Heat of the Night

Zara

My body moved with his, hips tilting, back arching, giving him all of me.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded.

I did.

And he was staring down at me, completely in control, completely lost in the moment. His expression was carnal, possessive. But there was something else too, something unspoken behind the dominance. A flicker of restraint. As if he was holding back something even more dangerous.

He lifted one of my legs, bending it higher, and drove into me with a sharp thrust that made me cry out. Again. And again. My head pressed back into the pillow as pleasure coiled like fire in my stomach.

I was so close.

“On top,” he said roughly. “I want to see you ride me.” The words sent a bolt of heat straight to my core.

He rolled onto his back, lying there with his arms behind his head like a king waiting for his queen to mount him.

I straddled him slowly, his thick length sliding against my folds. I bit my lip as I lowered myself onto him, inch by inch, stretching wide around him all over again.

“Oh God,” I moaned as he filled me completely.

His hands gripped my hips, steadying me.

I started to move, grinding my hips in slow circles first, then lifting and dropping onto him, my thighs shaking with the effort. He was so deep this way, every movement rubbing against something inside me that made me dizzy with pleasure.

He watched me with hooded eyes, his jaw clenched tight, a vein pulsing at his temple.

I leaned forward, bracing my hands on his chest, my breasts brushing his skin as I rode him faster, chasing that coil of pleasure building low in my belly.

His hands traveled to my ass, guiding my movements, gripping me tighter as his hips began to thrust up into me, meeting me halfway. The sound of skin on skin, my wetness, our breathless moans, it was all so raw, so real, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

I threw my head back, my hair cascading down my spine, and cried out as the orgasm slammed into me. My body shuddered around him, muscles pulsing as he groaned and thrust deeper one final time, spilling into me with a growl that made my toes curl.

I collapsed onto his chest, completely spent, our bodies tangled in sweat and heat and silence.

And then, without a word, he slid out from beneath me and disappeared into the bathroom.

I was left alone, the ache between my thighs still lingering, the echo of his body still inside me and the sting of reality creeping back into my chest like a slow, cold wind.

I sat up slowly, trying to breathe, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

I had just sold myself.

But... it hadn’t felt like a transaction. Not even for a second.

He returned with a robe and handed it to me without meeting my eyes. I slipped the robe on.

He opened the drawer beside the bed, pulled out an envelope and put money inside, but I could not see how much, then he placed it on the nightstand.

“You can leave whenever you’re ready.” He said, and with that, he walked into the bathroom again.

I sat there, staring at the envelope.