Page 149 of Yearn
A drawer scraped.
Something fell.
He loudly cursed.
And I began fucking Teyonah from the bottom, not caring at all about his fucking headache or the fact that he was looking for her.
She pressed her hand to her mouth to hide the moans rising from her chest.
I covered it with mine, swallowing the sound, refusing to let Scott steal even one echo of her pleasure.
“Focus on this cock. Not him.”
Her eyes met mine—wide, dilated, desperate—and the look said what our bodies already knew: stopping wouldn’t save us; stopping would only starve us.
She moved again, helpless but certain.
I answered, setting a deeper angle, her body clenching around me, keeping me captive.
The house groaned again, a latch rattled, then a door above us yanked open and thumped shut.
Shit. He’s going out the back door. He’s probably coming to my place. No. Stay up there.
We both flinched, then chased the rhythm like sinners sprinting through a church.
His heading our way should have been the moment to stop.
I couldn’t let that happen.
Instead, I flipped her over until she was on her back and I was in full control. My cock was deep inside her, locked in a rhythm that argued for itself.
She groaned under my hand over her mouth.
“Be good. Stay with me. Don’t let him take this.” My cock pulsed with her rhythm, trembling on the edge of surrender. “Come on. Doesn’t this cock feel good?”
She moaned under my hand.
Her breasts bobbed with the faster tempo.
I held my orgasm back.
Barely.
The edge turned slippery.
I heard the oncoming ocean of ecstasy in my ears.
Blood.
Breath.
Her.
One more deep thrust.
Then another.
Then—
