Page 92 of Beneath the Light of the Moon

“Always so put together on the outside, but little does the world know…”she murmured against his wet skin,“you’re falling apart on the inside.”

Fuck, fuck,fuck.

“Shut. Up,” he gritted out, the words falling out of his mouth in tandem with his pumping hand.

“Poor baby. Let me touch you, I can make you feel so good.”

“N-no—don’t.” He didn’t know why he bothered to answer, no one there to hear, but the trembling words fell from his lips regardless.

“Liar. You think I don’t see the way you look at me, the way you send Levi after me all while wishing it was you?”

He jerked, her accusations and the friction from his hand overstimulating him. Any other person whispering these words to him wouldn’t have made it home alive, but her…well, he wanted to be abused by her only if it meant she’d pay him anounceof attention. That was what he’d been chasing ever since the club.

Gravity swept out from under his feet. The only thing keeping him grounded was the single fingertip she traced up his bicep. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he knew she was tracing the snake winding around his upper arm.

“Mikko, Mikko, Mikko,”she repeated, the way her lips formed his name making his heart thunder beneath his ribcage. He never wanted her to stop saying it; he yearned for it to be the only name she’d ever remember.“Ever the snake, crawling on your belly to me…”

Shewas right.

A grunt was his only response. Rhythmically, he thrusted his hips forward to meet his hand, wetsmacksresonating in the small space as if this had always been the solution to his self-induced problems. God, if only it were that—

“How badly do you want to fuck me?”she asked, teeth latching onto his earlobe, canines scraping across the tender flesh.

Sparks erupted behind his closed eyelids, his brows furrowed in an attempt to hang on—to hold off on his release. Mikko didn’t want to finish in here where his evidence would be washed away down the drain. No, he wanted her to come home andfindhis release smeared on things she loved.

Like her scarf.

Loosening his hold on his cock, he quickly turned the shower off. Anika’s figure dissipated, evaporating along with the steam. Roughly, he pushed the shower curtain aside as spots crept into the corners of his vision. Stepping out, he watched as water flew off his limbs and splattered onto the floor and walls.

But that was not what held his attention.

Mikko’s eyes latched onto the cosmetics at her sink.

With a sinful grin of his own, he found himself dripping wet before her makeup products. His hair dripped and hung in his eyes all while he fisted his cock again. Release coiled at the base of his spine, only a few pumps needed to get him to come. His skin shone with the residual water, but he was too busy imagining Anika discovering the mess he was about to make. And the way her lip gloss covered mouth would look wrapped around his cock, molten eyes looking up at him begging for everything he was giving. After being forever unreadable, he could finally understand what she wanted.

Fucking into his hand, Mikko yearned to make her cry, makeup streaking down her cheeks ruining her own perfect facade she kept up no matter what. He knew therewas more lurking below the surface—things she never showed. And he wanted that barriergone.

Blood rushed his head, cock pulsing with the impending release that was sure to explode out of him.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he chanted, his hand tightening to emulate the feeling of her pussy milking him.

The edge he’d been teetering on fell away, his climax washing over him as his eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. Hot ropes of cum spurted out, his release splattering over the basin of her sink and cosmetics. His knees trembled with the release. Warm relief flooded his body, a weight lifted off his shoulders as he stood there wearily.

Her soft laughter filled his head. Or maybe that was his own, the sudden exhaustion washing over his body making it hard to discern reality from make believe.

Cracking open his eyes, the lights suddenly bright, Mikko glanced around.

Drip, drip, drip.

His hearing faded back in, the steady drip of water falling from his body and onto her bathroom floor grounding him. Releasing his hold on his cock, Mikko stepped back, light headed from the exertion. Even though he didn’t know what time it was exactly, he had a feeling his window of opportunity was closing.

Quickly, he used her towel to mostly dry off, a few drops of water clinging to his skin as he stooped down and gathered his discarded clothes. Stepping into his pants, he looked out and saw her dresser sitting perfectly in line with the bathroom door.

An idea formed in his mind.

Blame post-nut clarity…

Once he was satisfied with his little idea and his execution of it, he tugged his shirt back on. The scent of vanilla mixing with his cologne lingering on his shirt made his blood hum. A soft smile graced his lips, content in his evening activities. Once he was gone, he’d sendher the photo of himself as a little tease.