Chapter 5

Anna’s breath hitched, her eyes pinned to the gold band in Anthony's hand. Her pulse hammered against her ribs—he actually did it.

“How did you get my wife’s ring?” Jake’s voice was low, his brow furrowing as he plucked the ring from Anthony’s palm.

“I... I must have dropped it at the party,” Anna blurted out. Her voice climbed an octave, trembling as the lie left her lips. Jake’s jaw tightened, a vein pulsing in his temple. He forced his face to stay blank, but the grip he had on the air around him felt heavy with rage.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Anna added, snatching the ring from Jake’s hand. She slid it onto her finger with shaking hands. Anthony watched her, a slow, half-smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I will leave you both now. Enjoy the evening,” Anthony said. He flashed Anna a sharp smirk before turning away. Her stomach performed a sickening somersault.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Jake’s hand shot out, clamping around Anna's wrist. He twisted it just enough to make her wince. “What the hell was that? You actually went to a party?”

“You’re hurting me!” she hissed, leaning in so their heated words stayed between them. “I went with my best friend. Am I not allowed to have a life?”

“Jake!” A colleague shouted from across the room, waving enthusiastically.

Jake’s expression shifted instantly. He flashed a polished, professional smile and waved back. He let go of Anna’s wrist, his eyes turning cold again. “We are talking about this the second we get home,” he muttered. He straightened his suit jacket and walked away.

Anna stood frozen, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm against her chest. She scanned the crowd for Anthony, but he had vanished. A surge of heat rushed to her face—anger, fear, and something else she couldn't name. She grabbed a glass of wine from a passing tray and drained it in one gulp.

The air in the room felt thick, suffocating. She needed air—or water. Stumbling down the hallway, she pushed open the door to a restroom. It was empty. She dropped her bag on the marble counter, turned the faucet to cold, and splashed her face. She leaned over the sink, watching the water drip into the drain as she fought to steady her breathing.

When she finally looked up at the mirror, her heart stopped.

Anthony’s reflection stood right behind her.

She whirled around, her back hitting the cold edge of the sink. “What the hell are you doing?” she gasped, her voice thick with panic. “This is the ladies' room!”

“Is it?” Anthony stepped closer, his boots clicking on the tile. Anna stepped back, but there was nowhere to go. Her hips pressed into the sink.

“This is wrong. You can't be in here,” she whispered. As he moved into her personal space, a spark of electricity shot through her. Her skin prickled, and a sudden, sharp ache centered between her thighs. He hadn't even touched her yet.

Anthony leaned in, his breath hot against her ear, sending a violent shiver down her spine. “I think you’re the one who’s lost,” he whispered. “This is the men’s room.”

Anna’s eyes darted past his shoulder. Her stomach dropped as she spotted the row of urinals against the far wall.

“Oh my God!” she panicked, shoving against his chest. “My mistake. I—I have to go.”

She tried to bolt, but he caught her wrist. With one fluid motion, he jerked her back against him. Her chest collided with his, and their lips stopped just two inches apart.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was a low, velvet growl that vibrated in her chest.

God, he was driving her crazy. The memories of their night together flooded back—the heat, the weight of him, the way he moved. Her breath hitched as she felt a familiar, heavy ache between her thighs. Her lace panties were already ruined, soaked through, but her mind was screaming at her to stop.

“We can’t,” she slurred, her head spinning from the wine and his scent. “We’re at a party... and my husband...”

“Husband?” he echoed, his eyes dancing with dark amusement. “Last I checked, you said it was an open relationship. Or did you just lie so I’d fuck you?”

He smirked, leaning in closer. She barely heard his words; she was too busy inhaling the scent of expensive bourbon and musk on his skin. It was intoxicating. Her body was a traitor, leaning into him, begging for the very thing she knew she shouldn't have.

“We are...” she started to protest, but he didn't let her finish.

He slammed his lips against hers. The sudden contact made her gasp into his mouth, and he took advantage, his tongue sliding against hers in a slow, demanding rhythm. Anna’s eyes fluttered shut as she matched his pace, a broken moan escaping her throat and echoing off the bathroom tiles.

He pulled back just an inch, his lips glistening. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

Anna, completely dazed, gave a small, shaky nod.

Anthony’s smirk widened. In one swift motion, he hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her. She was weightless in his arms as he sat her on the cold marble counter. He stepped between her knees, his gaze locked onto hers, burning with heat.

