Page 150 of Yearn

Knock.

Knock.

No!!!!!!!!!

Scott knocked on my door again and again.

Flat.

Stupid.

Undeniable.

Those fucking knocks landed like a mallet to the sternum.

GODDAMN IT!

Her whole body locked around me with shock.

My vision snapped to hard focus and then went grainy with refusal.

But. . .I couldn’t stop fucking her even though her husband was on the other side of the door.

Even though she shivered in fear.

“Excuse me?” Scott knocked again. “I’m looking for my wife. I see her car. Is she down here?”

Chapter twenty-six

The Knock and the Needle

Dominic

That piece of shit Scott was at the door. His fucking shadow bled beneath it like an oil spill.

The sedative should’ve knocked him out.

Maybe the beer was messing with the absorption rate. Alcohol and benzos—they could fight each other or double down depending on the stomach content.

Maybe he’d metabolized it differently—built a tolerance for drugs. I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that Scott was a functioning addict, the kind who lived on pills and uppers just to stay upright.

Or maybe his system was just wired wrong.

No. Something else is burning through the sedative. Some other drug. What is it?

“H-hel-l-loo?” Scott slurred on the other side of the door, sounding half-conscious.

Shut the fuck up. Don’t make her stop this.

Pissed, I captured Teyonah’s mouth before she could speak. Her lips shivered under mine, soft and unsure. She fit against me like she had always belonged there, the lush soft curves of her full breasts meeting the hard lines of my muscular chest.

My pulse hammered against my throat.

My cock throbbed inside Teyonah's slick heat, her pussy’s wet, delicate folds of flesh gripping me perfectly. Her perfume clinging to my skin as the scent of sex, musk, and sweat filled the air.

Every nerve ending screamed for completion, for the brutal, beautiful release that hovered just beyond reach.

It was unbearable—the duality of it.