Chapter 5

five

SYDNEY

That was way too fucking close. I mean, not super duper close because I didn’t actually steal anything. Except almost a kiss.

Dennis could have kissed me, and then I think I would have expired because teenage Sydney is all about that life. My crush is ten years old but somehow came roaring back to life because I saw him at a sex party, looking fucking fine in that suit, but still.

I have to shake my head to clear the thoughts from my mind as I get the rules explained and am walked to the bedroom I’ll have use of for the night. The rules are easy. Consent is a priority. I don’t have to give my room key to my chosen partner. I can opt to be driven home by one of Fran?ois’s staff at any point with no questions asked unless I’m visibly upset, in which case they will ask questions to discern if my partner needs to be kicked out of any future gatherings.

My hands that hold the keys to the bedroom are shaking as I walk back into the living room. I need a safe space just for a moment to let my thoughts settle. The adrenaline pumping through my veins from almost being caught is starting to slow, but I desperately want a hug .

I head over to Louis and perch on the arm of the couch next to him. He glances up at me, and I can see the sheen of alcohol in his eyes. He’s not drunk, probably just skirting the line of tipsy. Knowing him, he doesn’t want anything to potentially detract from tonight.

“You doing okay?” he asks, squeezing my knee.

I can’t help but look up to find Dennis watching me from across the room, a water bottle in his hand. His eyes stay glued to mine before they flick to the spot that Louis is touching me. Dennis looks away, his jaw clenching. If I had to name the emotion on his face, I would call it jealousy, but that doesn’t seem right. I’m not his girlfriend or anything.

I didn’t look in the room earlier when they gave us the keys to the space because I was too afraid that seeing it would send me running home. I’m so outside my comfort zone I don’t even know where to start.

“We will now commence with the pulling of the keys. Carmen, will you start us off?” Fran?ois offers Carmen his hand and leads her up to where his Vanna White assistant is holding the bowl aloft.

Carmen makes a big show of digging around before producing a single silver skeleton key, not unlike the ones we were handed for our bedrooms. Fran?ois grins down at her.

“What a lucky lady, drawing the key for the master of ceremonies.”

I can’t help glancing in Dennis’s direction to see if he has any reaction to this. I probably would have been more surprised if she hadn’t pulled Fran?ois’s key. Dennis, for all his loyalty, gives no reaction to Carmen’s key draw.

There are four other women who go before me and each time they pull a key, I hold my breath, hoping and praying they don’t pull the key to Dennis’s truck. Each time I do, I wonder why I care so much. I’ve been ignoring the issue all night .

If I draw a key, will I have sex with that person? It’s not so cut and dry as everyone seems to make it. I don’t harbor any judgment for the people in this room who want to partake, but I know that if I pull Mr. Porsche, I’ll probably take the offered ride back down the mountain.

When it’s my turn, I feel like I’m walking for the first time after years of lying down. My body isn’t prepared to support me as I walk up to the bowl. So far, the people that have paired up have moved to sit together, still observing the draw but definitely starting the get-to-know-you process. I can hear whispers of bondage and safe words like they’re too impatient to get to the action. I think they are well within their rights to move to the private rooms, but maybe this is an unspoken part of the process, the voyeurism of it all.

Before I can get up there, I hear Fran?ois clear his throat. “You know the rules, Aaron. Not everyone consents to your act of exhibitionism.” I turn and look over my shoulder at where Aaron is stroking himself over his pants. So that’s Mr. Porsche’s name.

“Sorry. I’m just feeling good about this one,” Aaron calls playfully.

When I look back in his direction, he winks at me. A movement in the opposite direction draws my attention, and it’s Dennis having gotten to his feet. When he realizes he has everyone's attention, he makes a big show of putting his water bottle down on a platter for empty cups.

I get up to the keys and I feel breathless with the attention on me. I slowly reach my hand for the bowl when Louis startles me by calling out.

“Pick a winner, baby!”

“Those are the only kinds I know how to pick,” I call back jauntily with false bravado. When I start to feel around, I have no way of knowing what I’m touching. Some feel sleek, like those keyless button starts. In fact, most of them feel like that. Then I graze it.

