Page 152 of Yearn
My pulse climbed into the nineties, then higher as my breathing shortened.
This was textbook addiction physiology.
My hypothalamus was already firing out to the rest of the brain and telling it that she was now my new oxygen.
I knew the stages—tolerance, dependency, withdrawal. I’d attended enough lectures on them in pharmacology.
Now I could feel it happening in real time—my neurons wiring toward her, building a habit my body wouldn’t let me break. My cock, my pulse, my breath—all of it already craving her and asking, “when can we have this pussy again?”
It should have frightened me.
Instead it felt like purpose.
“H-hello?” Scott’s words were weak and shaky. The sedative was still very much in his system, even as he fought to get full consciousness. In fact, he might have lost consciousness for a few minutes as he leaned against the door, probably barely able to keep himself up.
If we wait long enough, he’ll pass out.
Driving into her with manic, desperate thrusts, I lapped at the sweat on her neck, savoring the salty-sweetness of her sweat and the chemical sting of her intoxicating perfume. I growledagainst her throat and licked again at the flushed skin where her collarbone met the swell of her breasts.
Soft whimpers left her.
Pumping into her, I still spotted Scott’s shadow by the door.
The danger amplified everything too.
I could almost taste the adrenaline, the cortisol, the dopamine all colliding and making my skin hum.
I sank deeper, inch by inch, until there was nowhere left to go. Each push met the soft resistance of her body, that perfect tension between wet surrender and tight refusal.
She hit my back. “N-no. . .Dominic. . .”
Yet those words rode her soft moans that she tried to quiet.
And my hips still moved.
My will still burned.
Scott’s existence didn’t frighten me.
It fueled me.
His knock was still echoing when I pressed forward, deeper. “I want him to hear.”
“Oh fuckkkk.” Her breath caught on a whimper. She began dragging her nails across my back and doing her best to silence her moans. While she was trying to end this, every inch of her pussy pulled my cock in, demanding more, until there was no line between want and need.
The air thickened.
Heat.
Pulse.
Movement.
I couldn’t stop.
I didn’t want to.
She was everywhere—around me, beneath me, inside me.
