Chapter One: Confined Sparks

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended through the steel and glass skeleton of the Manhattan high-rise, its polished brass doors reflecting the muted glow of the overhead lights. Inside, Carolyn adjusted the weight of her leather briefcase against her hip, her sharp green eyes flicking to the digital display above the doors—32… 33… 34—before settling briefly on the man standing beside her. Toby stood with the effortless posture of someone accustomed to command, his dark suit tailored to the precise contours of his broad shoulders, his fingers tapping once, twice, against the smooth surface of his phone before slipping it back into his pocket. The air between them was the kind of polite, professional silence that existed in elevators every day, thick with the unspoken agreement to ignore each other’s presence entirely.

Carolyn exhaled through her nose, a quiet sound that carried just enough irritation to be audible. The day had already been long—too long—and the last thing she needed was another delay. She had stayed late to finalize the deposition summaries for the Henderson v. Mercer case, her fingers cramping over the keyboard as the hours bled together, the office emptying around her until only the hum of the fluorescent lights and the occasional whisper of the janitor’s cart wheels remained. Now, all she wanted was the crisp bite of a cab ride home, the weight of her heels kicking off at the door, and a glass of pinot noir that didn’t come from the sad little mini-fridge in the break room.

The elevator shuddered.

Not the usual gentle deceleration, the kind that pressed lightly against the soles of her shoes as the car slowed, but a violent, metallic lurch that sent her stumbling forward. Her free hand shot out, fingers splaying against the cold brass railing that lined the back wall, her briefcase swinging wildly before she caught it against her thigh. Beside her, Toby’s shoulder tensed, his body shifting instinctively to brace himself, one hand flattening against the wall as if he could steady the entire machine by sheer will. The lights flickered—once, twice—then held, casting a sickly yellow pall over the confined space.

Silence.

The digital display above the doors blinked once, the number 37 frozen in place, then darkened entirely.

Carolyn’s breath hitched. She straightened slowly, her grip tightening around the handle of her briefcase. “Well,” she said, her voice dry, “that’s not ideal.”

Toby didn’t answer immediately. His dark eyes were fixed on the seam where the elevator doors met, as if he could pry them apart with his gaze alone. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached out and pressed the button for the lobby. Once. Twice. The button lit up beneath his finger, a feeble orange glow, but the elevator didn’t move. He tried the Door Open button next. Nothing.

“Fantastic,” he muttered.

Carolyn arched a brow. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

That earned her a glance, sharp and assessing, as if he were weighing whether her comment was worth a response. Then, the ghost of a smirk touched the corner of his mouth. “I was under the impression these things were supposed to work.”

“Ah, so you’re an optimist.” She shifted her weight, the heels of her pumps clicking against the metal floor. “How quaint.”

He turned fully toward her then, leaning one shoulder against the back wall, his expression unreadable. “And you’re not?”

“Not when it comes to elevators in buildings that were last inspected sometime during the Reagan administration.” She tilted her head, studying him. They had passed each other in the halls often enough—nods in the break room, the occasional exchanged pleasantry in the copy room—but she realized now that she had never really looked at him. Not like this. The overhead light caught the dark stubble along his jaw, the precise line of his mustache, the way his lashes cast shadows beneath his sharp cheekbones. He was handsome in a way that was almost annoying, the kind of polished, effortless attractiveness that made her want to roll her eyes on principle.

Toby crossed his arms. “You’re assuming it’s the building’s fault.”

“Oh, you think we broke it?” She laughed, a short, humorless sound. “Please. I weigh a hundred and thirty pounds. Unless you’ve been smuggling dumbbells in that suit, I don’t see how we’re the problem.”

His lips twitched. “Fair point.”

A beat of silence stretched between them, thick with the unspoken acknowledgment that they were, in fact, stuck. Carolyn exhaled, shifting her briefcase to the floor with a thud. “Alright. What’s the protocol here? Do we press the emergency button? Yell for help? Start reciting our last wills and testaments?”

Toby’s gaze flicked to the emergency panel, its red button glowing like a warning. “We press the button. Someone will answer.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then we press it again.” He reached out, his finger hovering over the button for a fraction of a second before pressing down.

A crackle of static filled the elevator, followed by a distant, tinny voice. “…maintenance. What’s your location?”

Carolyn stepped closer, her shoulder brushing Toby’s arm as she leaned in. “We’re stuck in Elevator Three, between the thirty-sixth and thirty-seventh floors. The doors won’t open, and the car isn’t moving.”

“Copy that. Sit tight. We’ve got a team on it.”

The line went dead.

Carolyn straightened, her brow furrowing. “‘Sit tight’? That’s it?”

Toby’s shoulder shifted against hers as he lowered his hand. “What did you expect? A marching band?”

She shot him a look. “A timeline would be nice.”

“They’ll get us out.” His voice was steady, but she noticed the way his fingers flexed at his sides, the slight tension in his jaw. He wasn’t as calm as he pretended.

Carolyn crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Hard to say.” He glanced at his watch—a sleek, expensive thing with a face like polished obsidian. “Ten minutes. Maybe twenty.”

She exhaled sharply. “Great. Just enough time to miss my train.”

“You take the train?”

“No, I was planning on sprouting wings.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I take the train. The 6. Which, if we’re here much longer, I’ll miss. Again.”

Toby’s mouth quirked. “You could always call a car.”

“And sit in traffic for an hour? No thanks.” She shifted, the toe of her pump tapping restlessly against the floor. “Besides, I like the train. It’s… efficient.”

“Efficient,” he repeated, as if testing the word. “That’s one way to put it.”

She eyed him. “You’re a cab guy, aren’t you?”

“Black car, usually.”

“Of course you are.” She smirked. “Because heaven forbid Toby Whatever-Your-Last-Is slums it with the rest of us plebeians on public transit.”

That earned her a genuine laugh, low and rough, the sound of it filling the elevator in a way that made her stomach flip unexpectedly. “It’s Whitmore. And I’m not against public transit. I just value my time.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those lawyers.” She tilted her head. “The kind who bills by the second.”

“Guilty as charged.” He held her gaze, something flickering in his dark eyes—amusement, maybe, or challenge. “What about you, Carolyn…?”

“Hale.” She didn’t miss the way her name sounded on his lips, the slight roughness of his voice. “And I’m a paralegal. So I’m the one who actually does the work while you take the credit.”

His brows lifted. “Ouch. Tell me how you really feel.”

She waved a hand. “Oh, I like lawyers well enough. When they’re not being insufferable.”

“Noted.” He leaned back against the wall, the fabric of his suit whispering against the metal. “So. Carolyn Hale. How long have you been at the firm?”

“Three years.” She hesitated, then added, “You?”

“Eight.” He studied her for a moment. “You’re good at what you do.”

The compliment caught her off guard. She blinked. “You’ve… noticed?”

“I pay attention.” His voice was quiet, almost casual, but there was an intensity to his gaze that made her pulse stutter. “You handled the Richards deposition last month. Impressive work.”

Warmth crept up her neck. She hadn’t expected him to know that. Hadn’t expected him to care. “Thanks,” she said, suddenly hyperaware of the way her blouse clung to her shoulders, the way her skirt hugged her hips. She cleared her throat. “So. Eight years. You must like it here.”

“It’s a job.”

“Just a job?” She arched a brow. “Somehow I doubt that. You don’t strike me as the kind of man who does anything halfway.”

He held her gaze, something unreadable passing behind his eyes. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t.”

The elevator hummed around them, the silence stretching, thickening. Carolyn shifted, her fingers curling against her palms. “Do you think they’ve forgotten about us?”

Toby glanced at his watch again. “Five minutes. They haven’t forgotten.”

“Five minutes?” She frowned. “It’s been longer than that.”

“Has it?” His voice was smooth, almost teasing.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re messing with me.”

“Maybe.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Or maybe time just feels slower when you’re trapped in a metal box with a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger,” she pointed out.

“Aren’t I?”

She considered that. They had worked in the same building for years, had exchanged polite smiles, had even collaborated on cases, but she realized with a start that she didn’t actually know him. Not really. “I suppose you are,” she admitted.

“Then let’s fix that.” He pushed off the wall, turning to face her fully. “Ask me something.”

Carolyn hesitated. There was something dangerous in the way he was looking at her, something that made her skin prickle with awareness. “Alright,” she said slowly. “Why law?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he were resisting the urge to adjust his cuffs. “Because it’s the only thing that makes sense to me,” he said finally. “Rules. Logic. A clear right and wrong.” He exhaled, a short, humorless sound. “Or at least, that’s what I thought when I started.”

“And now?”

“Now I know better.” His mouth twisted. “But by then, it was too late to turn back.”

She studied him, the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows when he looked down. “What about outside of work?” she asked. “What do you do when you’re not billing hours?”

“Not much.” He shrugged. “Whiskey. Chess. The occasional ill-advised attempt at cooking.”

She laughed. “Ill-advised?”

“Let’s just say I’ve set off more smoke alarms than I’d like to admit.”

The image of Toby Whitmore—impeccable, controlled Toby Whitmore—flailing in a kitchen filled with smoke was so absurd that she laughed again, the sound bright and unexpected in the confined space. “I would pay to see that.”

“Don’t.” His voice was dry, but his eyes crinkled at the corners, the first real hint of warmth she’d seen from him. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not saving the firm from my incompetence?”

