Page 54 of The Replay

Rasping breaths. Our voices. Gentle wet sounds and the rustling of fabric. All sounds blend together in the elevator, while heat blooms and expands through me, and if there's enough light around us now, for sure some of it shines from within me too.

I can forget about fears and nerves altogether, when pleasure offers to overtake everything else.

My knees buckle. "Remember how you used to push your cum back inside? We could… you could…"

He makes a groan that has me at the edge.

"Can't fuck you properly without also rocking this elevator too hard. We can't risk it."

"What if… I'd like it if you…" I don't know why I can't finish my sentence.

Maybe because we're not supposed to be doing any of this. But we're doing it. Sweet distraction. Sweet, sweet dream. It feels too good to call it wrong.

"I'll be very still," I manage.

Two, three seconds later, and he makes up his mind.

"Turn around."

His gravelly voice has me whimpering.

I don't fight. I turn.

He pushes against me, flattening me against the wall. "Do you have any idea what that needy voice does to me? Is that why you use it?"

His hand digs into my pants again, rough on my clit a few times. My orgasm tantalizes me, and I'm torn between delaying it or running toward it. I don't need to choose. He pulls his hands away and pushes my pants down, underwear included, to my mid-thighs.

With confident hands, he positions me so my back curves and my ass displays for him.

"Push your clothes down." He touches me from behind, just soft passes of his fingertips over my labia, in the small section he can reach between my thick thighs and ass. "I'm busy."

He presses a finger until he can rim my entrance again. I push my pants down desperately.

I hear rustling behind me. He pulls me from my hips until I take a few small steps back. With a firm hand he bends me down somewhat, then lifts my leg until my knee braces on the handrail.

"Dom," I moan.

"Maybe my cock has the power to cure your anxiety," he rumbles. "Should we give it a good try?"

The hot tip of his erection parts my lips, right where he teased me a moment ago. But he doesn't push. I sway back.

"Don't." One hand goes to my hair. He holds my face against metal, my hair taut among his fingers. "You said you'd hold still."

"I will. I will. Now do it."

"I should take this chance to tell you no." He enters me slowly. Too slowly. "But I'm finding I don't want to, after all. Not today. A fucking exception, you hear me?"

He forces my face against the wall. I moan. His other hand grabs my thigh, keeping me open to him, teasing the sensitive skin of the back.

"For the life of me," he breathes. "I don't want to. Not right now."

"Dom," I whine.

He fucks me slowly. In and out, half as fast as my heart rate. I have to bite my lip not to beg him for more, and I may break a couple of nails trying to scratch the metal surfaces around me, but there's no other way to remain still when I'm craving so much more. When pleasure and torment mix, making me yearn for things I promised I would never ask from him again. So much so, that I'm willing to sacrifice my pride for another taste of us together like this.

He groans. It rumbles in the space between us.

"Fuck, Mari."