Elevator Trap: Chapter 3 

ELENA

The air in the elevator felt like it was shrinking around us.

Every second that passed made it harder to breathe. Harder to think. Harder to pretend I wasn’t losing my mind.

Marcus stood only two feet away from me now, watching me like a predator who had finally cornered its prey. His broad chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths. The thick, heavy outline of his cock strained obscenely against his slacks so obvious, so big. I couldn’t stop staring. My pussy was throbbing so hard it hurt, clenching around nothing while fresh wetness kept soaking through my already ruined thong.

This is insane. We’re strangers. We’ve barely spoken. I shouldn’t want this.

But I did. God, I wanted it so badly I was shaking.

“Elena,” he said again, my name sounding like pure sin on his tongue. “You’re trembling.”

I was. My knees felt weak. My nipples ached. My clit was swollen and pulsing with every heartbeat. I pressed my back harder against the cold mirror, trying to ground myself, but it only made my blouse pull tighter across my breasts. I knew he could see everything.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “We shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t what?” He took one slow step closer. “Shouldn’t admit that you’ve been dripping for me for months? Shouldn’t admit that your tight little pussy is aching right now?”

His words hit me like a slap. Filthy. Direct. And so accurate it made me whimper out loud.

Marcus’s eyes darkened. “Tell me to stop. Say it right now and I’ll back off.”

I opened my mouth… but nothing came out.

Because I didn’t want him to stop.

The silence stretched. My heart hammered wildly. I could smell my own arousal mixing with his masculine scent. It was humiliating. It was intoxicating.

Marcus took another step. Now he was right in front of me, towering over me, so close I could feel the heat rolling off his body. His hand came up slowly, giving me every chance to pull away. When I didn’t, his large palm cupped my jaw, thumb brushing my lower lip.

“So fucking soft,” he murmured, almost to himself.

My lips parted on a shaky breath. His thumb slipped inside, just a little, pressing against my tongue. I tasted salt and skin. Instinctively, I closed my lips around it and sucked gently.

Marcus groaned. A deep, guttural sound that vibrated straight to my core.

“Fuck, Elena…” His other hand slammed against the mirror beside my head, caging me in. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

I was burning. My entire body felt like liquid fire. My pussy was so wet I could feel it trickling down my inner thigh now. No more pretending. No more hiding.

Marcus pulled his thumb from my mouth and replaced it with his lips.

The kiss was not gentle.

It was starving.

His mouth crashed into mine, hot and demanding. His tongue pushed past my lips, stroking mine with filthy, possessive licks. He tasted like mint and pure male hunger. I moaned into his mouth, my hands finally moving grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He groaned again and pressed his massive body against me. I could feel his thick, rock-hard cock grinding against my stomach. So big. So heavy. The pressure made my eyes roll back.

Marcus broke the kiss just enough to growl against my lips, “Tell me you want this.”

“I want it,” I gasped, voice broken. “Please… I’ve wanted you for so long.”

That was all it took.

His hand slid down my body, rough and greedy, cupping my breast and squeezing hard enough to make me cry out. His thumb flicked over my stiff nipple through my blouse. Then lower. His palm skimmed down my skirt, bunching the fabric up around my hips in one swift motion.

“Fuck…” he breathed when his fingers found my soaked thighs. “You’re dripping down your legs, baby.”

I whimpered in shame and arousal as two thick fingers pushed my ruined thong aside and slid through my slippery folds.

“So fucking wet,” he growled, circling my swollen clit. “This pretty pussy is weeping for me.”

I cried out, hips jerking against his hand. The pleasure was sharp and overwhelming. My legs shook violently. Marcus held me up with his body, one hand still braced beside my head, the other working between my thighs with devastating skill.

He pushed one thick finger inside me.

Then two.

“Oh my God—” I moaned loudly, head falling back against the mirror. The stretch was perfect. His fingers were so much bigger than mine, curling and stroking that sensitive spot inside me while his thumb kept rubbing my clit in tight, fast circles.

“You’re so tight,” he rasped against my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “I can’t wait to feel this greedy cunt squeezing my cock.”

I was going to come. Already. Just from his fingers.

My walls fluttered and clenched around him. My breathing turned into desperate sobs. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into my soaked pussy filled the elevator.

“Marcus— I’m— I’m gonna—”

“Come,” he commanded, biting my neck. “Come on my fingers like a good girl.”

The orgasm hit me like a freight train.

I screamed his name, body convulsing, pussy gushing around his thick fingers. My thighs shook uncontrollably. Stars exploded behind my eyes. Wave after wave of blinding pleasure crashed through me as he kept fingering me through it, drawing it out until I was a trembling, whimpering mess.

When I finally came down, Marcus pulled his fingers out slowly and brought them to his mouth, sucking my juices off with a low, satisfied groan.

His eyes burned into mine, dark with raw hunger.

“That was just the beginning,” he said, voice rough. “I’m nowhere near done with you tonight.”

My pussy clenched again at his words.