The sharp jagged teeth for a car that needs an actual key to start. I could be wrong, it could belong to someone else, and while my hand stays suspended in the bowl with my fingers feeling this particular key out, I know all eyes are on me. Is it against the spirit of the game if I draw this key believing I know who it belongs to? Isn’t that what Carmen just did? I’ve never wanted to come even remotely close to being in the same camp as her, but if I’m right…

If I’m right, what would that mean? Could I handle that direct of a rejection? We’re all here for the purpose of sex, but even I’ve doubted my willingness to go forward with the act. What if I pick right, and he rejects me? What if I pick wrong? Am I willing to try to relax a little and have sex with a stranger? The cool metal of the car manufacturer’s logo is under my fingers, but I’m not sure I would be able to tell who it belongs to even if I tried.

I make the mistake of glancing in Dennis’s direction, and there’s a spot of hope on his face. Fuck it.

I pull out the key.

Holding it aloft for everyone, I scan the room to see if anyone else is going to lay claim to it, lay claim to me tonight. I move over Louis, who is smirking, and Ollie, who has a hint of disappointment on his face, past Carmen, who looks a little green, before glancing back at Dennis, who is not where he just was.

He’s walking toward me with sure confident strides to stand in front of me. I let out the breath that was trapped in my chest while I waited to be claimed. His hand is so large and rough as it wraps around mine the way it did to take a key from me thirty minutes ago.

“Mine,” he whispers for me before turning back to the room. “ It’s mine,” he confirms aloud the way all the men before him did. There’s no teasing assertion to rock my world. Or how he scored the most bangable chick here. He quietly threads his fingers through mine before leading me back to the loveseat we spoke on earlier. Only this time, instead of having me sit on the arm, Dennis pulls me into his lap.

It’s possessive, the way he’s touching me and glaring at the other men in the room, and I genuinely don’t recall him ever acting like this with Carmen, when his caveman instincts were probably at an all-time high thanks to teenage hormones.

I vow then and there to not think about Carmen for the rest of the night.

Tonight is just for me and Dennis and whatever secrets we create behind that locked door.

We’re quiet through the rest of the key draws. At some point, one couple takes their keys and heads to Louis, who looks over the moon at this. Ollie gets pulled by the Asian woman who tried to set her sights on Dennis, while Carmen and Fran?ois look cozy on his throne, I mean, chair, even if she is glaring in my direction.

What did she think was going to happen? Dennis was going to bring her up here for a fling and wait patiently in the car while she got railed by another guy? Who am I kidding? She probably did.

Drinks are still being passed out, and both Dennis and I take one, but we barely drink them. Once the key draw has finished, all the couples resume conversations at a normal volume instead of whispering about boundaries. They’re talking about free play and keeping the door open for voyeurs.

“I want the door closed,” Dennis says, his cheeks turning crimson as I look at him. “Sorry. That was presumptuous of me to assume you’re going to give me your key.”

I reach into the front of my dress, where the key has been tucked between my breasts since I was handed it, and pull it out. It’s warm and maybe a little sweaty. “You mean this key?” I ask, holding it up between us.

His hand clenches on my hip and I feel what might be a boner under my ass but he shifts like I’m not going to still feel it.

“Yes, that key,” he says hoarsely. He looks at it then up at me.

“That’s fine. I don’t like to be watched. It gives me performance anxiety.” I press on my lips, glad that Louis encouraged me to not go for kiss-proof lipstick. I need to reapply, and now I’m envisioning the red smeared all over his cock and have to shift to soothe the ache of my arousal, but it moves me right in a position to feel his cock. And Jesus, he’s not too big to break me, but he’s certainly going to be pushing the limits of it. “I like giving head. A lot.”

“I’ve only gotten head once,” he tells me, stark honesty on his face.

My eyes nearly bug from my face, but then I remember myself. “I also like receiving head.”

From the look on his face and the way his eyes shift quickly away from me, I have to wonder if I could be his first for that too. “Do you have any hard limits?”

I think on it for a second. “There’s probably a lot, but I’m going to assume this is a run of the mill, well run of the mill-ish sexual encounter. I don’t want anal.” I don’t tell him what crosses my mind–I don’t want anal tonight , but if there is another night for us, I might be willing. “Actually, anything in my ass is probably a hard limit, except maybe a plug, but I don’t know that they will have them here. Actually, I don’t even know what they have for condoms. I’m on the pill and have a clean bill of health. I haven’t been with anyone in…in a while.” Since I moved back home after college. It’s been years since the last time I had a man-made orgasm.