She sobered slightly at that, her fingers tracing the edge of her briefcase. “Wine. Books. The occasional spin class, though I’m terrible at it.”

“Terrible?” He tilted his head. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, I’m terrible,” she insisted. “I have the coordination of a newborn giraffe.”

That earned another laugh, deeper this time, and the sound of it sent a shiver down her spine. She pressed her lips together, suddenly hyperaware of the way her body hummed in response to him, the way her breath hitched when his gaze dropped to her mouth.

The elevator shuddered again, a low, metallic groan that made her flinch. The lights flickered, dimming for a heartbeat before snapping back to full brightness.

Carolyn’s fingers tightened around the handle of her briefcase. “That didn’t sound good.”

Toby’s expression darkened. He reached for the emergency button again, pressing it with more force this time. “Maintenance? We’re still stuck up here. The elevator just—” Another shudder cut him off, the car lurching slightly to the left. Carolyn stumbled, her hip knocking against his, and his arm shot out, his hand gripping her elbow to steady her.

The contact was electric.

His fingers were warm through the thin fabric of her blouse, his grip firm but not tight, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Carolyn’s breath caught. She could feel the heat of his body through his suit, the faint scent of his cologne—something woodsy and expensive—wrapping around her. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and she saw the moment his pupils dilated, the way his throat worked as he swallowed.

Then, abruptly, he let go.

The loss of his touch was like a physical ache. Carolyn stepped back, her pulse hammering in her throat. “Thanks,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Toby didn’t answer. His jaw was tight, his fingers flexing at his sides as if he were fighting the urge to reach for her again. The elevator creaked ominously around them, the air thick with something more than just frustration now.

Carolyn cleared her throat, desperate to break the tension. “So. Hypothetical question.”

“Shoot.”

“If we don’t get out of here anytime soon…” She hesitated, then forced herself to meet his gaze. “What’s the first thing you’d do?”

His eyes darkened. “Besides call my lawyer?”

She smirked. “Besides that.”

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze dropping to her lips again before flicking back up. “I’d get a drink,” he said finally. “A real one. Not the swill they keep in the break room.”

“Whiskey?”

“Bourbon.” His voice was rough. “Neat.”

She nodded, her mouth dry. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The elevator shuddered once more, the lights flickering again, and this time, when the car lurched, it didn’t stop. The floor tilted beneath them, a sickening drop that sent Carolyn crashing into Toby’s chest. His arms came around her instinctively, one hand splaying against the small of her back, the other gripping her shoulder as the elevator jerked to a halt with a final, metallic scream.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

Carolyn’s hands were pressed against his chest, her fingers curled into the fabric of his suit. She could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath her palm, the warmth of his breath against her temple. His cologne wrapped around her, intoxicating, and when she tilted her head back to look at him, his face was inches from hers, his dark eyes burning with something she couldn’t name.

The emergency line crackled to life. “Maintenance to Elevator Three. We’re working on it. Hang tight.”

Toby didn’t look away from her. His thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle against the small of her back, the touch so light it might have been accidental. “We’re fine,” he said, his voice low, rough. “Just… hurry up.”

The line went dead again.

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Carolyn’s breath came in shallow bursts, her body hyperaware of every point where they touched—the press of his hand against her back, the heat of his chest beneath her palms, the way his thigh brushed hers.

“Toby,” she whispered.

His name seemed to break something in him. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into her hip as he pulled her closer, eliminating the last sliver of space between them. “Carolyn,” he murmured, her name a growl on his lips.

She should have pulled away. Should have reminded him—reminded herself—that they were coworkers, that this was inappropriate, that they were still stuck in an elevator, for God’s sake. But the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the world worth seeing, made her reckless.

“If we get out of here,” she said, her voice barely audible, “that drink better be the best damn bourbon in Manhattan.”

His mouth quirked, his breath warm against her lips. “Oh, it will be.”

And then, just as the lights flickered again, just as the elevator groaned around them, he kissed her.

Chapter Two: Stalled Elevator

The elevator shuddered violently one last time before grinding to a complete halt, the sudden silence more unsettling than the mechanical groans that had filled the space moments before. The emergency lights flickered weakly, casting long, shifting shadows across the cramped metal walls. Carolyn’s breath hitched as the reality of their situation settled over her—trapped, alone, with Toby’s body pressed against hers from the last lurch. His hands were still planted firmly on her waist, fingers digging into the fabric of her blazer, and she could feel the heat of him through the thin layers of their professional attire.

She should have pulled away. Should have smoothed her skirt, cleared her throat, and made some dry remark about workplace liability. But the way his dark eyes burned into hers, the way his thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle against the small of her back—it short-circuited every rational thought in her head.

Toby exhaled sharply, his breath warm against her temple. “Well,” he murmured, voice rough, “this is fucked.”

Carolyn swallowed. The word—crude, unfiltered—sent a jolt straight between her thighs. She’d never heard him curse before. Not like this. Not with that raw, almost hungry edge. “Understatement of the year,” she managed, but her voice came out breathier than she intended.

His lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“What, you expected me to scream?” She arched a brow, though the defiance in her tone was undercut by the way her pulse hammered in her throat.

“No,” he said slowly, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “But I did expect you to push me away by now.”

The air between them thickened. Carolyn’s fingers flexed against his chest, the crisp fabric of his shirt doing little to mask the solid muscle beneath. She could feel him—every inhale, every shift of his weight, the way his hips canted just slightly closer. The elevator’s stale air was suddenly stifling, charged with something far more dangerous than the threat of being stuck.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” she admitted, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Toby’s breath caught. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then, with a low growl, he closed the last inch between them, his mouth crashing against hers.

It wasn’t a kiss—it was a claim. His lips parted hers with demanding precision, his tongue sweeping in to taste her, deep and possessive. Carolyn gasped into him, her hands flying up to grip his shoulders, nails digging through the fabric of his suit. He tasted like bourbon and something darker, something that made her head spin. His mustache brushed against her upper lip, the sensation strangely erotic, the scrape of it sending a shiver down her spine.

A groan rumbled in his chest as she kissed him back just as fiercely, her teeth nipping at his lower lip before soothing the sting with her tongue. His hands slid up her ribs, thumbs grazing the undersides of her breasts through the thin silk of her blouse. The contact was electric, her nipples tightening instantly, aching for more. She arched into his touch, a whimper escaping her when his fingers finally—*finally*—closed around one, squeezing just hard enough to make her see stars.

“Fuck, Carolyn,” he muttered against her mouth, his voice rough with need. “You’re dripping for this, aren’t you?”

She should have denied it. Should have played coy. But the way his hips rolled against hers, the thick ridge of his cock pressing against her stomach through his slacks, left no room for lies. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “God, yes.”

That was all the permission he needed.

His hands dropped to her waist, spinning her around in the tight space until her back hit the cold metal wall of the elevator. The impact sent a jolt through her, her breath hitching as he crowded against her, his body pinning hers in place. The flickering lights painted his sharp features in stark relief, his dark eyes nearly black with hunger as he looked down at her.

“Tell me to stop,” he ordered, his voice a low rasp.

Carolyn met his gaze, her pulse roaring in her ears. She should tell him to stop. Should remember they were coworkers, that this was reckless, that they were trapped in a goddamn elevator with no idea when—or if—they’d get out.

Instead, she reached up and yanked his tie loose, the silk sliding through her fingers with a whisper. “Make me.”

A feral grin split his face. In one swift motion, he grabbed the front of her blazer and jerked her forward, sealing his mouth over hers again. This time, there was no finesse—just raw, desperate need. His teeth sank into her lower lip, just shy of painful, and Carolyn moaned, the sound swallowed by his kiss. Her hands flew to his belt, fumbling with the buckle, but he caught her wrists, pinning them above her head against the wall.

“Not yet,” he growled. “I want to see you first.”

The command sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between her thighs. She’d never been one for submission, but the way he manhandled her—like he owned her—had her body singing. “Then look,” she challenged, tilting her chin up defiantly.

His gaze raked over her, slow and deliberate, before landing on the top button of her blouse. Without breaking eye contact, he reached down and flicked it open. The cool air of the elevator car hit her exposed skin, raising goosebumps along her collarbone. One by one, he undid the rest, his fingers brushing against her with maddening slowness. When the last button gave way, he pushed the fabric apart, revealing the lace cups of her bra, the pale swell of her breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath.

“Christ,” he muttered, his voice thick. “You’re perfect.”

Before she could respond, his mouth was on her, hot and wet, sealing over the lace-covered peak of her breast. Carolyn cried out, her back arching off the wall as his tongue traced the rigid outline of her nipple. The lace was soaked through in seconds, the fabric clinging to her skin as he sucked, the sensation almost too intense. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her as he lavished attention on first one breast, then the other, his free hand kneading the flesh he wasn’t devouring.

“Toby—*fuck*—” she gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily. The friction of her skirt riding up, the cool metal of the wall against her bare back, the wet heat of his mouth—it was too much and not enough all at once.

He pulled back just long enough to yank the cups of her bra down, freeing her breasts. The air hit her damp, sensitive skin, making her shudder, but it was nothing compared to the way his calloused palms rasped over her as he palmed her, his thumbs circling her nipples in tight, punishing loops.

“You like that?” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her skin. “Like being used?”

