Page 136 of Through the Flames
Later, after we had finished washing the dishes and the kitchen had grown quiet, Ella pulled me toward her room. The house wasn’t empty; everybody had just gone to bed already.
The voices of her parents were like ghosts behind the walls, reminding us to stay quiet even as the tension between us became palpable. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and old wood, a comforting and grounding scent.
She stopped at the doorway, pressing her palm lightly against my chest.
“Just … stay with me,” she murmured. The words weren’t a plea, they were a challenge wrapped in trust.
I didn’t argue, and let her guide me inside, the weight of the day still pressing against my ribs. Once the door closed behind us, she spun around, her fist catching my shirt as her lips crashed against mine.
There was desperation and need, as well as something else: an acknowledgement of the tension I’d held in check all day.
I growled low in my throat, one hand tangling in her hair and the other covering her mouth to muffle her gasp. The look she gave me over my palm was pure defiance.
Every brush of her fingertips across my skin set off a spark I couldn’t ignore and craved to feel over and over again.
“Slow down,” I rasped against her lips, but my voice betrayed me. My chest felt tight already, my pulse spiking.
“No,” Ella breathed. “Need you to use me.”
Jesus.
I spun her, pushed her back against the wall, and kissed her until she moaned into my mouth. She clawed my shirt off, nails raking my chest like she wanted to leave marks, like she needed proof I was real.
The mirror caught us in the corner. Her flushed face, and her eyes wild; mine, dark and feral in contrast. A perfect reminder of what we were risking in this quiet house.
“Look at you,” I growled, dragging her to the glass. One hand on her throat, the other sliding under her shirt, pushing it up. “See what’s mine?”
Ella gasped as I pressed her front to the mirror, skirt shoved up, panties tearing in my fist. Her reflection fueled something vicious in me, and her muffled moan vibrated against my palm. “Hunter—”
I tilted her face to the mirror. “Look. Even when you can’t make a sound, look at what you do to me.”
Her reflection stared back, flushed and trembling, lips parted like a prayer.
“Hunter, please—”
“Fuck,” I growled, shoving my pants down, cock dragging heavy and aching between her cheeks. “Yeah, this pussy is mine, baby.”
“I —oh my Gooood.” Ella choked, her breath fogging the glass as I lined up, my hand branding her throat.
A savage noise ripped from my throat, and then I drove into her in one brutal thrust, rattling the mirror against the wall. We froze for a moment, panting and listening for any sound of voices or footsteps.
Ella’s nails were clawing at the glass, trying to find purchase as I ground my hips against her ass before slowly pulling out of her tight walls again.
“Push your hands against the mirror if you don’t want your parents to hear me filling up your pretty little pussy.” I squeezed her throat, just once, watching the lust spread on her face with a dark chuckle. “Doesn’t make a difference to me. I’m fucking you, no matter what.”
Greedily, she pushed her ass back, forcing more of my cock back into her.
“Please, I need you,” she whined.
“So desperate. I got you, baby.”
Her back arched beautifully as I fully thrust back in, her tight ass smacking against my front.
Every time I bottomed out in her soaking wet pussy, her reflection broke a little more. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes kept rolling into the back of her head.
My other hand slid down, finding her clit, rubbing merciless circles until she was sobbing my name.
“Look at you,” I murmured lazily against her ear, hips snapping relentlessly. “Fucking messy for me. You think anyoneelse gets to see you like this? You think anyone else gets to hear those sounds?”