“I’ve only ever had one partner so I’m in the clear.”

I don’t point out that it doesn’t mean that he’s been her only partner. Whatever is going on with them, he doesn’t seem concerned about what she’s been getting up to.

“But all the same, I’ll use a condom. I’m sure they have them here.”

“Right,” I say slowly, feeling the awkwardness settle between us. I opt for humor. “I’m okay with some light bondage. If you’ve got your handcuffs tonight, I wouldn’t say no to playing with them.”

“Sorry. I forgot them in my other suit.”

“Bummer. Next time.” Our eyes find each other’s as soon as the words are out of my mouth. I hate how true it is. I want a next time, but I can’t have it. Outside of tonight, he’s not mine. He’ll go home and play house with Carmen, and while I may have had the cobwebs cleared out, I’ll still go home alone.

It just makes me more determined to milk this evening for everything it’s worth. I gently climb off his lap, and confusion crosses his face.

I wouldn’t be for him, anyway. I call him Deputy Perfect because he is. Star of the high school soccer team, smart and kind and generous to a fault. He wouldn’t want to get mixed up with the likes of me.

“I just need to go to the ladies room,” I tell him. Leaning forward, I press my hand to his chest, releasing the key into his breast pocket as I kiss his cheek. I can’t bear to look at him, that fear of rejection still lingering as I walk toward the bathroom. I grab my lipstick from where it was tucked in my purse and go to the bathroom to psych myself up and reapply. I study the girl in the mirror with her deep red lips and wide grey eyes. Never in a million years did I think I would wind up at a sex party about to maybe have sex with Dennis. Shaking out my hands, I leave the bathroom.

Other couples have started to disperse toward their rooms, and I’m the only one walking alone toward my space for the night. Did Dennis feel the key drop in his pocket? Should I have been more obvious so he knew that I wanted him here? Will he be inside waiting for me?

I pull the second key from my dress and insert it into the lock. I’m taking a deep breath in when I feel a body crowd mine, pressing me to the door. I should feel scared that someone has taken this level of control, but the woodsy scent of aftershave hits me, and I know I have nothing to fear.

“I have to hear you say it, Sydney. Do you want me to use this key?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The words get stuck in my throat, because yes, yes, yes. But what sort of woman does it make me that I covet a taken man? I need to stop thinking about tonight in terms of normal relationships. The rule book has been thrown out the window.

“Yes,” I whisper.

His hand covers mine on the handle and he presses in closer. “Yes, what, Sydney?” he asks. He must be stooping closer to me to whisper in my ear because his hot breath ruffles my hair.

“Yes, I want you to use the key,” I confirm, and he turns our hands on the knob.

The room doesn’t look like the den of sin I was expecting. There is no St. Andrew’s Cross against the wall. There are no whips or belts or floggers laid out on a table to be used. There is a small tray covered in plastic wrap sitting on the edge of the white bedspread. On the tray are at least three varieties of vibrators, a dildo, a butt plug, and a cock ring with a note that all items are new and to be considered party favors. On the nightstand beside the bed is a bowl full of condoms and not one but two large lubes, one water-based and one silicone-based.

Dennis grabs the tray to set it aside as he moves closer to the king-sized bed. With the tray out of his hands, he picks up another card set on the nightstand. “If we need latex free-condoms, we can call up front.”

“Is this a private residence or a sex hotel?” I ask with a nervous laugh.

“I don’t know, but it technically sits outside my jurisdiction so I’m not going to question it.”

My stomach roils and I wonder if I should do this. Dennis clearly thinks I did something wrong earlier. Worse, he thinks I did steal. He turns to look at me, and I can’t handle the concerned dip of his eyebrows. Whatever he sees on my face, he crosses the room to me in two sure steps.

Gently, he grasps my chin and tilts my face up to look at him. I’m grateful for my heels closing the height distance between us. I know he stands at just under six foot because in high school he would get teased for not fitting in with the taller guys, as if there was a correlation between height and dick size. But I’m just five two if I stand up really, really tall when my height is measured.