“Yes,” she hissed, her nails scoring his scalp. “God, yes—”

He rewarded her with a sharp twist of his fingers, the bite of pain morphing into white-hot pleasure as he soothed the sting with his tongue. Carolyn’s legs trembled, her knees threatening to give out, but he was there, his thigh sliding between hers, the muscle hard and unyielding as she ground down against it.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he taunted, his voice a dark purr. “Rubbing that pretty cunt against me like you own me.”

The filthy words sent a fresh gush of wetness between her thighs. She was greedy. Starving. And the way he talked to her—like she was his to command, his to ruin—only made the hunger worse.

“Please,” she whimpered, her hips rolling in desperate little circles. “I need—”

“I know what you need,” he cut her off, his hands dropping to her skirt. The zipper gave way with a sharp snik, the sound obscenely loud in the confined space. He shoved the fabric down her hips, taking her panties with it in one rough motion. The cool air hit her bare, dripping pussy, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan.

Toby groaned, his fingers tracing the slick folds of her sex with reverent awe. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he murmured, his voice rough with wonder. “All for me?”

“Only you,” she admitted, the words torn from her.

His dark eyes flashed. “Good.”

Then his fingers were inside her, two thick digits plunging into her tight heat without warning. Carolyn cried out, her head thudding back against the wall as he curled them, hitting that spot deep inside that made her see stars. His thumb found her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles as he finger-fucked her, his pace brutal, unforgiving.

“You’re going to come for me,” he ordered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Right here, right now, with my fingers buried in this filthy little cunt. And you’re going to do it quietly, because we both know someone could hear us.”

The threat of being caught, the way his dirty words wrapped around her like a vice—it was too much. Her orgasm crashed over her with the force of a freight train, her body locking up as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her. She bit down hard on her lower lip to muffle her scream, her nails raking down his back as she rode his hand, her pussy clenching around his fingers like she never wanted to let go.

Toby didn’t stop. He kept fucking her through it, drawing out every last tremor, his breath hot against her neck. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice a dark caress. “Take what you need, baby. Use me.”

Carolyn was still trembling when he finally withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. His tongue darted out, lapping at her arousal with a groan. “Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. “I’m going to spend hours with my face between your legs once we get out of here.”

The promise sent another spike of desire through her, her pussy already aching for more. But before she could respond, the elevator lurched violently, the sudden movement sending them both stumbling. Toby’s arm shot out, bracing against the wall to keep them upright, his body shielding hers.

The lights flickered again, the emergency alarm blaring to life with a shrill, repetitive beep-beep-beep.

Carolyn’s heart hammered against her ribs, but it wasn’t fear coursing through her veins—it was adrenaline, sharp and electric. She looked up at Toby, his dark hair tousled from her fingers, his lips swollen from their kisses, and something wild and reckless unfurled in her chest.

“We’re not done,” she said, her voice steady despite the chaos around them.

A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “No,” he agreed, his hands already reaching for his belt. “We’re far from done.”

The metal clink of his buckle echoed in the tight space as he freed his cock, the thick length springing free, flushed and leaking at the tip. Carolyn’s mouth watered. She’d never seen him like this—so raw, so uncontrolled. The sight of him, so powerful and commanding even now, sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in her belly.

She didn’t wait for him to make the next move.

Dropping to her knees in front of him, she took him in her hand, her fingers barely able to wrap around his girth. The velvet-soft skin over steel had her pulse racing. She looked up at him, meeting his dark, hungry gaze as she swiped her tongue over the broad head, collecting the bead of pre-cum there.

“Fuck—” he hissed, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Carolyn hummed in response, the vibration making him twitch in her grip. She took her time, licking him like an ice cream cone, her tongue tracing the thick vein along the underside of his shaft before swirling around the crown. His taste—salty, musky, male—filled her senses, and she moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock.

“Carolyn,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m not going to last if you—*fuck*—”

She took that as a challenge.

Hollowing her cheeks, she took him deep, her lips sealing around the base as her throat opened for him. The tip hit the back of her tongue, and she swallowed around him, the movement making his hips jerk.

“Shit—*shit*—” His grip on her hair tightened, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “You’re trying to kill me.”

She pulled back with a wet pop, grinning up at him. “Not yet,” she purred, echoing his earlier words. Then she took him deep again, her hand working the base in time with her mouth, her free hand cupping his heavy balls, rolling them gently.

Toby’s control snapped.

With a growl, he hauled her to her feet, spinning her around and pressing her against the wall, her chest flush with the cold metal. His cock nestled against the crack of her ass, hot and heavy, as his hands slid up her thighs, lifting one leg to hook over his hip.

“You want to play?” he rasped, his lips against her ear. “Then take what you’ve earned.”

Carolyn barely had time to brace herself before he was inside her, his cock driving into her soaked pussy in one brutal thrust. She cried out, the sound torn from her as he filled her completely, stretching her around his thickness. The burn was exquisite, the fullness almost overwhelming, but she loved it. Loved the way he groaned, the way his fingers dug into her hips, the way he used her.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted, his hips snapping forward, his cock pistoning in and out of her with relentless precision. “Like a goddamn vice.”

Carolyn could only whimper in response, her fingers scrambling for purchase against the slick metal wall. Every thrust sent her breasts bouncing, the friction of the wall against her sensitive nipples adding another layer of sensation. She could feel her orgasm building again, coiling tight and hot in her core, his cock hitting that perfect spot with every deep, punishing stroke.

“Come for me again,” he demanded, his voice a dark command. “I want to feel you milk my cock.”

The filthy words sent her tumbling over the edge. Her pussy clenched around him, her inner walls fluttering as her climax ripped through her. Toby groaned, his pace stuttering as her body pulsed around him, but he didn’t stop. He fucked her through it, drawing out every last tremor until she was a boneless, trembling mess in his arms.

Only then did he let go, his release hitting him with the force of a sledgehammer. He buried himself to the hilt, his cock jerking as he spilled inside her, his cum filling her in hot, thick pulses. Carolyn could feel it—feel him—branding her from the inside out.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The only sounds were their ragged breaths and the distant, muffled shouts from somewhere beyond the elevator doors. Toby’s forehead dropped to her shoulder, his body heavy against hers, his cock still twitching inside her.

Then, with a low chuckle, he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “Well,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. “That was productive.”

Carolyn let out a breathless laugh, her body still humming with aftershocks. “I’ll add it to my billable hours.”

The elevator lurched again, the lights flickering back to full brightness as the car gave a violent jerk—and then, with a grinding groan of metal, it began to descend.

Toby pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression unreadable. “We’re moving.”

Carolyn’s pulse spiked, but not from fear. From the realization that once those doors opened, the real world would come rushing back in. And she wasn’t ready to let this—*him*—go.

Not yet.

She reached up, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Then we’d better make the most of it,” she whispered.

His slow, wicked smile was all the answer she needed.

Chapter Three: Caged Heat

The elevator shuddered again, its descent uneven, the cables groaning like a living thing resisting its own weight. Carolyn’s back pressed against the cold metal wall, her breath still ragged from the last climax that had left her trembling. Toby stood close, his forehead resting against hers, his dark eyes searching hers in the flickering emergency light. The air between them was thick—not just with the musk of sex, but with something heavier, something neither of them had named yet.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing the open collar of his shirt, the warm skin beneath. “We should probably…” she started, but the words died in her throat. What? Put themselves back together? Pretend this never happened? The thought made her stomach twist.

Toby’s thumb brushed her lower lip, still swollen from his kisses, his mustache, the rough drag of his stubble. “Probably,” he murmured, but he didn’t move. His other hand slid down her side, over the curve of her hip, his touch possessive but slower now, like he was memorizing the shape of her. The elevator lurched, and Carolyn’s nails dug into his shoulders instinctively, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. Toby groaned, low and rough, his cock twitching against her thigh where it still strained against the confines of his half-undone pants.

She should’ve been embarrassed—standing there with her blouse gaping open, her bra pushed aside, her skirt still hitched up around her waist—but she wasn’t. Not with the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the world worth seeing. Not with the way his breath hitched when her fingers drifted lower, teasing the waistband of his slacks.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

Carolyn tilted her head, her lips curling into something dangerous. “You’re the one who started it.”

“And you’re the one who didn’t stop me,” he shot back, but there was no bite to it, just a raw edge of need. His hand slid up her ribs, his thumb grazing the underside of her breast, and she arched into the touch, a shiver running through her.

The elevator jolted again, the lights flickering violently before steadying into a dim, sickly glow. Somewhere above them, the alarm still blared, muffled but insistent—a reminder that the real world was waiting. That people were waiting. The thought should’ve sobered her. Instead, it made her bolder.

“I’ve wanted this for longer than I care to admit,” she confessed, the words spilling out before she could stop them. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she didn’t look away. She couldn’t. Not when his pupils dilated, not when his grip on her waist tightened like he was afraid she’d vanish if he let go.

Toby’s breath stuttered. For a second, she thought he wouldn’t answer, that he’d shut down, retreat behind that wall of professional detachment he wore like armor. But then his fingers flexed against her skin, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “You think I haven’t?”

Carolyn’s pulse jumped. “You’ve been fighting it?”

His laugh was bitter, self-deprecating. “For months.” His hand cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. “Every time you walked into my office with those goddamn heels clicking, every time you leaned over my desk to point out some detail I’d missed—” His grip tightened, just shy of painful. “I’d have to spend the next hour pretending I wasn’t hard just from the sound of your voice.”

