WHISPERS IN THE DARK lll

My whole body burned, begging for something more, but Ethan stayed perfectly still, as if sleep had claimed him again.

Then, just when I was about to break and reach for him myself—his fingers moved slowly. 

Testing a gentle rub over the thin lace, right against where I craved for him most. My lips parted in a sharp inhale, and I bit down hard on the pillow to muffle the sound.

He knew I was awake. He had to. No one was touched like that by accident.

The pressure grew firmer, his fingertips tracing slow circles before slipping beneath the lace. I was soaked, embarrassingly wet, and his groan against the back of my neck confirmed it.

“Fuck,” he whispered so low I barely caught it.

His fingers parted me, exploring and sliding through my slick folds before curling inside me with steady, deliberate precision. I gasped, clutching the sheets, every nerve of mine alive with the forbidden intimacy of it.

“Ethan…” It came out as a whimper, zero protest, and half a plea.

“Shh.” He moved closer, his lips brushing my ear, rough with restraint. “Don’t wake the neighbors.”

The silliness made me want to laugh, but then he twisted his fingers just right and I forgot everything but the ache spiraling higher inside me.

I rocked against his hand like a shameless, desperate slut. Weeks of silence between us, months of hunger I’d buried under politeness, all coming down in a single night.

When his hand slipped away, I almost cried out in frustration. Until I felt him pushing my shorts down, tugging the lace aside and pressing the hard length of his shaft against me from behind.

“Tell me no,” he murmured. “And I’ll stop.”

I didn’t..I mean I couldn’t, my silence was its own confession.

He eased into me slowly, stretching me around him, filling me deeper than my fingers ever could. My breath hitched into a moan, softened by the pillow, my body arching back into his.

“God, Maya,” he groaned, burying himself to the grip. “You’re so tight… so fucking wet.”

I bit my knuckle to keep quiet as he began to move, slow and steady, grinding me into the mattress with each thrust. The sound of our bodies meeting was a sloppy sound in the silence of the room.

He set a rhythm that had me trembling, rolling his hips with gifted control. One hand gripped my waist, the other sliding up to palm my breast, his thumb flicking my nipple until I squirmed under him.

“I’ve always wanted this,” he whispered harshly, his breath hot against my neck. “You pretending to sleep… driving me fucking insane.”

A whimper escaped me, He’d known all along I wasn't sleeping.

I turned my head just enough to meet his mouth, and the kiss was hungry, a bit clumsy, our teeth clashing in our desperation. His tongue claimed mine as his thrusts grew rougher and harder, pounding into me until the bed creaked in sync.

I came undone first. The pressure burst, shattering me into inaudible cries against his lips, my walls gripping him so tightly he cursed into my mouth. He continued fucking me through it, relentless, chasing his own release.

But he didn’t stop there.

Before I could catch my breath, he flipped me onto my back, spreading my thighs wide and sliding back into me in one deep stroke. The angle made me scream into the pillow, stars exploding behind my eyes.

“Look at me,” he demanded, catching my chin. His eyes burned, with something wild and dark. “I want to see you fall apart.”

I obeyed, staring up at him, my hair messy around my face, and my lips parted. His thrusts were brutal now, sweat slicking his forehead, and every one of his muscle straining as he drove into me over and over.

I clawed at his shoulders, wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing more. “Please,” I gasped, not even sure what I was begging for anymore.

He gave it to me anyway.

He shifted, lifting my legs higher, pressing my knees to my chest. The new angle had me crying out, the pleasure almost unbearable as he hit every spot inside me, again and again.

“You’re mine,” he growled, pounding harder. “Say it.”

“Yes,” I sobbed, my back arching. “I'm yours. Always—yours.”

That broke something in him.

He slammed into me with a growling curse, his release spilling hot and deep inside me as I shattered again around him, my second orgasm tearing through me so violently I saw white.

For a long moment, we stayed locked together, our bodies trembling and our breath mingling in the dark.

Then he collapsed, dragging me against his chest, with his shaft still buried inside me. His lips brushed my temple, softer now, almost tender.

“We can’t go back from this,” he murmured.

“I don’t want to,” I whispered back, my eyes closing, and my body still humming with aftershocks.

The room was quiet again, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. It wasn't empty or distant.

Now it was full of everything we’d tried so hard to deny—desire, danger, and the sinful whispers we’d finally given in to.