“We don’t need to do this, Sydney. We can go outside and I’ll drive you home, no questions asked.”

“What about having to return what I stole?”

Why oh why did I have to open my big fat mouth?

“I don’t care about that unless I get a report for a stolen item, and then I will come arrest you, and I promise you’ll like me a lot less if I use my handcuffs on you then.”

I stare into his blue eyes and know I’m in the right place, but more importantly, I’m safe in his hands.

“What if I wanted to be punished a different way?” I ask, a little breathless.

His gaze hardens. “Be explicit with what you’re asking for.”

Can I give voice to some of my dirtiest fantasies? Fantasies I dream of when it’s just me and my vibrator? Fantasies that I’ve never said out loud to anyone?

“I want you to flirt with being rough. You can take me roughly, pull my hair, spank me, but not with toys.”

He seems at a loss for words. “Then you need to pick a safe word.”

“Mistletoe.” I don’t know where the word comes from, but it springs forth from my lips. It just seemed appropriate at a Christmas-themed sex party.

“Maybe,” he says, stepping away from me.

“Maybe?” I ask, hating the vulnerability I’ve shown and how he seems unaffected by me.

“Maybe, Sydney. I don’t know what I’m comfortable with, so maybe. Maybe I’ll wrap my hands around your hair.” He steps forward and does exactly what he says, only there’s no aggression to the movement. It’s just so he has a better hold on me. “Maybe I’ll force you to your knees to see if you can suck my cock well enough to get out of trouble.” Discomfort flashes on his face like he doesn’t enjoy the idea of that dynamic, so I place my hands on his chest.

“It’s just a scene,” I whisper, reassuring us both. I know that Dennis has too much integrity to sexually abuse a woman to let her get out of trouble. There are men who aren’t as good as he is who would push the advantage, but Dennis looks sick just suggesting it .

His other hand covers mine on his chest then moves to cradle my face. “Or maybe I’ll steal the kiss I’ve been thinking of all night long.”

For a second I’m afraid he won’t, that he’s too trapped in that headspace over our dynamic.

Then he slowly shifts down to meet my lips, and I think my heart stops beating. At first he’s timid, feeling me out before he’s using his hold on my hair to draw me up and closer to him and then his mouth slants to deepen the kiss. I open my mouth to him, desperate to know how he tastes, and it’s a mix of mint and whiskey and something that feels like it was ten years in the making. Even in my heels, I’m up on the tips of my toes, desperate for more as our mouths move together in sync.

His hand releases my hair and he brings it to my waist, lifting me so he can hold me firmly against his body. I take it for an invitation to wrap my legs around his waist. We’re all tongues and teeth as I run my hands through his hair and he grabs both handfuls of my ass, massaging my rear end like he’s never touched something so magnificent.

He breaks away, and our height differential is reversed as he holds me tightly to him. We’re both breathing heavily, and there is a molten look in his eyes, like he wants to burn my clothes off.

It’s a standoff as we both try to decide what move is next. I want to prolong every moment of tonight. I want the sun to never rise and for us to see what toys and tricks will come if we press the buzzer.

I unwind myself from him, and I’m realizing just how well I’ve come to learn his nonverbal cues. How he survives as a cop when his thoughts are telegraphed all over his face, I’ll never know. He’s disappointed as I get back to my feet, but he eases me down, his hands holding my hips steady as I force some strength into them .

It became clear from our short talk in the living room that I have more experience than he does, despite the length of my dry spell, and I’m determined for him to leave this room with a better idea of what he likes.

If we only have tonight, I want it all.

I reach behind me for the tie of my dress, pulling on it so it loosens. It doesn’t fall, which is fine by me, but I don’t have anything to change into when I leave here, so I need to preserve the borrowed dress as best I can.

Carefully, I get to my knees in front of him. I can see the press of his erection against his pants and I have to remind myself to take it slow. I reach for his belt buckle and look up at him through my bangs. My lipstick is smeared along his mouth, and I can’t wait to make even more of a mess of him.

“I’ll do what it takes to stay out of trouble, officer,” I tell him, pouting my lips.

He watches me with rapt attention as I slowly drag the zipper of his pants down.