The admission sent a rush of heat through her, pooling low in her belly. She’d suspected, of course—had hoped, in her darker, quieter moments—but hearing it from him, raw and unfiltered, was something else entirely. It made her feel powerful. Wanted. Not just as a convenient fuck in a broken elevator, but as herself.

“Then why—” she started, but he cut her off with a kiss, slow and deep, his mustache abrading her upper lip. When he pulled back, his dark eyes burned into hers.

“Because I knew,” he growled. “One taste, and I wouldn’t be able to stop.” His other hand slid up her thigh, his fingers teasing the lace of her thong, already damp again. “And now look at us.”

Carolyn’s breath hitched as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric, finding her slick and swollen. She rocked into his touch, her nails scraping down his chest. “Look at us,” she echoed, her voice husky. “Trapped in an elevator, half-dressed, with your fingers inside me and your cock still hard enough to cut glass.” She rolled her hips, taking him deeper, and his breath stuttered. “You really think this is the time to slow down?”

Toby’s chuckle was dark, his fingers curling inside her just right, making her gasp. “Oh, we’re not slowing down, Carolyn.” His thumb found her clit, circling lazily, maddeningly. “We’re just not rushing anymore.”

The words sent a thrill through her. Because he was right. Before, it had been frantic, desperate—a collision of need and opportunity. But now? Now it was choice. A deliberate unraveling.

She reached for his belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle. “Then take your fucking pants off,” she demanded, her voice rough. “I want to see you.”

Toby didn’t argue. He stepped back just enough to shove his slacks and boxers down his thighs, his cock springing free, thick and flushed, the tip already glistening. Carolyn’s mouth watered. She’d had him in her mouth, had felt him stretch her, fill her, but seeing him like this—fully exposed, fully hers—was different. It made her bold.

She sank to her knees in front of him, her hands sliding up his thighs. The elevator lurched again, the floor tilting beneath her, but she didn’t care. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock, her thumb swiping over the slick crown, and looked up at him through her lashes. “You’ve been fighting this for months,” she murmured, her breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. “What else have you been denying yourself?”

Toby’s jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides like he was fighting the urge to grab her. “Carolyn—”

She didn’t let him finish. She leaned in, her tongue dragging up the thick vein on the underside of his cock, slow and deliberate. Toby hissed, his hips jerking forward before he caught himself. “Fuck, your mouth—”

She hummed around the tip, the vibration making him twitch, and then took him deeper, her lips sealing around the crown. His hands finally gave in, tangling in her hair, not guiding, just holding, like he needed the anchor. Carolyn hollowed her cheeks, taking him inch by inch, her throat opening for him. She’d done this before—had taken him deep, had swallowed around him—but this wasn’t about speed or skill. This was about worship.

Toby’s breath came in ragged bursts, his thighs trembling. “You’re going to make me come like this,” he warned, his voice strained.

Carolyn pulled back just enough to speak, her lips brushing the head of his cock. “Good.” Then she took him again, her tongue swirling, her fingers cupping his balls, rolling them gently. She could taste the salt of him, the musk of his arousal, and it made her hungry. She wanted to drink him down, wanted to feel him lose control because of her.

“Carolyn, fuck—” His grip in her hair tightened, his hips stuttering forward. She took him to the root, her nose pressing against the dark curls at the base, and swallowed. Toby groaned, a guttural sound torn from his chest, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing against her tongue, his cum hot and thick down her throat. She swallowed every drop, her fingers digging into his ass to keep him close, milking him until he was shuddering, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

When she finally pulled back, licking her lips, Toby’s eyes were dark with something more than just satisfaction. He hauled her to her feet, his mouth crashing into hers, his tongue sweeping in to taste himself on her. Carolyn moaned into the kiss, her body pressing against his, her nipples hard against his chest.

“My turn,” he growled against her lips, and then he was spinning her, pressing her against the wall. His hands went to her skirt, shoving it the rest of the way down her legs, leaving her in nothing but her thong and her unbuttoned blouse. The cool metal of the elevator wall bit into her bare skin, but she barely noticed. Not when Toby was dropping to his knees in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs, spreading her open.

“You’re dripping,” he murmured, his breath hot against her lace-covered pussy. “Been like this the whole time, haven’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. His teeth closed around the fabric of her thong, and with one sharp tug, he ripped it away.

Carolyn gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders for balance. The elevator lurched again, the lights flickering wildly, but all she could focus on was the sight of Toby between her legs, his dark eyes locked on hers as he leaned in, his tongue dragging up her slit in one long, slow stroke.

“Oh, god—” Her head fell back against the wall, her hips jerking forward. Toby’s hands slid under her ass, lifting her slightly, giving him better access, and then his mouth was on her, devouring her. His tongue speared into her, fucking her in deep, rhythmic strokes, and Carolyn cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair. He groaned against her, the vibration making her clit throb, and then his lips sealed around it, sucking hard.

“Toby, please—” She was already close, her body coiling tight, the pleasure almost painful in its intensity. He didn’t let up. His fingers joined his mouth, two of them sliding inside her, curling against her G-spot as his tongue lashed her clit. Carolyn’s vision whited out, her orgasm crashing over her, her cry echoing in the confined space. Toby didn’t stop, drinking down every drop of her release, his fingers working her through it until she was boneless, trembling, her legs barely holding her up.

When he finally pulled back, his lips glistened with her arousal, his dark eyes burning into hers. “Mine,” he growled, the word a possessive claim, and Carolyn’s heart stuttered.

Yes, she wanted to say. Yours.

But the elevator chose that moment to jolt violently, the lights flickering back to full brightness as the car slowed, the distant sound of voices growing louder. Reality was intruding, sharp and unwelcome.

Toby’s expression darkened, but he didn’t move. His hands still gripped her hips, his thumbs tracing slow circles on her skin. “We’re almost there,” he murmured, but it wasn’t a warning. It was a promise.

Carolyn reached for him, her fingers brushing his jaw. “Then we’d better make the most of it,” she whispered, and Toby’s smile was wicked, his hands already reaching for her again. The elevator could wait. The world could wait.

Right now, there was only this. Only them.

Chapter Four: Velvet and Steel

The elevator’s descent had turned the air thick, the kind of heat that clung to skin and made every breath feel like a slow drag of velvet. Carolyn’s blouse was still unbuttoned, the fabric clinging to the damp curve of her breasts, her nipples hard beneath the lace of her bra. The scent of sex—musky, salt-sweet—filled the space, mixing with the metallic tang of the elevator’s old cables and the faint, acrid bite of lubricant from the machinery. Toby’s cock, half-hard and glistening with her spit, twitched as the car shuddered to a near-stop, the brakes whining like a protest.

She didn’t wait for the final jolt.

Her palm slammed into his chest, shoving him back against the wall with enough force that the breath punched out of him. The cold metal bit into his shoulder blades, but the sting only made his cock throb harder. Carolyn loomed over him, her green eyes dark with something feral, her lips still swollen from his kiss, her chin shiny with the remnants of his come. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The way her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, twisting just enough to make the buttons strain, said everything.

Mine.

Toby’s hands hovered at his sides, his instincts screaming to grab her, to flip her onto her knees, to remind her who usually ran this show. But the look on her face—the sheer, unapologetic hunger—rooted him in place. His cock jerked, thickening under her gaze, the head darkening, a fresh bead of precome welling at the slit. Carolyn’s tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip as she tracked the movement.

“Been waiting to see this,” she murmured, her voice rough, like gravel under silk. Her knuckles grazed the waistband of his pants, then hooked beneath the fabric, yanking it down in one sharp motion. His boxers followed, the elastic snapping against his thighs before pooling at his ankles. His cock sprang free, already heavy, the vein along the underside throbbing. Carolyn didn’t touch him. Not yet. Instead, her nails dragged down the inside of his thigh, slow enough to make his muscles jump, hard enough to leave faint red lines in their wake.

Toby’s breath hitched, his fingers curling into fists. “Carolyn—”

“Shut up.” Her thumb pressed into the crease where his thigh met his groin, massaging slow, deliberate circles that sent a jolt straight to his balls. “You’ve had your turn. Now it’s mine.”

The words landed like a whip-crack, his cock twitching violently. Fuck, he loved when she got like this—when the polished, professional veneer cracked, and the woman beneath took what she wanted. His pulse hammered in his throat, his skin too tight, too sensitive, every nerve ending alight under her touch. He wanted to grab her hair, to shove himself into that perfect, filthy mouth, to fuck her until she gagged—but the way she was looking at him, like she owned every inch of his body, kept him still.

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Good boy.”

The praise hit him like a punch to the gut, his cock jerking, a fresh surge of precome dripping onto her fingers. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d craved that—her approval, her dominance, the way she could reduce him to nothing but need with two syllables. His chest heaved, his muscles locking as she finally—finally—wrapped her fingers around his shaft, her grip firm, her thumb smearing the precome over his crown in slow, maddening strokes.

“Look at you,” she purred, her breath ghosting over the sensitive head. “So desperate. So hard for me.”

Toby’s jaw clenched, a growl building in his chest. He wanted to argue, to flip the script, to remind her who usually called the shots—but then her tongue flicked out, lapping at the slit, and his thoughts dissolved into static. His hips rolled forward without permission, chasing the heat of her mouth, and she let out a dark chuckle, her free hand slapping his thigh hard enough to leave a sting.

“Uh-uh. My pace.”

