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Chapter 7

Eve

As promised, it was with a full and content belly that Eve and Cyrus finally left the restaurant. She was for sure thankful for the food arriving before she lost her mind and her chastity with the dark-haired bachelor. Now the mission was to contain herself until the safety of her apartment.

Meaning, no touchy-touchy naughty-naughty stuff with the bad boy.

All the way home.

In the car’s confined space.

Eve pouted, she always had a thing for sex in cars, who knows why. At the sound of a soft chuckle at her side, she glanced sideways. Cyrus held her gaze, his eyes sparkling with a teasing light, sending a shiver down her spine as they waited for the lift to take them down to the ground floor.

Damn it.

The realisation hit her, the elevator. Two confined spaces she needed to hold back from jumping on the man and begging him to fuck her. And he was not going to help her stay respectable. Her pulse quickened as the lift finally landed, opening its door to hell. As soon as they entered, the air between them grew thick, her fingers twitching slightly, pulling on her dress as she fought the urge to reach out and touch his skin. She glanced quickly at Cyrus, who was looking at her hands, still clenching, the smile on his face calling for trouble.

“What?” she muttered, distracted a fraction of a second by the group of three businessmen entering the lift before the doors slid back, forcing the couple to back up a bit .

Cyrus went straight to the back of the lift pulling her against him, holding her butt against his thighs. Her gasp had the other group of people peering at her and in return she whispered a high pitch “Good eveniiing” which ended with Cyrus holding back his laugh. His torso silently moving up and down, in an effort to contain his usually gigantic laugh.

She gave him a sharp elbow, certain he would barely feel it. In return, the only thing she could feel while the lift was FINALLY going down, was Cyrus hardening against her ass.

The lift stopped at another floor, and Eve held back her breath as Cyrus’s hand started its way down the line of her back. Great.

I mean, who doesn’t like a back rub, this is fine.

Enjoying the caress more than she should, she gave in, his warm and huge hand alternating between a light caress and a full massage, but soon his hand went lower. If someone looked at her face right now, they would guess something was wrong. Her eyes betrayed her, her cheeks were burning, and her lips felt dry.

His hand was starting to adventure lower now, MUCH lower, patting her round ass, lifting up her dress.

Another stop. Another floor. People going in and out. And soon, a finger was going in and out.

Eve caught Cyrus’s hand in hers, holding it tight against her stomach, while she subtly spread her legs, giving him better access, letting him play. It didn’t take long before she could feel her juices all over the place, savouring his enormous and expert fingers teasing her, everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Up and down her slit, all the way up to push on her sensitive button, then when she could barely breathe, leaving it, heading back to her drenched slit, to finally entering her. One finger, two fingers. She wouldn’t be able to stay quiet if he went to three. Her fingers gripped his hand harder, and she turned her head lightly to look at him, a storm in his eyes staring at her, continuing his back and forth downstairs.

She was so close to an orgasm but before she could release his fingers left, stopping their dance. At Eve’s speechless look, the man smiled, quickly pulled her dress back and pushed her forward lightly towards the exit .

“We’re down love” he murmured, guiding her shaking body, frustrated and wet, oh so wet.

“I fucking hate you!” She slapped his hand once out of the lift, getting a few curious looks from people waiting in the lobby.

“You didn’t seem to hate me that much ten seconds ago,” Cyrus laughed, catching up with her, as she walked angrily towards the glass doors, deciding to call a cab to teach him a lesson. Once outside, Cyrus on her heels, laughing in the background — asshole! — she took her phone out and he caught her hand and in a swift movement blocking her arms behind her back, all while carrying her to the shadows of one of the gigantic columns of the entrance.

He pressed her against the marble, and she welcomed the cold texture against her burning skin. Cyrus was still holding her hands, standing above her at a worrying altitude.

“Spread your legs.” His voice was raspy and Eve couldn’t believe it but it was even sexier than before.

“No.”

“That was not a request Genevieve,” he whispered in her ear, making her tremble under the words, placing his knee between her legs, pushing them apart, daring to chuckle at the whine escaping her.

Before she could protest again, his fingers started back right where they stopped before.

Oh well, I will teach him a lesson next time.

Rage.

Hate.

Disgust.

There aren’t enough words to describe the scene a few metres away. At least not nice ones.

This fucking little whore. She was MINE.

MINE .

MINE.

Hands clench in a rageful fist, the pain of my nails digging in the chair doesn’t matter. My eyes can’t let go of the porn action on display, it’s dark under the columns but I would recognise her anywhere. That hair, those fucking legs I would rip open, that mouth.

She’s with Cyrus, I knew I needed to keep an eye on her. She’s just like all the others. Just a fucking whore that deserves to die.

A sigh lingers on the air, hanging on a hope for a second she didn’t hear me, but she’s too busy being fingerfucked by the bastard.

Now is not the time to lose my mind.

Time to get ready for the next step.

Death.