Whatever it takes, sugar?” he asks as he leans a little to grip my chin. It strains my neck, but I like the pull of it.

“Whatever it takes,” I assure him.

Dennis looks lost for a second, like he doesn’t know his line, and I reach into his pants to pull his cock free. He’s already leaking pre-cum, and I can’t help it, I lean forward and lick along the slit, gathering the moisture before moaning at his taste. Cum isn’t particularly delicious, but the salty tang causes moisture to gather between my legs. I know my pleasure will come later. For now, it’s time to show him what a real blow job feels like.

His hand slides into my hair, almost like he’s stroking it lovingly. “Then what are you waiting for? Open wide and choke on my cock like a good little slut and maybe I won’t need to punish you further.” His voice is strong, and it makes me want to comply. When I look up at him through my eyelashes, I can see the color rising to his cheeks. While his brow is furrowed, I can see the naked want in his blue eyes.

His dick is broad and thick in my hands. It’s girthier than it is long, but it’s by no means a disappointment. With his free hand, he grabs the base of his cock and smears the head of his dick along my lips like he’s painting my mouth with his cum. When I keep my mouth closed, he taps on my lips, and I open for him.

I go slow as I slide my mouth along him, adjusting to the size of him. It’s really like riding a bike, remembering how to slide my mouth along him, my tongue pressing on the vein on the underside of his cock before swirling around the head.

“Fuck,” he moans, his hand tightening in my hair. His hips piston forward and I let him guide our bodies even as his movements become erratic. I grip his hips, letting him use me for pleasure before he pulls out of my mouth abruptly. He squeezes the base of his cock as he looks at me, lust hazy in his eyes. “Pull that pretty dress down and show me those tits so I can paint them with my cum. That way the next time you think about doing something wrong, you’ll remember what it feels like to wear my mark.”

Oh shit. I never expected Dennis Mitchell to know how to dirty talk. I yank the front of my dress down, glad that I loosened it earlier because my nipples are barely free before hot lashes of cum are spurting on my chest.

He’s still breathing heavily, and honestly, so am I, when he grips my shoulders with a bruising strength. The idea of wearing these marks on my body has me licking my lips, and I wonder what he’s going to do next. Everything I thought I knew about Dennis has been blown to smithereens.

“Now get on that bed and show me that pussy you’ve been flashing everyone at this party.”

“I haven’t been,” I swear, but I saunter over to the bed, tugging on my dress until it falls down to the floor. My back is to him, and I glance over my shoulder at him coquettishly.

“Sydney, where is your underwear?” he asks, his voice dark as he comes up behind me.

“Oops,” I say, not apologetic at all.

His lips graze my neck, and I melt backward into his embrace. “Get on the bed on your back, and you’re going to spread those legs for me so I can see what a prize I won tonight.”

Dennis’s words are soft, spoken directly to me, and I don’t resist. I do as I’m told, even if I feel a little awkward as I move to the middle of the bed.

“And here I thought you were my prize. After all, I am the one who pulled the key.” He grabs my ankles and tugs me back to the center, and I can’t help the yelp.

“Too rough?” he asks, stopping immediately.

“No, just surprising,” I tell him with a grin because checking in on me feels more like the Dennis I know. He gives me a nod of affirmation before he kisses the inside of my ankle.

“I’m the lucky one here.”

Dennis shrugs out of his coat and tosses it on a chair that’s perfectly positioned facing the bed. He seems to consider it, glancing at the tray of covered toys before looking at where I’m spread out for him. My knees are bent, and I feel dirty with his cum drying on my breasts and my pussy open for inspection where he can no doubt see the arousal that’s been slickening my thighs since we started this game.

“God, Sydney, I’ve never seen a more perfect pussy on a more beautiful woman. I’m going to worship you the way you deserve for as long as you’ll have me.”

That’s when Dennis drops to his knees and I think I see heaven, because his mouth isn’t tentative as he licks my pussy. He devours it like he studied his whole life for this exact moment. I’m great at giving myself orgasms, but when a partner is involved sometimes it’s a little tricky. Dennis, though, is licking from my slit to my clit before sucking gently, trying varying levels of pressure before he finds the one that sends my hips bucking into his face. He pulls away from my pussy to kiss along the crease of my hip.

