Page 41 of Total Abandon

Iwantto go in. There is no denying that. The thought of seeing him naked and pleasuring himself is enough to send a flash of tight, frantic need through my navel. Bowing my head, my eyes flutter shut as a stuttered groan escapes.

Are you really going to pass up on an opportunity to see a man like that naked?It’s this thought that has me flinging my clothes back onto the desk and striding over to the closed bathroom door. The cool metal bleeds into my fingers as they linger on the handle, hesitating. Was he kidding and I’m about to find it locked? Twisting the handle sideways, the soft click sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. Fuck. It really is open. The spray of water swells as I crack the door open a couple of inches. Then a couple more. Steam hits me and then…

Zeke has one arm braced on the glass partition facing the door, tall enough so that his fingers curl over the top. Dark, fiery eyes snap to mine, the faintest trace of a smirk twitching at his parted lips. My eyes drop. Water beats down on endless tawny skin, his dark hair plastered to his head, every chiseled line and divot on his tall, muscular body glistening. My lips part on a sharp gasp as my gaze follows that deliciously defined V of muscle at the base of historso. Color pools in my cheeks when it reaches his large hand fisted around the biggest cock I’ve ever seen.

If someone had told me that I would consider a penis good looking, I would have laughed. But here and now? Seeing him? It’s perfectly sculpted, thick, and snaked with mouthwatering veins. His large fist rolls lazily up to the dusky, wide, rounded head and pumps twice. Fuck. My thighs clench together and I’m pretty sure my eyes are as wide as saucers. I’m transfixed. Frozen to the spot like my feet have grown roots. Dickmatized.

“Sit on the vanity, Chloe.” The rough command slices the steamy, thick air, leaving no room for question. Swallowing roughly, I force my leaden feet to move and pull myself up to perch on the ledge. The steamy wet surface slips against the backs of my thighs and air sucks into my chest a little heavier as I watch his fist lazily pump, before my eyes jerk back to his. “Good girl,” he growls, and I catch a little jerk of his hips into his fist. My fingers grip the edge of the vanity, nails almost bending backward, every cell in my body ready to combust and turn to ashes beneath his smoldering gaze. “Feet on the edge—show me that pretty pussy,” he grates, his lips parted as he blows out a rough breath and thrusts into his fist.

I almost moan at the sight of it. All straining muscles and sliding, wet skin. Fucking orgasmic. It’s so distracting that I don’t quite process the command. “Chloe,” he snaps, drawing my attention away from his throbbing cock. “When we’re like this, you do as I tell you.” Thrust. Thrust. “Got that?”

I bite down on my lip and nod, leaning back so I can hook my heels onto the edge of the counter. It’s like all of my feminism has evaporated into a puff of smoke, drifting away on the breeze to nothing. If he told me to get on my knees and bark like a dog…hell, I probably would. Sucking in a deep breath, I let my knees fall to the side, baring myself to him.

“Fuck!” he groans, drawing out the word into a low throaty sound as his knuckles whiten on the top of the shower door. His eyes are glued to my center, his high cheekbones lightly flushed, and his lips parted. His fist begins to roll back and forth up his length in controlled movements, but he gnashes his teeth together like it’s taking every effort he has to hold back. “Your pussy is perfect; cieloen la tierra.” My cheeks burn viciously as every muscle below my waistline clenches. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

I’m not sure how this spiraled out of control so quickly, but I’m so far gone that my fingers eagerly leap into action without an ounce of hesitation. Weeks of tension pulse through my veins, twining with a fiery need that takes my breath away. Lightning sparks in those inky irises as my fingers crest along my clit, swiping and circling, before plunging into my soaked entrance. He grunts, his hips bucking as he flashes white teeth at me through the steam. “God, I want to fuck you. See how hard you make me?”

I moan, shuddering as I repeat the process again and nod. Desperation has me barreling toward that invisible finish line so quickly I’m scared it might tear me to shreds before I’m ready.

“My greedy girl, are you going to come for me already?” His voice drips with dark taunting, but I’m too lost in the sight of his veined forearm flexing as he bucks harder and faster into his fist and the tightly winding knot of pleasure behind my hip bones to care. “Is this what you want?” He drops his hand from the door, laying his palm out flat and thudding the thick, heavy length of his cock wetly against it twice.

“Yes,” I groan, my head tipping back as the first shiver of release teases the tip of my spine.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he orders, and I dip my gaze back down. “You know what you have to say if you want it.” He starts to move his hand again, this time the other joining it so he’s double fisting his length. Even his large hands can’t cover it all and the dusky head thrusts through his stacked fingers.

