Page 14

He kisses the side of my neck, soft and wet and possessive, each press of his lips deliberate. I go pliant in his lap, panting, my eyes fluttering closed as he trails those kisses lower—over my collarbone, between the swell of my breasts, until he closes his lips around my other nipple and sucks.

Hard.

I cry out, his pierced tongue flicking fast, his teeth grazing before he bites down. My hips buck as I writhe on him without meaning to, lost in the sensation.

He kisses his way up my neck stopping right at my ear as he whispers, “Can you feel what you’re doing to me, sitting on my cock in that cute little dress?”

I grind down against his lap—and fuck, he’s hard. Thick. I can feel every inch of him through his jeans, pressing up beneath me, demanding attention.

My thighs spread wider, my soaked panties clinging to me with embarrassing need. His hand drops and snakes up under my skirt, his knuckles slowly drag along the ruined lace.

“Mmmm, messy girl,” he purrs, his lips curving in a smile against the hollow behind my ear as he presses the flat of his fingers against my pussy. “You’re fucking dripping.”

I can’t deny it.

His hand yanks my panties to the side with a sharp motion that makes me shudder, then he strokes between my puffy lips, spreading the wetness, owning every inch of me.

I grind against his hand, and I swear I can feel every heartbeat in the tips of my nipples, still sensitive from his mouth.

His fingers find my clit, circling, pressing, coaxing a needy sound from my throat.

My hands are still pinned behind my back, helpless to do anything but feel.

I’m completely at his mercy. And I fucking love it.

“Look straight ahead,” he orders suddenly.

I blink, chest rising and falling fast, the pulse between my legs hammering like thunder. “What?”

“Don’t move. Just look.”

So I do.

Through the big bay window of the Airbnb’s living room, soft yellow light spills out onto the porch, and there they are. Our friends. Laughing, talking, drinking, with Ouija board set up in front of them. Casual and unbothered, completely unaware of what’s happening just feet away.

Except if I can see them that clearly…

My blood goes ice-cold and fire-hot all at once.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, knees snapping shut on instinct like a trap.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growls, voice razor sharp. “Open those fucking legs for me. Now.”

“Ghost—” I start, panic and heat battling in my throat, but he cuts me off.

“I said open them .”

My thighs tremble as I slowly let them fall apart again, inch by inch, baring myself to him—and maybe to anyone else who happens to glance outside.

“That’s more like it,” he rasps, almost condescending, teeth sinking into the curve of my neck. “I felt it earlier today. You like the idea of getting caught, hm?”

His fingers slide right back to my soaked slit like they never left, claiming what’s his. Slow and cruel, they drag slick through my folds, teasing the edges of my engorged clit.

I whimper, trying to stay quiet, but it’s no use—my body’s on fire and he knows exactly how to fan the flames.

I can barely breathe. My chest is rising and falling fast, nipples still stiff, thighs slick and open, my whole pussy buzzing from the rush of delicious knowledge that someone inside could see.

“You love to show off your sexy body. Don’t you, baby? To have random guys jerk off to you on the Internet. To know they lust after you but can’ touch.”

He slips a finger inside me, slow and thick, and I gasp so loud I have to bite down on my lip to muffle it.

His words punch straight through the haze in my head, cutting deeper than just skin.

I do like it—have liked it, secretly, guiltily—for longer than I’ll admit.

That tiny thrill every time I posted something risky, every like, every filthy comment.

But that was always behind a screen. This? This is flesh and glass and open windows. Real. Dangerous. And way too close to home.

“Stop…” I beg, but my body tells him a whole other story. “They can see us here.”

“Mmm, yes. And you want them to see how soaked you are for me,” he snarls, adding another one, then pumping them deep against my tightening walls. “You want them to know what a good toy you are, letting Daddy play with your greedy cunt in front of their eyes.”

I should be furious at him, but God help me, I’m not. I want this—I want him. I need him to finish what he started on the sidewalk.

My head falls back on his shoulder, and I let myself feel all the sensations at once. His firm chest pressed up against me, his warm breath on my skin, his throbbing cock between the cheeks of my ass, his fingers curling inside me, his lips brushing mine.

And just as I’m about to reach a peak, he pulls back.

I blink, stunned, my head snapping up.

That’s when I see him.

Nate.

Standing by the kitchen island with a drink in hand, mid-laugh with someone, but his eyes… they are on me. Wide. Frozen. Locked.

He sees everything. Everything .

The blood drains from my face, then surges back in a molten rush of heat. My legs snap shut, and I fix my cleavage with trembling hands.

A low, dark, satisfied sound that rolls through Ghost’s chest like thunder. But I can’t even bring myself to start bitching at him.

Suddenly, I’m hyperaware of every detail—how it’s gone dark outside, pitch black at the edge of the woods. The cicadas stopped singing, but a breeze stirs the porch windchimes and rustles the leaves with a shushing sound. A sharp, loud whistle cuts through the night, just behind us.

Ghost stiffens.

My eyes try to detect the noise. “What was—”

His hand clamps over my mouth, turning my head back to him. “No,” he murmurs, and I freeze. “Don’t acknowledge it.”

Silence.

The rest of the group is glued to the window. Dev holds a camera. Kendra bounces in excitement. Nate stares blankly, still looking at the exact spot where he saw me moments ago.

Then, another whistle echoes through the trees.