at me. I watch him blearily as pleasure rushes through me.
This isn’t how I’m used to Zack being. Normally, he likes to tease me. To drive me crazy with his mouth and his fingers, until I’m practically begging for him. But now, it’s like he’s in a frenzy. His free hand fists in my hair, tugging through it, teasing through my carefully styled curls.
“If I cared about my hair,” I pant, “you’d be in so much trouble right now.”
He doesn’t say anything, plunging into me again. My body spasms as electricity arcs through me, and I clench my thighs around his waist, using my legs to pull him closer into me. I need him closer. I need every part of us to be touching. I need him inside me. My sex is so sensitive and achy it’s almost painful. I grind against him, desperate for pressure despite the soreness. I can’t help it. I need the touch. I’m sopping wet and slowly getting more and more frantic as the pressure builds inside me.
“God,” I murmur. “Please. Please, please.”
“Please what?” He rolls his hips, hitting a sensitive spot. Wetness trickles down my thighs, and I bite back a soft noise, jerking my hips furiously against his. I’m so close.
“More,” I gasp, and he quickly obliges. Yanking down the neckline of my dress, he starts massaging my breasts. I buck, echoes of pleasure thrumming through me and squeezing my insides, and he growls, dipping his head and tugging one hardening bud into his mouth with a harsh pop. His hot wet tongue laves over the sensitive skin, and I shudder all over. The cold night air washes over my breast, sending my skin prickling.
And still, it’s not enough. I reach down between us, sliding my hand over my stomach. He grabs it, pressing it against the wall.
“No,” he growls.
“If you don’t want to touch me, I will.”
He leans forward and licks a hot line down the side of my neck, freeing my wrist and bringing his own hand between my legs as he screws me. I gasp, my body jerking as his calloused finger curls around my sweet spot.
“Oh. God. Zack.” I let my head tip back against the wall. “Zack.”
His hips stutter against mine. “Don’t,” he mutters. “Don’t say my name.”
I bite his ear, hard enough to make him flinch. “I’ll say whatever I damn well please.” I bite him again, pressing my teeth hard into his earlobe.
He groans, tucking his face into the crook of my neck.
“You’re so…” he trails off.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I am.”
His grip on me tightens. He slams into me again and again, railing me so hard white stars flash behind my eyes, pleasure shaking my body like a rag doll. I’m so distracted, it takes me a few seconds to realise that there’s warm wetness touching my neck.
Is he crying?
“Zack.” I pull back, my vision hazy. “Hey. Hey. Are you okay?” He nods into my neck.
“Look at me,” I demand, but he doesn’t. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves. His muscles are bunched and hard. He thrusts into me again, and I gasp, twisting. I can feel my release cresting up inside me, like a wave about to swallow me whole. “Zack. God. I’m going to…”
He presses his forehead against mine and seals our mouths together with a kiss, swallowing my cries as the pressure peaks and I fly over the edge.
This time, the climax isn’t fast or sharp. It’s soft and intoxicating, a rush of warmth that gets hotter and stronger as it rolls through me. I moan as the garden disappears around me, the stars and the moonlight and the soft glow of the lantern blurring into streaks of light that burn behind my eyes. Heat slips under my skin, sliding through my veins and burning in my stomach.
“God,” Zack mutters, pressing even closer. His massive body shudders over mine as he starts to come. Normally, he’s as loud as a bear when he’s getting off; but now he’s staying completely silent, his teeth clenched shut like he’s trying to fight the pleasure away. I cling to him, sighing, feeling our bodies shake together in the darkening garden.
Eventually, the feeling seeps away, but I don’t let Zack go. Slowly, he sets me back onto the ground, holding me upright as my heels sink slightly into the wet grass. I lean against him, catching my breath. My heart is fluttering in my chest.
What we just did shouldn’t be romantic. There’s nothing poetic about an illicit shag behind a building. But somehow, it is. I stroke my fingers through Zack’s hair, watching how the glass lantern strokes his skin in gold. He looks beautiful out here, unravelled and out of breath. Tipping my head up, I press my lips to his, breathing in his soft exhale.
“I love you,” I murmur. I don’t think before I say it. The words just slip out, easy as breathing.
Zack flinches. He pulls back, and I finally see his eyes. They’re bloodshot and puffy.
My stomach drops. I didn’t imagine it. He really was crying. Something’s wrong. Is it his leg? Did I hurt him? I reach for him, cupping his jaw. “Zack—”
He lurches out of my grip and pulls his dress pants back up, securing the button. He’s breathing hard.
I smooth down the skirt of my dress and wipe gloss off my cheek, watching him closely. “Maybe we should go back to the room,” I say softly.
He swallows convulsively and shakes his head. “I can’t do this anymore,” he says, his voice like gravel.
Cold slips down my spine. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he isn’t just talking about the wedding.
“You can’t do what anymore?” I ask carefully.
He waves between us, not meeting my eyes. “This. The lessons. The… ‘dating’. The kissing, and the shagging, and the fake couple bullshit. We can’t do this anymore. I’m done. I’m done.”