She didn’t give him time to process the sting before her lips parted, her tongue flattening against the underside of his cock as she took him into her mouth. Not all at once—no, she was too cruel for that. She worked him in slow, shallow strokes, her lips sealing tight around the crown, her tongue swirling over the ridge before pulling back with an obscene pop. Toby’s fingers twitched, hovering just above her head, his entire body trembling with the effort of not grabbing her.

“Fuck—Carolyn—”

Her name was a prayer, a curse, a plea, but she ignored him, her nails digging into his ass as she pulled him deeper. Her throat opened around him, wet and tight, and Toby’s vision whited out for a second, his cock hitting the back of her throat with a wet, filthy sound. She swallowed around him, her muscles clenching, and his knees nearly buckled.

“Shit—shit—” His voice was raw, his hands finally giving in, his fingers tangling in her hair—not to guide her, but to hold on, his knuckles white. She hummed in approval, the vibration traveling straight to his balls, and then she was pulling back, her lips dragging along his shaft with deliberate slowness, her tongue tracing the thick vein on the underside.

“You like that?” she murmured, her breath hot against his damp skin. “You like when I take what I want?”

Toby’s answer was a broken groan, his hips jerking forward helplessly. She laughed, low and dark, before taking him back into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him deep. Her free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently, her fingers teasing the sensitive skin behind them. The dual sensation had him panting, his thighs shaking, his cock throbbing in her grip.

“Gonna come just from this,” he gasped, the words torn from him. “Fuck, Carolyn, I—”

She pulled off with a wet sound, her lips glistening. “Not yet.”

His protest died in his throat as she stood abruptly, her body pressing flush against his. Her skirt was still hitched up, her thighs slick, and when she ground her hip against his cock, the friction made him hiss. Her mouth crashed into his, her tongue invading, tasting like him, like sin. Toby groaned into the kiss, his hands finally giving in, gripping her waist, her ass, anything to anchor himself as she rocked against him, her clit dragging against his shaft with every movement.

“You’re mine,” she growled against his lips, her teeth nipping his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The copper tang mixed with the taste of her, of him, of them, and Toby’s cock pulsed, his orgasm coiled tight in his gut, ready to snap.

But then she was dropping back to her knees, her hands shoving his thighs apart, her nails biting into his skin. “Come for me,” she ordered, her voice a whip-crack. “Now.”

Her mouth sealed around him, her tongue swirling over the head, and Toby’s control shattered. His hands flew to her hair, his fingers twisting in the short strands as his hips snapped forward, fucking her face with short, desperate thrusts. She took it all, her throat opening for him, her fingers digging into his ass, pulling him deeper.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m—”

His warning was cut off by a broken cry as his orgasm hit, his cock jerking violently between her lips. She swallowed around him, her throat working, milking him through every pulse, every shuddering spurt. Toby’s vision blurred, his body locking up as pleasure wrung him dry, his come spilling down her throat in thick, hot waves.

Carolyn didn’t pull away until he was spent, his cock softening in her mouth. She licked her lips, her eyes locked on his, her expression smug, satisfied. “Good boy,” she repeated, her thumb brushing over his oversensitive head, making him flinch.

Toby’s chest heaved, his back still pressed against the wall, his body boneless. He should’ve felt embarrassed—undone by a few words, by the way she’d looked at him, by the way she’d owned him. But all he felt was more. More hunger. More need. More of her.

The elevator lurched, the brakes engaging with a metallic screech, and the car jerked to a stop. Distant voices filtered through the doors, the muffled sounds of the maintenance crew growing louder.

Carolyn’s smirk faltered for half a second before she schooled her expression, her professional mask slipping back into place. But not before Toby saw it—the flicker of something raw, something real.

He reached for her, his fingers brushing her jaw, his thumb smearing the smear of lipstick from her lower lip. “We’re not done,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Her eyelashes fluttered, her breath hitching—but then the voices outside grew clearer, the sound of tools clanking against the doors.

Carolyn exhaled sharply, pulling back. “We will be if we don’t move.”

Toby didn’t let go. Not yet. His fingers tightened on her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I meant what I said. No more rushing. No more hiding.” His thumb pressed against her lips, parting them slightly. “You’re mine, Carolyn. And I’m yours.”

The words hung between them, heavy, irreversible. The voices outside grew louder, the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Carolyn’s tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t name. Fear. Desire. Possession.

“Prove it,” she whispered.

The doors began to slide open.

Toby grinned, his fingers finally releasing her. “Oh, I will.”

The first sliver of fluorescent light from the lobby cut through the dim elevator, illuminating Carolyn’s flushed cheeks, her disheveled blouse, the way her lips were still slightly parted, as if she could still taste him. Toby didn’t bother to adjust his pants yet. Let them see. Let them know.

A maintenance worker’s face appeared in the gap, his eyes widening as he took in the scene—Carolyn’s rumpled suit, Toby’s half-hard cock still glistening, the unmistakable scent of sex clinging to the air.

“Uh—” The man’s voice cracked. “Elevator’s fixed. You folks alright?”

Toby’s grin widened. He stepped forward, his body shielding Carolyn as he tucked himself back into his pants with deliberate slowness. “We’re perfect.”

Carolyn’s breath hitched behind him, her fingers brushing against the small of his back—a silent command, a warning, a promise. Toby zipped up, his movements unhurried, his gaze locked on the flustered worker.

“Have a good night,” he said, his voice smooth, amused.

The doors slid shut behind them as they stepped into the lobby, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat still radiating between them. Carolyn’s heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, her posture straightening, her mask of professionalism slipping back into place. But Toby caught the way her fingers trembled slightly as she buttoned her blouse, the way her breath still came a little too fast.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “My place. Now.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The way her thighs pressed together, the way her pulse jumped in her throat—it was answer enough.

Toby smirked, stepping back just enough to let her lead the way. But his hand found the small of her back, his fingers pressing possessively against the fabric of her blouse.

Mine.

And this time, she didn’t argue.

Chapter Five: Mark of Hunger

The elevator doors slid shut behind them with a quiet ding, sealing the lingering scent of sex and sweat inside the metal box. Carolyn didn’t wait. The second Toby’s hand left the small of her back—just long enough for the maintenance worker’s footsteps to fade down the hall—she spun, pressing him against the cold marble wall of the lobby. The polished surface bit into his shoulder blades as she crowded against him, her body a line of heat from chest to thigh. Her fingers curled into the lapels of his rumpled suit jacket, yanking him down until their mouths were a breath apart.

“You think we’re done?” Her voice was a velvet rasp, low enough that only he could hear. The fluorescent lights above cast sharp shadows under her cheekbones, turning her green eyes into something feral. “You came in my mouth like a good boy, but that doesn’t mean I’m finished with you.”

Toby’s breath hitched, his dark eyes flickering with the same hunger that had driven him to his knees for her in the elevator. But now, the roles had reversed again—her turn to take, her turn to mark. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers flexing like he wanted to grab her, pin her, own her—but he didn’t. Not yet. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he held himself back, letting her lead.

Carolyn smirked. She could feel the restraint humming through him, the way his thighs tensed under her touch. Slowly, deliberately, she dragged her nails down the front of his shirt, tracing the outline of his cock through the fabric of his slacks. He was already half-hard again, thick and heavy, the zipper straining. Her lips brushed the shell of his ear as she whispered, “Tell me what you’re going to do to me when we’re alone.”

The words sent a shudder through him. His hands finally moved—not to push her away, but to grip the marble ledge behind him, knuckles whitening. “Fuck, Carolyn—” His voice was rough, the sound of a man teetering on the edge of control. “I’m going to bend you over the first flat surface I find and ruin you for anyone else. Spread you open so I can see that pretty cunt weeping for me, then fuck you until you’re sobbing my name.” His breath was hot against her neck, his words filthy and precise, painting a picture that made her thighs clench. “And when you’re trembling and oversensitive, when you can’t take another inch? That’s when I’ll flip you onto your back, pin your wrists above your head, and make you watch while I fuck those perfect tits until I paint them white.”

A whimper escaped her before she could stop it. Her pussy throbbed, soaked through the lace of her panties, the memory of his mouth between her legs in the elevator still fresh. She could taste herself on his tongue if she kissed him now. The thought made her bold. Her fingers dropped to his belt, flicking the buckle open with practiced ease. The metallic clink of the leather sliding free was obscenely loud in the empty lobby.

“Good,” she murmured, dragging the zipper down. His cock sprang free, already flushed and leaking, the head glistening under the harsh lights. She wrapped her fingers around the base, squeezing just tight enough to make him hiss. “Because I like when you talk like that.” Her thumb swiped over the slit, gathering the bead of pre-cum there, then brought it to her lips. She licked it off slowly, never breaking eye contact. “But you forgot one thing.”

Toby’s chest heaved, his gaze locked on her mouth. “What’s that?”

She tightened her grip, stroking him from root to tip with a twist of her wrist that made his hips jerk. “You’re going to beg me for it first.”

A growl tore from his throat, low and possessive. His hand shot out, tangling in her hair, yanking her close enough that their lips brushed. “Careful, Carolyn,” he warned, voice a dark purr. “Push me too far, and I’ll have you on your knees in the middle of this lobby, choking on my cock while the security cameras record every fucking second.”