I whine in frustration and feel the answering smile against my thigh as he works back up to my belly button. My hands dive into his hair as I try to push him back down.

“Miss, please allow me to finish my very thorough search.”

That initial enthusiasm has slowed, but I think that’s because now he’s taking his time to not only tease me but feel which spots make me jerk my hips and which ones cause me to moan. He varies his pressure with his tongue, and at one point I have no idea what he’s doing, but my back bows off the bed from the bolt of pleasure that shoots through me.

“Holy shit,” I swear, fisting the sheets. “Do that again.”

Dennis doesn’t respond. He continues to lick and suck my clit, this time adding his fingers into the mix. He’s circling my opening, not daring to go in, just teasing me. I want to slide down the bed onto them, but he presses his other arm on my lower stomach, holding me in place. He doesn’t stop his task, but he glances up and gives me a warning look.

I can feel my body dancing around the enlightenment that comes with a good orgasm. It’s when his fingers thrust inside me that I detonate, my body convulsing as I give a soft, low moan of his name. My hands grip his hair, a silent plea for him to not move his mouth as he holds me through my orgasm.

I expect him to back off then, but he doesn’t, not until I’m quaking under him from a second one and I’m begging and pleading for mercy from the oversensitivity. Even then he doesn’t stop and if I could maybe form a coherent thought I would wonder if he is looking for my safeword, but I’m not even close to wanting to use it, even as he keeps going. It’s not until I’m about to come a third time, pleading and crying with Dennis, when I feel a gushing sensation. My legs lock up and the orgasm steamrolls through me, flattening me into a boneless heap, low guttural moans escaping me. Do I black out? Maybe. But I’m definitely hearing a ringing in my ears.

As I push up on my elbows, I look down at Dennis, whose face is covered in my release. He drags his hand down his face, licking his lips. The look he’s giving me tells me he was ready to hold me down until I died from orgasms, but I’m glad he let up because there is still so much more I want to do with him.

“I think you just peed on me. We didn’t really cover that when going over our limits.”

“If you actually thought it was pee, I don’t think you would have licked it off your lips,” I point out weakly, falling back on the bed.

Dennis grabs hold of my wrists and helps me up. “You’re not wrong. It’s too late for me to get embarrassed about my lack of experience, but do you have any idea what that was?”

I’m sitting in a small puddle of my own release. I grab Dennis’s forearms as I get to my feet. “I think I just squirted,” I tell him, a little mystified myself.

“You’ve never done that before?”

“No, I have not. Since we’re dealing in uncomfortable truths, I haven’t been with anyone since college and my trusty vibrator is great, but apparently not as great as your mouth,” I say laughing.

“Let’s get us both cleaned up.”

He leads me to an en suite bathroom. I’m able to really look at his body as he strips for me since until now I was the only naked one. He’s buff but not ripped. I feel confident in his ability to fuck me against a wall without dropping me. There isn’t a mark on his skin, not a scar or tattoo to be seen, the light dusting of a happy trail. I almost like it better that he’s not some unattainable supermodel hot under his deputy uniform. It makes me feel like I’m someone who he could want back. While the shower warms up, I use the makeup remover to take my makeup off. Dennis leans against the tile wall opposite the mirror. He’s so casual baring it all while I’m fighting the urge to cover up.

With a fresh face, I turn to face Dennis for him to cup my cheeks. “Should I brush my teeth? I don’t know what proper etiquette is here.”

“That is up to you. I won’t be offended if you want to brush.”

“So, it’s okay if I kiss you?”

I smile at his thoughtfulness and nod before tilting my chin up so he can press a tender kiss to my lips. I can still taste myself on his lips, and I don’t hate it.

We make out lazily in the shower as he scrubs me down, taking care as he rubs between my legs with the washcloth. Not wanting to deal with sorting out my bangs, I keep my hair mostly dry, throwing it up in a clip that’s set on the counter. This place really has everything from hair ties to sex toy cleaner.

It’s stunning the tender care that Dennis shows me as he bundles me up in a giant towel, trapping my arms in the terrycloth before scooping me up and carrying me to the bed. He climbs in beside me so we’re facing each other.

