Page 165 of Going Viral for Christmas
The barrel rattles now, metal bands creaking like they’re seconds away from giving out. I drive into her harder, deeper, the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoing in the cellar with every brutal thrust.
Ava’s palms skid against the oak, searching for grip. “Soren—God—” she chokes out, voice pitched high and ragged.
“Louder,” I snarl against her neck, teeth grazing her flushed skin.
Her answering cry rips through me as I pound into her like a man starved, hips crashing into her ass in a rhythm that borders on savage. Every thrust rips a sound from her—whimpers, moans, gasps—that mix with the slap of my body claiming hers, my groans echoing off the stone walls.
“Christ, Bells,” I growl, rutting into her as her pussy clenches around me. “You take me like a fucking goddess.”
Her cries mix with mine until the room is nothing but noise—wet, filthy, desperate noise. When she shatters around me, screaming my name, I lose it completely, slamming in one final time and spilling inside her with a hoarse, guttural groan.
We’re both panting, ruined, surrounded by glass bottles and thesmell of wine. I kiss the back of her neck, laughing hoarsely against her damp skin.
“You okay?” I brush her hair back.
Ava nods. “Yeah. Um… definitely good. More than good.”
I grin. “Excellent. Now let’s get back out there and show the world who Bell and The Blade really are.”
Ava exhales as though she’s trying to remember how lungs work. “Right. Absolutely.”
I help my girl stand, smoothing her dress back down over those toned, silky legs. She’s flushed, glowing. I want nothing more than to throw her over my shoulder, take her upstairs, and sink my cock right back into the tight little pussy again.
But alas, after I use a cloth napkin to clean myself up, we slip out of the cellar and head back down the hallway. Her fingers interlace with mine, and it makes my chest thud with an ache of guilt for what I’m keeping from her.
We turn the corner, only to come face-to-face with Fisher, standing in the corridor like a Bond villain waiting to deliver the final blow. Phone in hand. Eyebrow raised. Lips pursed.
His hazel eyes volley between Ava’s flushed face and my smug one, then trail downward as though he’s mentally cataloging every fabric wrinkle, hair shift, and indication of—well—exactly what happened behind that closed door.
His voice is low. Ominous. British. “I heard screaming.”
Ava freezes. “Fisher?—”
“Everyoneheard screaming. Including the champagne guy, who dropped an entire tray outside that door.”
I clear my throat. “Technically, she didn’t scream that loud?—”
“Technically,” Fisher cuts in, “you two weredoingsexual things in the wine cellar during a black-tie event—and I wasn’t evennotified!”
Ava sputters. “We weren’tdoing?—”
“Oh, don’t you dare lie to me, Ava Bell. I know post-orgasm hair when I see it.” He points to her face. “I know suspiciously flushed cheeks. I know the limp of a woman whose knees went on strike.”
I hold back a laugh. “You don’t knowwhatwe were doing.”
“I don’t need a play-by-play,” he snaps. “But someone screamed.Loudly. And then another sound shook the catering staff. That waiter will probably need therapy, Ava.”
She groans into her hands. “Please stop.”
Fisher presses a hand to his heart. “I’m not mad that it happened. I’m mad you didn’t tell me this was even happening. You two leveled up and didn’t inform me? I had a whole thing planned. I hadpre-drafted pep talks, Ava. Scented candles. Emergency snacks. A Spotify playlist called "In Caseof First Penetration.”
I cough. “We didn’t?—”
“Again, I don’t want details!” Fisher throws up his hands. “I want emotional access!”
Ava groans. “This is my nightmare.”
Fisher steps closer, hard expression dissolving, like he’s not still mentally assigning us trauma homework. “All I’m saying is—if the two of you are gonna slide from fake-ass dating into whatever-the-hell-that-was territory, I deserve a heads-up. A whisper. A flash of Morse code.Something.I am your person,Ava.And I cannot be expected to face the party alone while your orgasm echoes through the vents.”