The threat sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. She could feel how wet she was, the lace sticking to her folds, her clit throbbing with every beat of her heart. But she didn’t back down. Instead, she leaned in, her lips grazing the pulse point beneath his jaw. “Promises, promises,” she taunted, before sinking to her knees right there in the open.

Toby’s breath stuttered as she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the crown before she hollowed her cheeks and took him deep. The marble floor was cold beneath her knees, the sound of her heels clicking against the stone sharp in the silence. She could hear the distant hum of the building—the elevator ding of another floor, the murmur of voices from the reception area—but none of it mattered. There was only the weight of him on her tongue, the salty taste of his skin, the way his fingers tightened in her hair when she swallowed around the head.

“Fuck—Carolyn—” His voice was a guttural rasp, his free hand slamming against the wall for balance. She pulled back just enough to lap at the underside of his cock, her nails digging into his thighs. “You’re going to get us caught.”

She hummed around him, the vibration making his hips twitch. “Then you’d better be quiet,” she murmured, before taking him to the back of her throat again. Her other hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently, feeling the way they drew up tight as she worked him. She could taste the salt of his skin, the musk of his arousal, and it made her hungry. She wanted to swallow every drop, wanted to feel him lose control because of her, wanted to mark him as thoroughly as he’d marked her in the elevator.

But this wasn’t just about pleasure. It was about power.

She pulled off with a wet pop, her lips swollen, her chin glossy with spit. “Tell me again,” she demanded, stroking him slowly, her thumb pressing into the vein on the underside. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me when we’re alone.”

Toby’s eyes were black with lust, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I’m going to tie you to my bed,” he ground out, his voice rough with need. “Spread you open and eat that cunt until you’re screaming. Then I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.” His hand tightened in her hair, guiding her back to his cock. “And when you’re begging me to stop, when you’re sore and trembling and can’t take anymore? That’s when I’ll start all over again.”

A shiver ran down her spine, her pussy clenching around nothing. She could feel how close he was, the way his cock pulsed in her grip, the way his breath came in short, sharp gasps. She wanted to push him over the edge, wanted to watch him unravel—but not here. Not like this.

With one last, slow lick up the length of him, she stood, her skirt riding up her thighs as she rose. Toby’s hand fell away from her hair, his expression dazed, his cock jutting out obscenely between them. She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “Good. Because I dare you to try.”

Then she struck.

Her teeth sank into the tender skin where his neck met his shoulder, sharp and possessive. Toby groaned, his body jerking against hers, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his arms banded around her, holding her flush against him as she sucked hard, marking him. The taste of him—salt and musk and something uniquely Toby—filled her mouth, and she wanted. Wanted to bite down harder, wanted to leave bruises all over him, wanted to claim him so thoroughly that every time he looked in the mirror, he’d see her.

When she finally pulled back, his skin was dark with the promise of a hickey, his breath ragged. His fingers dug into her hips, his cock still throbbing between them, leaking onto her skirt. “You’re a fucking menace,” he muttered, but there was no heat in it. Only awe. Only need.

Carolyn smirked, adjusting her blouse with deliberate slowness, her fingers trembling just slightly. “And you love it.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he tucked himself back into his pants with a wince, his movements stiff. The zipper caught for a second before he forced it up, the bulge still obvious. His tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled, his hair tousled from her fingers. He looked ruined. And he didn’t give a damn.

His hand found the small of her back again, possessive and warm, as he guided her toward the lobby’s exit. The security desk was just visible through the glass doors, the guard engrossed in his phone. Carolyn’s heels clicked against the marble, the sound too loud, too telling. She could feel the weight of Toby’s mark on her neck, the ache between her thighs, the way her pulse still raced.

“My place,” Toby murmured, his lips brushing her temple. “Now.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

The doors slid open ahead of them, the Manhattan evening spilling in—honking cabs, the hum of traffic, the distant wail of a siren. The real world. But for the first time, it felt like a backdrop. Something distant. Unimportant.

Because the only thing that mattered was the way Toby’s hand burned through the fabric of her blouse, the way his mark throbbed on her skin, the way her body ached for everything he’d promised.

And she was going to make him deliver.

Every.

Filthy.

Word.

Chapter Six: Feast of Sin

The elevator doors had barely closed behind them when Toby’s patience snapped. The second the apartment door clicked shut, his hands were on her—one fisted in Carolyn’s hair, the other slamming against the wall beside her head as he crowded her against the cool plaster. The force of it knocked the breath from her lungs, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, her lips curled into a smirk, her green eyes flashing with challenge as she arched into him.

“Took you long enough,” she taunted, her voice husky, fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt.

Toby didn’t answer with words. His mouth crashed onto hers, a bruising kiss that tasted of whiskey and the lingering salt of her from the lobby. His tongue forced its way past her lips, claiming her with a roughness that made her whimper into him. She bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, hard enough to draw a growl from his chest. His grip in her hair tightened, yanking her head back just enough to break the kiss.

“You think you’re in charge here?” His voice was a dark rasp, his breath hot against her ear. “After what you pulled in that lobby? You’re going to pay for making me wait.”

Carolyn’s laugh was low, breathless. “Promises, promises.”

That was all the provocation he needed.

His hands dropped to her blouse, fingers working frantically at the buttons. The fabric gave way under his urgency, the last few popping free as he tore it open. The lace of her bra was next—black, delicate, barely containing the swell of her breasts. He traced the edge with his thumb, watching as her nipples hardened beneath the sheer material.

“Fucking tease,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. Then his hand was under the cup, palming her breast with a possessive squeeze. Carolyn gasped, her back arching off the wall as his thumb rolled over her nipple, pinching just hard enough to make her hiss.

“Toby—”

“Shut up.” His other hand slid down, gripping her thigh just above the knee before hitching her skirt up around her hips. The air was cool against her exposed skin, but she barely noticed—all she could focus on was the heat of his body pressed against hers, the way his cock strained against his slacks, thick and demanding through the fabric.

Then his fingers were there, dragging along the damp lace of her panties. “Already so fucking wet for me,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. “Did you like that, Carolyn? Did you like sucking my cock in public like a good little slut?”

She should’ve slapped him. Should’ve told him to fuck off. But the words died in her throat as his fingers slipped beneath the lace, two of them pressing inside her without warning. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body clenching around him instinctively.

“Fuck—yes—” The word broke from her in a moan, her hips rocking against his hand.

Toby didn’t let her ride his fingers for long. With a growl, he hooked his arm under her knees and lifted her effortlessly, spinning them toward the kitchen. The counter hit the backs of her thighs a second later, the cold marble a shock against her bare skin. She barely had time to process it before his hands were on her again, spreading her legs wide.

“Keep them open,” he ordered, his voice a dark command.

Carolyn obeyed, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she watched him drop to his knees in front of her. The sight of him there—suit rumpled, tie still askew from her hands in the lobby, dark eyes locked on the apex of her thighs—sent a fresh wave of heat through her.

Then his mouth was on her.

Not a teasing lick. Not a slow buildup. His tongue dragged up her slit in one long, flat stroke, from her entrance to her clit, and Carolyn’s back bowed off the counter with a cry. His hands clamped down on her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to bruise as he did it again. And again. Relentless. Hungry. The scruff of his mustache abraded her sensitive skin, the contrast of soft and rough making her whimper.

“Toby, fuck—”

His answer was a growl against her pussy, the vibration making her tremble. Then his lips sealed around her clit, sucking hard, and her hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands like a lifeline. He didn’t let up, his tongue flicking in quick, punishing strokes while his fingers finally—finally—pushed inside her again.

“You’re dripping,” he murmured against her, his breath hot. “Dripping for my mouth like the greedy little whore you are.”

Carolyn sobbed, her hips jerking against his face. “More—please—”

He gave her more. His fingers curled inside her, finding that spot that made her see stars, while his mouth worked her clit with a precision that had her thighs shaking. She could feel the wet sounds of him eating her out, the obscene slurping noises mixing with her broken moans.

“Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name,” he promised, his voice muffled against her. “Then I’m gonna fuck this tight cunt until you’re begging me to stop.”

“Yes—yes—” She was babbling now, her fingers twisting in his hair, her body coiling tight. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—”

He didn’t. If anything, he doubled down, his free hand coming up to pinch her nipple through the lace of her bra. The sharp pain sent her over the edge with a scream, her orgasm crashing over her in a wave of white-hot pleasure. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, her thighs locking around his head as she rode his face through it, her cries filling the apartment.

Toby didn’t let her come down. He kept licking, kept sucking, drawing out every last tremor until she was a boneless, panting mess on the counter. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening with her, his dark eyes burning into hers.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. Then another. Higher. Higher still, until his teeth grazed the sensitive skin just below her hip bone.

Carolyn jolted, her body oversensitive, but she didn’t tell him to stop. She couldn’t. Not when his hands were sliding up her ribs, pushing the cups of her bra aside to expose her breasts. Not when his mouth closed around one nipple, his tongue swirling before he bit down just enough to make her gasp.

“You taste like sin,” he growled, switching to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. His hands were everywhere—squeezing, pinching, claiming. “And you’re mine.”

She should’ve argued. Should’ve reminded him that she was the one who’d had him on his knees in the lobby. But the words died in her throat as his fingers found her pussy again, slipping inside with ease.

“Still so wet,” he groaned. “Still so fucking tight.”

Carolyn’s head fell back as his thumb circled her clit, her body already winding up again. “Toby, I can’t—”

“You can,” he ordered, his voice a dark command. “You’ll take every fucking orgasm I give you.”

