Page 33 of Full Throttle

My mouth watered, my eyes studying the way she worked her breast. In the neon light, even from this distance, I could see how hard her nipples were, poking up against the shirt.

“I just need to feel good for once,” she muttered, as if she needed to justify pleasuring herself.

After everything, I needed her to.

I needed her to feel good—even for a few moments.

My dick twitched, pleading for some kind of mercy. Thoughts gone, I was driven by a primal urge as my hand cupped the front of my jeans, pressing against my aching fucking cock. I bit down, trying to suppress my groan.

“For shits and giggles,” she said, her other hand coming into play now, slithering down over her stomach.

“Fuck,” I whispered, eyes wide.

Her long, delicate fingers lifted the hem of the shirt, revealing more skin and brightly colored lace. Her eyes snapped up the ceiling once more, her head falling back. My hand moved on its own, flicking open the button of my jeans and going inside. My hand wrapped around my hardened shaft at the same time hers dove into her panties. When I knew her fingers touched her clit, I moved my hand, watching her like a madman.

“Yes,” she hissed, moving her hand to the other breast.

“That’s it, baby,” I whispered, jacking myself slowly now. Make yourself feel good.

Her hand moved in a circle inside her panties, her fingers playing with her clit. “I’m so fucking wet,” she murmured, her sweet voice filled with need. I shoved my jeans down lower, freeing myself fully so I could stroke hard, my hand rubbing against the head, pre-cum dripping at the sight before me.

“I know you are, Nik, I know,” I told her under my breath, my muscles tensing.

She worked herself harder, her hips starting to move as she humped her hand. The hand on her breast snapped away before she shoved my shirt up, revealing her stomach and breasts. My hips snapped at the sight, as if on instinct. I braced my other hand on the door frame, squeezing it so hard, I was afraid it would snap.

“I just—I had to,” she whispered, eyes closed now as she moaned once more.

I wanted to close my eyes as pleasure built at the base of my spine, tingling and ready. Heat soared throughout my body as I fucked my hand faster watching the woman I grew up with.

The woman I could never fucking have.

The woman I drove to hate me.

“Pleasure yourself,” I bit off in hushed voice. “Give your man a show.”

Fuck, she wasn't mine, but right now, she was.

My fingers tightened around the wood of the door frame, the other squeezing my shaft harder as my balls tightened.

“Fuck me,” she begged, her voice shaking.

I bit down, dropping my head to watch my hand and hips move in time, picturing her legs spread wide for me, her wet cunt swallowing my cock over and over. “Every day,” I promised her softly, groaning. “Every damn day.”

“Yes!” she whimpered. I knew that pitch.

Sweat forming on my skin, I lifted my head just in time to see her back come off the mattress, her knees snapping close, body shaking. Her eyes were closed as she let out a silent cry, one that morphed into a desperate moan. “Oh, yes!” she breathed. I could still see her hand working her through her climax.

I was about to follow her when she cried out again, a second wave hitting her.

“Oh, yes…Cain! Please, God, Cain!”

My eyes widened at the sound of my name on her lips.

Before I could process anything, it triggered my own climax. Pleasure shot through me at the sound as I looked down, squeezing my eyes shut. She continued to cry out as I grunted in disbelief, my release shooting out, causing my knees to buckle. White spots danced in my eyes as the heat intensified, my hand continuing to fuck me, over and over, getting out every last drop for her. She said my name.

She said my fucking name.

When I looked up, Dominique was lying flat again, only one knee bent as she stared up. “What the hell am I doing?” she asked the room.

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