LOGINArc 11: The Massage TableI roll my hips and he grabs me so hard I'll have bruises.Good. I want the bruises. I want to sit down tomorrow and feel exactly where his hands were.The stool is the perfect height, my feet flat on either side of him, thighs spread wide, and I ride him slow and deep, every downstroke taking him completely, every upstroke dragging him through every place inside me that matters. His cock reaches deep in this position, deeper than the table would have allowed, and every time I sink down his jaw tightens and his hips push up to meet me."You feel incredible," he grits out. "Katya, your pussy feels so...""Tell me," I breathe, riding him. "Tell me how it feels.""Tight," he says roughly. "So tight and so wet and so warm and so delicious, you're gripping me so hard...""Because you feel that good," I gasp. "Because your cock is..." I sink down hard and we both make sounds. "You fill me so perfectly..." He grabs my hips and pulls me down onto him hard and I cry o
He pulls the stool to the end of the table and sits and hooks both my legs over his shoulders and looks at my pussy like it's something he's been wanting since I walked through the door and maybe he has.His hands are still oiled.He runs them up my inner thighs slowly, both thumbs tracing the crease where my thighs meet my core, and the warm slick pressure so close to where I need it makes my hips roll up chasing it."Please," I breathe."Please what?" His thumbs sweep closer. Not touching. Almost."Touch me," I say. "Mikhail, touch my pussy, please..."He parts me with both thumbs and looks at me open and glistening under the warm treatment room light and makes a sound low in his throat that goes directly into my bloodstream."Beautiful," he says quietly. Like it's not even for me. Like he's just saying what he sees.Then he lowers his head and licks through me slowly from bottom to top and my back arches completely off the table."Oh!" Both hands fly to his hair. "Oh God, yes..."H
Chapter 25: She Climbed Into My Lap In Traffic And Rode Me Like We Weren't On A Public Highway**---Forty-five minutes in gridlock and Priya has been squirming in the passenger seat for thirty of them.I notice everything. The way she keeps shifting her weight. The way her thighs press together and release. The way she stopped pretending to look at her phone twenty minutes ago and started looking at my hands on the steering wheel instead.We had a fight this morning. A bad one. The kind with raised voices and slammed doors and things said that sit in the chest like splinters. We made up in the parking lot before we got in the car, the way we always do, fast and incomplete, tension still humming underneath the apology like a live wire.The traffic hasn't moved in eight minutes."Priya," I say."Mm." She's looking at my hands again."Stop looking at me like that.""Like what?" She turns to face me and her skirt has ridden up her thighs and she doesn't fix it."Like you want to start so
Priya's POV He finds a layby two miles up.Pulls in hard, engine still running, and before I've fully processed that we've stopped he's opened his door and pulled me out with him and walked me around to the front of the car and bent me over the bonnet.The metal is warm from the engine.It's started raining.I don't care even slightly."Aarav," I breathe."You started this," he says against the back of my neck. His hands push my skirt up over my hips and he looks at me bare from behind in the rain and makes a low hungry sound. "Look at you." His hand slides through me from behind, two fingers pushing straight inside me, finding me still slick and clenching from the orgasm I just had in his lap. "Still dripping.""I just came on your cock in moving traffic," I say. "What do you expect?""I expect," he says, curling his fingers and making my hips buck, "to return the favor properly." He pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, pushing inside me from behind in one long stro
Arc 10: GridlockAarav's POV Forty-five minutes in gridlock and Priya has been squirming in the passenger seat for thirty of them.I notice everything. The way she keeps shifting her weight. The way her thighs press together and release. The way she stopped pretending to look at her phone twenty minutes ago and started looking at my hands on the steering wheel instead.We had a fight this morning. A bad one. The kind with raised voices and slammed doors and things said that sit in the chest like splinters. We made up in the parking lot before we got in the car, the way we always do, fast and incomplete, tension still humming underneath the apology like a live wire.The traffic hasn't moved in eight minutes."Priya," I say."Mm." She's looking at my hands again."Stop looking at me like that.""Like what?" She turns to face me and her skirt has ridden up her thighs and she doesn't fix it."Like you want to start something in the middle of the M25."She unbuckles her seatbelt.I grab he
Bianca makes eggs in the morning.Humming. Cheerful. Hair up, robe on, completely and beautifully oblivious, and she puts a plate in front of Marco and a plate in front of me and sits across from us both and talks about the plans she has for the day, the market, the thing she wants to do with the garden, the dinner she's thinking about making.I eat my eggs.Marco drinks his coffee.His eyes find mine over the rim of his mug once. Just once. Dark and certain and carrying everything from last night in a single look, and I feel it between my thighs immediately, a pulse, a reminder, and I look back at my plate and focus very hard on my eggs."You sleep okay?" Bianca asks me."Eventually," I say. Completely true."The guest bed is terrible," she says, shaking her head at Marco. "I keep saying we need a new mattress.""It's fine," I say. "Really."Marco says nothing. Drinks his coffee. His foot finds mine under the table. Just rests there. Not moving. Just contact.I don't move mine away.