“Are you okay?” I ask, the need to check in on him overriding my urge to keep this about us. I know I said I wasn’t going to think about Carmen the rest of the night, but I can’t help it.

He grabs the edge of the towel and pulls it open, exposing me to him. For a second, I think he’s going to just ignore my question and we’re going to move right back into sex, but he closes the distance between us so we’re chest to chest.

“I’m so much better than okay,” he whispers against my lips, kissing me slowly. It doesn’t feel like just sex and that scares me shitless. Dennis Mitchell is too good for me, too pure as his hand settles on the bare skin of my waist, as his hands touch and feel all around my body, making me feel light and treasured.

He strokes my side, bringing all my nerve endings to life, coaxing the desire back out into the open after such sweet aftercare. I reach between us for his towel, pushing it open clumsily. He laughs into my lips before helping me so we’re bared to each other again. He can see all of me, even in the cozy lighting in the room, but his eyes stay on my face.

“I wasn’t bullshitting you earlier. You’re magnificent.” He cups my cheeks, thumbs gliding back and forth, and this isn’t supposed to be tender loving. Tonight is supposed to be filthy fucking.

I can’t bring myself to break the fragile peace we’ve created around us. I hook my leg over his, pushing him back gently. He allows me to maneuver us so I can straddle his hips. I keep peppering kisses down his neck and chest, sliding down his body until I can take his cock into my mouth again. I’m not planning on a full blow job. Instead, I bob up and down, watching his face as he runs one hand through his hair. The other is fisted in my abandoned towel.

When I get back up to his mouth, kissing and nipping, I’m unable to stop my need to give him a hickey on his chest, out of sight. His hand fists in my hair, not stopping me when I do, and when I get back to his mouth, the feverish need from earlier is back. He reaches beside him to the nightstand to grab a condom, but I take it from him, ripping it with my teeth, unable to stop the smile on my face .

“I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you tenting your pants when I sat next to you,” I tell him with a laugh.

He opens his mouth to say something but stops because I’m rolling the condom down his length. I keep my hand fisted at his base as I notch him at my entrance. I feel like I should say something profound but I think we both know that this moment is going to be one of those zero point moments where there is a before and after.

He thrusts up just a little so the head of his cock has breached me, and just that small intrusion has my hand braced on his chest, clenching and drawing my nails down his skin, drawing blood.

I can’t take it anymore. Slowly, we work together, with small movements down for me and little thrusts up for him until he’s inside me.

“Sydney, you’re so fucking tight. You’re choking my goddamned cock like that pussy never wants to let me go.” My eyes fly to his, and he looks like he’s struggling to maintain his control. “Now show me what good sluts can do and bounce on this cock until you come.”

I take slow, deliberate movements, even if it tortures us both. His hand slides between us so when I come back down his fingers can provide a delicious friction on my clit. Soon, the up and down isn’t enough for me, and I’m grinding down on him until it’s just right and my head is falling back as I come softly this time, small quakes working through my body.

Dennis is right behind me, thrusting into me one last hard time. When I roll off him, he takes care to dispose of the condom, and I watch him carefully.

The night continues like that, alternating between kissing and touching, everything from oral to heavy petting to filling more condoms than I think I’ve used in my lifetime, until we both pass out sometime in the early hours .

A door closing in the hall rouses me, but Dennis sleeps soundly beside me. He has one hand fisted in the sheet at his waist, just covering the goods, while the other is stretched toward the side where I slept. No, that’s an inaccurate statement. I slept curled beside him, my head on his chest, resting on that arm.

Quiet as I can, I pull my dress on. When I go to grab my underwear from my purse, I’m hit by a moment of impulsive inspiration that I act on before slowly sliding out of the room, escaping down the hall.

I’m hoping that whoever was offering rides at the start of the party still is, but I don’t have to find out. Louis is lying on the couch with his arm flung over his eyes.

“Louis?” I whisper, but it’s pointless. I’m waking him up regardless. I approach him and shake his shoulder.

Springing up, he looks at me, eyes bleary with sleep. “One word: pegging.” He stops whatever else is going through his mind because he’s really looking at me. “Looks like your night was just as good with Deputy Good Guy.”

“Can we go? I want to get waffles before my cooch freezes off.”

“I guess even a good fuck can’t fix your attitude.”