Page 5 of Crown of Thorns
The toilets are empty, quiet in a way that feels too pristine. I automatically head for the private stall, the one farthest from the door. I’m about to flush when the entrance bursts open with a jarring clatter. Someone bumps inside, soft chuckles as clothes get wrestled off. There’s a clunking sound, followed by a ‘Merde!’ More chuckles.
“Fuck, I’m so hard,” Louis Deveraux rasps. “Yeah, that’s it, take it out, it’s all yours, baby boy. Fuckkkk…” Wet, sucking sounds fill the restroom, accompanied by grunts. My breath catches. I go rigid. Not just with shock, but something molten and uncontrollable that coils low in my stomach. Louis hums, the sound like a spark to dry tinder, going straight to my own dick. It hardens instantly, my pulse a drumbeat in my ears. I stay frozen in place, breath shallow, skin flushed. “Faster, baby,yeah, just like that. Choke on it, I wanna hear you struggle,” he growls. My dick pulses, sharp and aching, together with a shot of awareness so intense it leaves me reeling.
No. It can’t be. Can it? No way. Now I know where I know him from. He’s the guy from the club.
That voice. That filthy confidence. My skin crawls as everything clicks into place. Holy—no. No, no, no. Louis Deveraux was the one who had dropped to his knees for me that night. My stomach twists. I stay rooted to the spot, still locked in the stall, mind racing. My stomach heaves. A cold flush drains the blood from my head. My legs almost give out.
Cold sweat breaks out at the realization. Does he know it’s me? It was dark inside that room. It’s very possible he doesn’t know it’s me. Right?
Now I’m trapped inside a stall, being forced to listen to Louis getting a blowjob. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. His low moans, cries of pleasure, the dirty talk…
Whoever’s on his knees for him, is making a gagging sound. My hand cups my erection, unable to keep away. Stifling a groan, I fight against the desire I don’t want to feel.
“That’s it. So good, baby boy. You’re so good for me,” Louis croons. He really has a sensual rasp to his tone.
I jolt when my phone pings.
Melody: Aaannd? Want me to pick you up?
I fumble with my keyboard, hand shaking.
Me: I’m okay. I’ll text you when I leave.
Louis lets out another moan. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”
She replies, the sound making me bite my lip in frustration.
Melody: Yes, boss
I don’t know if I should laugh or growl. Fumbling to silence it, I freeze, but judging from the choking sound, they haven’t heard it.
“Fuckkkk…” Louis groans. I press a hand against the wall, trying to ground myself against the sudden, uncontrollable need pulsing through me.
There’s the sound of kissing. “Hmm, I needed that. Love you in this outfit. You should wear it more often when you come and serve me.”
“And I love your cock. Always love to drink from you.” The waiter, without a doubt.
My cock twitches in my pants at those filthy words.
“I’ll text you.”
“Can’t wait, darling.” Another kiss. I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe hard through my open mouth. I’m rock-hard. No way I can return to the dinner like this.
When the door finally opens and closes, leaving me in a painful silence, I pop the buttons of my dress pants and roll down the zipper, taking out my cock. Precum sits at the tip, the visible vein another proof of my arousal.
I have no time to overthink though. Swiping a thumb over my slit, I brush the wetness over my shaft and start stroking, my mind a reel of porn videos and the sound of Louis’s dirty words. I furiously tug on my dick, stroking it to an impending climax. My toes curl and I let out a grunt, heat clutching my insides, fusing with hunger as the tension increases. My eyes roll back and I feel my balls draw up, heavy and ready. I come all over the wall. “Fuck,” I whisper.
I grab the toilet paper, wipe the wall, and swallow the loathing down. I flush the toilet, take in a few deep breaths, then open the door.
Louis Deveraux is leaning against the sink, a feral look in his dark eyes, watching me.
You have got to be kidding me.
“Hello, Louis,” I say as neutral as possible as I turn on the sink.
“Hello, Professor.” He moves to stand beside me. “Enjoyed the show?”
Giving myself a glare, I pet my hot face with my wet hands. “It’s been a pleasant evening, thank you for asking.”