And she did.

His fingers worked her mercilessly, his mouth back on her breasts, biting and sucking until she was writhing beneath him. The second climax hit her harder than the first, her back arching off the counter as she came with a broken cry, her nails raking down his back.

Toby didn’t give her time to recover. He stood abruptly, his hands going to his belt. The sound of his zipper was obscenely loud in the quiet apartment. Carolyn’s eyes locked onto his cock as he freed it, thick and flushed, the head already glistening with pre-cum.

“Look at you,” he groaned, stroking himself once, twice. “Spread out for me like a fucking feast.”

She should’ve been embarrassed. Should’ve covered herself. But she didn’t. She stayed just like that—legs spread, breasts exposed, her pussy still throbbing from his mouth—as he stepped between her thighs.

The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, and Carolyn’s breath hitched.

“Tell me you want it,” he demanded, his voice rough.

She met his gaze, her lips curling into a smirk despite the way her body ached for him. “Make me.”

Toby’s eyes darkened. Then his hand was in her hair again, yanking her head back as he surged forward in one brutal thrust.

Carolyn screamed.

He was big—stretching her, filling her in a way that bordered on pain. But it was the good kind of pain, the kind that made her claws dig into his shoulders, her legs wrap around his waist.

“Fuck,” Toby groaned, his forehead pressing against hers. “You feel perfect.”

She didn’t get a chance to respond. He pulled back and slammed into her again, setting a punishing rhythm that had the counter creaking beneath them. Every thrust hit deep, his cock dragging against that spot inside her that made her see stars.

“You’re mine, Carolyn,” he growled, his hips snapping against hers. “Say it.”

She should’ve refused. Should’ve told him to go to hell. But the words tore from her lips without thought. “Yours—fuck, I’m yours—”

His hand tightened in her hair, his other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise as he fucked her through another orgasm, this one so intense her vision whited out. She distantly heard him groan her name as he came, his cock pulsing inside her as he spilled deep.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Toby stayed buried inside her, his breath ragged against her neck. Carolyn’s fingers traced idle patterns on his back, her body still humming with aftershocks.

Then he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes burning with something that went beyond lust.

“Still think you’re in charge?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her swollen lips.

Carolyn smirked, despite the way her body ached in the best possible way. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Seven: Hunger and Harness

The kitchen counter still bore the faint imprint of Carolyn’s body, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat, but Toby wasn’t done with her. Not by a long shot. His arms tightened around her as he carried her toward the bedroom, her weight slight against his chest, her breath warm against his neck. She was pliant in his hold, her usual sharp edges softened by the orgasms he’d wrung from her, but he knew better than to mistake her silence for submission. Not yet.

The bedroom door swung open under his shoulder, the hinges whispering as they gave way. Inside, the space was bathed in the dim glow of the city lights filtering through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. He didn’t bother with the lamp. He wanted her in the dark, where every touch, every breath, would be magnified. Where he could feel her more than see her.

He lowered her onto the bed with deliberate slowness, letting her body slide against his until her back met the mattress. She landed with a soft exhale, her legs parting slightly, an unconscious invitation. Her skirt was still hitched up around her waist, her torn blouse gaping open to reveal the lace bra he’d exposed earlier, now damp with sweat and the faint sheen of his saliva where he’d bitten her nipples. The sight made his cock twitch, already hardening again despite how thoroughly he’d just fucked her.

Carolyn watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, her lips parted, swollen from his kisses. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth—challenging him—but she didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The way her fingers curled into the sheets, the way her thighs trembled as she let them fall open just a little wider—it all said the same thing: Prove it.

Toby knelt on the bed between her legs, his hands going to the waistband of her skirt. He didn’t rush. He hooked his fingers into the fabric and dragged it down her hips with agonizing precision, the material whispering against her skin. Her panties were ruined—soaked through, the lace clinging to her pussy, the crotch darkened with her arousal and the evidence of how thoroughly he’d made her come. He didn’t remove them yet. Instead, he traced a finger along the damp fabric, pressing just enough to make her breath hitch.

“You’re still wet,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Still aching for it.”

Carolyn arched into his touch, her back lifting off the bed for a fleeting second before she forced herself to still. “Maybe I am.”

His fingers tightened on the waistband of her panties. “Maybe you should beg.”

She laughed, low and throaty, but there was no real defiance in it—just the ghost of her usual fire, banked now beneath the weight of her desire. “Make me.”

Toby’s mouth twisted. Oh, she wanted to play. Fine. He’d play.

He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and peeled them down her thighs, slow enough that the cool air hit her exposed pussy before the fabric cleared her knees. She was glistening, her lips swollen, her clit still flushed from his mouth. He could smell her—musky and sweet, the scent of her arousal mixing with the salt of his own sweat. His cock throbbed, straining against his slacks, but he ignored it. This wasn’t about him. Not yet.

He tossed the panties aside and settled his hands on her inner thighs, pushing them apart until she was spread open for him, completely bared. The bed dipped as he shifted closer, his breath hot against her skin. “Look at you,” he said, his voice a dark caress. “So pretty. So fucking greedy.” His thumbs brushed over her lips, parting her further, exposing the slick pink flesh beneath. She shuddered, her hips jerking upward instinctively, but he pressed a hand to her lower stomach, pinning her down. “Stay still.”

Carolyn’s breath came faster, her chest rising and falling with each shallow inhale. “Or what?”

His fingers slid lower, circling her entrance without penetrating. “Or I stop.”

A whimper escaped her, high and needy, before she could bite it back. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, her knuckles white. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

She glared at him, but there was no real heat in it—just desperation, the same kind that had her thighs trembling around his hands. “Fuck you.”

Toby chuckled, low and dark, and finally—finally—slid a finger inside her. She was tight, her walls clenching around him immediately, as if her body was trying to pull him deeper. “That’s the idea, sweetheart.”

Carolyn gasped, her back arching again, but she didn’t close her legs. Didn’t push him away. Instead, her hands flew to his wrists, her nails digging in—not to stop him, but to anchor herself. “More,” she demanded, her voice rough.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He added a second finger, curling them inside her, finding that spot that made her eyes roll back. Her moan was raw, broken, her hips lifting off the bed as she tried to ride his hand. He let her for a moment, watching the way her tits bounced with each desperate thrust, the way her mouth fell open on a silent cry. Then he stilled his fingers, pressing deep but not moving.

“Toby—” His name was a plea, a curse.

“Shh.” He leaned down, his lips brushing the inside of her thigh. “You’ll get what I give you. When I give it to you.”

She whimpered, her body straining against his immobility, her pussy fluttering around his fingers. “Please.”

“Please what?” He dragged his teeth over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, not hard enough to mark, just enough to make her squirm.

“Fuck me.” The words were torn from her, breathless and desperate. “I need you to fuck me.”

Toby groaned, his control fraying at the edges. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But not yet. He pulled his fingers free with a wet sound, ignoring her frustrated cry, and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean with slow, deliberate strokes. Her taste exploded on his tongue—sweet and tangy and hers—and his cock jerked painfully in his pants.

Carolyn watched him, her eyes dark with lust, her lips parted. “You’re a sadist.”

“And you love it.” He reached for her bra next, his fingers deft as he unhooked the clasp at the front. The lace fell away, revealing her breasts—full and heavy, her nipples hard little points, still red from where he’d bitten them earlier. He palmed one, squeezing just shy of pain, and her back arched again, pushing into his touch.

“Yes,” she hissed.

He rolled her nipple between his fingers, pinching lightly before soothing the sting with his thumb. “Such a good girl when you want to be.”

She laughed, but it was breathless, broken. “I’m never good.”

“No.” He leaned down, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue swirling around her nipple before he sucked it deep. “You’re perfect.”

Carolyn moaned, her hands flying to his hair, her fingers tangling in the dark strands. She tried to pull him closer, but he resisted, keeping his pace maddeningly slow. He lavished attention on one breast, then the other, his free hand skimming down her stomach, over the dip of her waist, the flare of her hip. He could feel the heat of her pussy against his palm, could smell how wet she was, how ready, but he didn’t touch her there. Not yet.

Instead, he trailed his fingers lower, over the smooth skin of her inner thigh, tracing idle patterns that made her tremble. “Toby, please—”

“Patience.” He nipped at her collarbone, then the sensitive skin beneath her ear, his hand finally—finally—sliding between her legs. He didn’t penetrate her, though. Just cupped her, his palm pressing against her clit, his fingers spreading her lips apart. She was dripping, her arousal coating his skin, and he groaned against her neck. “Fuck, Carolyn. You’re soaked.”

“Because of you,” she gasped, her hips lifting, trying to grind against his hand.

He let her—just once—before pulling back, denying her the friction she craved. “Such a greedy little thing.”

She whined, her nails scraping against his scalp. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He kissed her then, slow and deep, his tongue sliding against hers, letting her taste herself on his lips. She moaned into his mouth, her body melting beneath him, her resistance crumbling with every stroke of his tongue. When he finally pulled back, her eyes were glazed, her lips swollen and red.

“Take off your clothes,” she demanded, her voice rough.

Toby smirked. “Bossy.”

“Now, Toby.”

He chuckled, but he didn’t argue. He stood, stripping off his jacket and tossing it aside, his tie following. His shirt was already unbuttoned from earlier, and he shrugged out of it, letting it pool on the floor. Carolyn’s gaze raked over him, hungry and possessive, lingering on the dark trail of hair that led down from his navel, the way his slacks tented obscenely around his erection.