Please.It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back as I thrust my fingers roughly into myself, crying out as I’m tipped over the edge. Every muscle tightens and bursts gloriously apart, pleasure rocketing through every inch of my body like wildfire.

“Fuck! That’s so fucking hot,” he snarls, his fists pumping wildly as my stomach muscles convulse, each one drawing raspy cries from my throat. “Mouth open, tongue out,” he snaps, and my orgasm-numbed brain obeys, in total auto pilot. “Perfect,” he grunts. “One day soon, you’re going to get on your knees and take my cum like a good little girl.” His rough voice is laced with a carnal promisethat has me whimpering as my fingers chase the last fleeting waves of my orgasm.

Capturing his eyes, I draw my hand away from myself, pressing my two wet fingers into my open mouth, swirling my tongue around them. His eyes go wide, and victory burns in my chest as he groans deep in his throat.

“Filthy. Fucking. Girl.” Each gravelly word is punctuated with an uneven, jerky thrust. One of his hands shoots out and slams against the glass above his head, just as every breathtaking muscle in his torso strains tight like an elastic about to break. My eyes go wide as I watch his enormous cock begin to throb and jerk, each movement accompanied by a deep gravelly grunt and a thick rope of creamy cum. It hits the glass and begins to slide down as he pumps the last of himself out with gritted teeth.

When we both finally still, we do nothing but pant and stare at each other for what feels like minutes on end. I can hand on heart say that was the most erotic experience of my life, and the guy didn’t even lay a finger on me. Closing my legs slowly, I drop my feet back down from the edge. Whatever small portion of logic my sex-hazed brain has left is knocking wildly at a door of my mind, demanding attention. Awareness rushes in, a low thrum of panic making me sit a little straighter.

“Chloe,” Zeke warns, his hawk-like eyes catching the subtle shift. Time to do what I do best. Duck and weave. Aka, run.

“Well, thanks for the peepshow, Guerra. Ten out of ten. Gotta go!” I hop down from the vanity counter and avoid his eyes as I scurry away with my tail between my legs. I’m across my old bedroom in a few quick strides, grabbing up my clothes and careening toward the door. Once I’m through, I pick my way across the hallway in a pattern of steps branded into my mind from years of sneaking through this house without hitting the floorboards that creak.

I barrel through Tilly’s bedroom door in a tangle of shaking limbs and wide eyes, causing her to jerk awake where she’s lying in bed with one arm lazily slung above her head. Her grey-blue eyes blink groggily twice before she rolls her head to look at me. “Whathappened?” she rasps, rubbing her eyes and pulling herself up to sit while I close the door.

“Why would you say something happened?” My voice is high pitched and jittery even to my own ears. Gaze darting around the room, I avoid looking at her.

“Erm, because you’re bright red and you look like you’re running from a poorly executed bank heist?”

I scoff, dumping my stack of clothes down on her bed, snatching up panties, and beginning to tug them on beneath my towel. A wince runs across my features as I realize I should have cleared up the slick mess between my thighs before I did.

“Yousleptwith him, didn’t you?” Tilly whisper-screams, bolting upright in bed.

“No!” I cry louder than intended before following up in an elevated whisper, “No!” I avoid her disbelieving regard as I pull on my jeans and tank top. Snatching up the checkered shirt, I walk over to her dressing table and plunk myself down heavily on the stool. Pale, flushed skin and rounded eyes meet me in the mirror. “We…. God! I don’t even know what to call it. We participated in group masturbation?” I shove my arms roughly into the sleeves of my shirt as Tilly gasps gleefully, slapping a hand over her mouth.

“Like, voyeur style?” She’s up and out of the bed, closing the distance between us with a stupid grin on her face.

“Yup,” I croak, snatching up her hairbrush and starting to attack my sleep-tangled locks.

She lets out a loud guffaw. “Hot.” She brandishes the one word like a commandment that should wash away the twisted threads of warring emotions burning a hole in my chest. Gentle hands pry the brush out of my fingers. Finally meeting her eyes in the mirror, I see all her usual humor is gone.

“Tell me what’s going on in there.” She taps a finger softly at my temple and then begins to carefully brush my hair away from my face. The gentle scrape of bristles across my scalp does nothing to alleviate the tension bunching my shoulders. When I don’t reply, she clicks her tongue and twists her lips together in contemplation. “So, by my logic, this man is attractive, smart, rich, accomplished, and by the way, totally fucking into you.” She pauses, flashing me asoft glare. My responding scoff is reflexive, but even I can’t deny that he must be on some level, even if it’s just physical. “Don’t give me that shit, I saw you two in the car—that was not fake. For either of you.”