“Open your legs for me,” he commanded.

She obeyed instantly, her knees falling apart. He grinned, clearly enjoying how quickly she folded for him. He slid his hand under the hem of her gown, his palm grazing her inner thigh. As his fingers reached the damp silk of her underwear, his grin turned into a predatory smile.

“We can’t do this here,” she whispered, but her voice lacked any real conviction. She was arched toward him, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

He didn't answer. Instead, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down. He picked them up and pressed the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply as if he were taking a hit of a drug.

The sight of it—the raw hunger in his eyes—made Anna bite her lip so hard she tasted copper.

“I’m keeping these,” he said darkly, stuffing the silk into his back pocket.

Before she could breathe, he pressed his fingers against her. She let out a sharp cry as he found her center, his thumb beginning a slow, agonizingly perfect circle over her clit. She squeezed his shoulders, her head falling back as the friction sent white-hot sparks through her nerves. He watched her face, his own breath hitching as he felt her pulse throbbing against his fingertips, his own desire straining against the fabric of his trousers.

“Do you like that?” His voice was a raw, seductive growl that made her vision blur.

Anna was spiralling. She wondered if her body would actually snap from the pleasure because she was so close to the edge. Suddenly, he stopped. She gasped, her lungs burning as she opened her eyes to meet his. He was already smiling, a dark, hungry look in his eyes.

He didn't give her a second to breathe. He hooked his hands under her knees, spreading her legs even wider on the cold marble, and buried his face between them. The first lick of his tongue against her clit made her let out a broken whimper. He tasted her, swallowing the heat of her, his tongue working with a rhythmic, desperate intensity. He sucked and licked her pussy like it was his final meal. Anna lost her mind, her hips bucking against his face as she moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the tiles.

He shoved a finger into her mouth to muffle the noise. She sucked on it frantically while he kept eating her out. When he finally pulled his face away, he crashed his lips against hers in a deep, aggressive kiss. She could taste her own juices on his tongue—salty, sweet, and intoxicating.

“Please... fuck me,” she begged the second their lips parted, her voice a desperate wreck.

Anthony smirked. He gripped her waist and swung her off the counter. Her legs hit the floor like jelly, barely holding her weight.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

She obeyed instantly, bracing her hands against the sink. He hiked her gown up, exposing her bare ass to the cool air. She was dripping, her pussy soaking wet and ready. Anthony worked his belt loose, and his dick burst out, thick and rock-hard. He reached out, his hand wrapping firmly around the back of her neck, and she whimpered at the pressure.

He didn't need lube. He was so hard, and she was so wet that he slid home in one heavy, smooth thrust. Anna groaned into the mirror as he filled her completely.

“My fucking God,” Anthony hissed. The sensation of her tight, wet pussy was insane. He clenched his jaw, let out a low grunt, and realized he’d have to fight to stay in control.

“Yes... fuck me. I’m your slut. Fuck me, Daddy,” she gasped as he began to move.

He didn't hold back. He slammed his dick into her with a violent, steady pace. The sound of his balls slapping against her ass filled the small room. They didn't care who was in the hallway; the risk only made the sex better.

“Look at yourself,” he groaned, his hand tightening on her neck as he forced her to look at their reflection. “Look at my dick going in and out of your fucking pussy.”

The sight of it—his dick disappearing inside her over and over—pushed her over the edge. “Yes! Please... make me cum. I’m about to cum, please!”

She sounded like a desperate hole, begging for him to finish her. Anthony picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and harder, driving deep into her.

“I’m cumming,” he growled. He pulled his dick out at the last second, grunting as he stroked himself off, his cum hitting the floor as they both breathed heavily.

Anthony took a moment to recover, his eyes traveling over her disheveled hair and flushed skin. He smirked at how thoroughly fucked she looked. He cleaned himself up and stepped toward her, adjusting his suit.

“Are you good?” he asked, his voice returning to that smooth, dangerous silk.

Anna nodded, a dazed, happy smile on her lips. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth.

“You should go now,” he whispered. “Your husband might be looking for you.”

She nodded again, smoothed her dress, and walked out of the bathroom. Anthony watched the door swing shut. He had finally found someone who matched his freak, and he wasn't letting her go anytime soon.