“Pants. Now.”

He toed off his shoes, then unbuckled his belt, the sound of the leather sliding free loud in the quiet room. His slacks followed, then his boxers, his cock springing free, thick and heavy, the head already slick with precome. Carolyn’s tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and he groaned at the sight.

“Like what you see?”

“Get on the bed.”

He obeyed, crawling over her, his body covering hers, his cock nestled against her stomach. She reached for him immediately, her hand wrapping around his length, her thumb swiping over the slick crown. He hissed, his hips jerking into her touch, but he caught her wrist, stilling her.

“Not yet.”

She glared up at him, but there was no real heat in it—just need, raw and desperate. “I need—”

“I know what you need.” He shifted, his cock sliding against her pussy, coating himself in her wetness. She gasped, her legs falling open wider, her hips lifting to meet him. He teased her, dragging the head of his cock through her folds, pressing just the tip inside before pulling back.

“Toby—”

“Shh.” He did it again, this time pushing in an inch, then retreating. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her breath coming in sharp, needy pants.

“Stop teasing me.”

“But you love it.” He thrust in another inch, then stilled, his cock pulsing inside her. She was tight, her walls clenching around him, trying to pull him deeper. “You love when I make you beg.”

She did. He could see it in the way her thighs trembled, the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers clenched on his skin. “Please,” she whispered. “I need you.”

That was all he could take. With a groan, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one deep thrust. Carolyn cried out, her back arching, her nails raking down his back as her body stretched to accommodate him. He stilled, giving her a moment to adjust, his forehead pressed to hers, their breath mingling.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “You’re so big.”

He groaned, his hips rolling experimentally, testing her limits. She was tight, her pussy gripping him like a fist, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from coming right then. “You take me so well.”

She laughed breathlessly, her hands sliding down to his ass, her nails digging in. “Less talking. More fucking.”

Toby chuckled, but he didn’t argue. He pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, then thrust back in, deep and deliberate. Carolyn moaned, her head tipping back, her throat exposed. He latched onto the sensitive skin just beneath her ear, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, his hips setting a slow, punishing rhythm.

Every thrust was measured, every withdrawal a tease. He wanted to feel her—every clench of her pussy, every shuddering breath, every whimper that fell from her lips. He wanted to own her, to make her forget every other touch but his. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper, faster, but he refused to rush. This wasn’t about speed. It was about control.

“Toby—” His name was a prayer, a curse. “Harder. Please.”

He obliged, snapping his hips forward, driving into her with enough force to make the bed creak. She cried out, her body bowing beneath him, her pussy fluttering around his cock. He did it again, and again, each thrust deeper, harder, until the only sounds in the room were the wet slap of skin, their ragged breaths, and Carolyn’s broken moans.

“Yes—just like that—”

He reached between them, his fingers finding her clit, circling it in tight, relentless strokes. Her body locked up, her back arching, her nails drawing blood from his shoulders as she came with a choked scream, her pussy milking his cock in rhythmic pulses. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking her through it, his own release coiling tight in his gut, his balls drawing up.

“Again,” he growled. “Come again.”

“I can’t—”

“You will.”

He changed the angle, his cock dragging against that spot inside her that made her see stars. Her second orgasm crashed over her before she could even catch her breath, her body shaking beneath him, her moans dissolving into wordless cries. Only then did he let himself go, his own release tearing through him with a groan, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he came.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing, the way their bodies clung together, slick with sweat. Toby collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms, her back to his chest. His cock was still half-hard inside her, her pussy occasionally clenching around him in aftershocks.

Carolyn turned her head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Still think you’re in charge?”

Toby laughed, low and rough, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured against her ear. “I know I am.”

She smirked, but she didn’t argue. And for once, neither did he.

Chapter Eight: Shower of Submission

The moment Toby withdrew, Carolyn didn’t just let him go—she claimed him. Her fingers locked around his wrist, her grip unyielding despite the way her body still throbbed from the last orgasm he’d wrung out of her. She twisted, her green eyes flashing with something feral, something that made his cock twitch even as it softened. “We’re not done yet,” she rasped, her voice rough, the words dripping with promise.

Toby exhaled sharply, his chest pressing against her back as he braced himself on the mattress. The air was thick with the scent of sex—musky, raw, the sheets tangled around their legs like ropes. “Carolyn—”

She cut him off. In one fluid motion, she turned, her palm slamming against his chest before sliding down, over the damp planes of his stomach, lower, until her fingers wrapped around his cock. It jerked in her grip, already stirring back to life. “Shower,” she ordered, her lips curling into a smirk that was all teeth. “Now.”

A growl vibrated in his throat, but he didn’t argue. Not when she was already swinging her legs off the bed, not when her nails dragged down his abdomen, leaving faint red lines in their wake. The city lights bled through the blinds, painting her skin in gold and shadow as she stood, her body still flushed, her thighs sticky with his cum. The torn blouse clung to her shoulders, the bra dangling from one arm, her skirt hitched up around her waist—she looked like sin given form.

The shower was already running, the water pounding against the glass door, steam curling into the room. Toby followed, his movements deliberate, his gaze raking over her—the way her ass flexed with each step, the dark triangle of her pussy still glistening, the faint bruises his fingers had left on her hips. “You’re a mess,” he murmured, his voice low, amused.

Carolyn stepped under the spray without looking back. The water hit her skin with a hiss, rivulets streaming down her spine, her ass, the backs of her thighs. She tilted her head back, letting it soak her hair, her fingers combing through the short strands before she reached for the body wash. The scent of jasmine and vanilla bloomed in the steam, rich and intoxicating. “So are you,” she shot back, squeezing a generous amount into her palm.

Toby didn’t waste time. He crowded in behind her, his chest pressing against her back, his hands finding her hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh just above her ass. The water sluiced between them, turning their skin slick, every touch electric. Carolyn arched into him, her shoulders rolling as she rubbed her palms together, working the body wash into a thick lather before smoothing it over her stomach, her ribs, the swell of her breasts.

His hands followed hers. One slid up to cup her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple until she gasped, the sound swallowed by the drumming of the water. The other dipped lower, his fingertips tracing the crease where her thigh met her hip before slipping between her legs. “Already wet again,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot. “Or is that just me?”

Carolyn’s laugh was breathless, broken. “Fuck you.”

“That’s the idea.”

She twisted in his grip, her elbow catching him in the ribs—just enough to make him grunt before she spun fully, pressing him back against the cool tile. The water cascaded over them, plastering her hair to her forehead, her lashes spiked with droplets. Her hands were everywhere—smearing soap over his chest, his shoulders, the hard planes of his stomach. Her nails scraped down his sides, her touch turning punishing when he tried to take control, his fingers tangling in her hair to yank her mouth to his.

The kiss was brutal. Teeth clashed, tongues tangled, their breaths mingling in ragged gasps. Carolyn bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, the copper tang mixing with the taste of him, of the shower’s humidity. Toby groaned, his free hand gripping her ass, hauling her up against him. His cock, thick and heavy again, pressed against her stomach, the head slick with precome.

“You want to play rough?” he growled, his voice rough. “Fine. Let’s play.”

He spun her again, this time slamming her front against the tile. The cold shock of it made her gasp, her palms splaying against the slick surface for balance. Toby didn’t give her time to recover. His knee forced its way between her thighs, spreading her legs, and then his cock was there—hot, insistent, dragging through her folds before notching at her entrance. “Tell me to stop,” he dared, his mouth against her ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck.

Carolyn arched her back, pushing her ass against him, her voice a snarl. “Make me.”

That was all the invitation he needed.

Toby drove into her in one brutal thrust, his hips slapping against her ass, the sound wet and obscene in the steam-filled bathroom. Carolyn cried out, her fingers clawing at the tile, her body stretching to take him, the burn of it exquisite. He didn’t ease up. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled out only to slam back in, each snap of his hips punishing, relentless.

“Fuck—! Yes!”* Carolyn’s voice broke, her body already trembling, her pussy clenching around him. The water pounded down on them, turning their skin slippery, the soap suds swirling between their bodies, making every thrust slicker, deeper. Toby’s breath was a ragged growl in her ear, his cock swelling inside her, stretching her in ways that had her seeing stars. “Harder,” she demanded, her voice raw. “I can take it.”

“Greedy little slut,” Toby snarled, but he gave her what she wanted. His next thrust was brutal, his pelvis grinding against her ass, his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her legs shake. Carolyn sobbed, her forehead pressing against the tile, her body coiled tight. “Again. Please—”

He didn’t let her finish. His hand snaked around her hip, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight, punishing circles. The dual sensation—his cock pistoning into her, his fingers working her clit—sent her crashing over the edge with a scream. Her pussy clenched around him, her thighs trembling, her orgasm ripping through her with such force that her vision whited out for a second.

Toby didn’t stop. He fucked her through it, his own release building, his balls drawing up tight. “That’s it,” he grunted, his voice guttural. “Take my cock like a good girl. Let me feel you come on it again.”

Carolyn was already there, her body still shuddering from the first orgasm when the second hit her, harder, deeper. She could feel him everywhere—inside her, around her, his breath hot on her neck, his fingers bruising her skin. “Toby—! I can’t—!”*

“You can,” he growled. “And you will.”

His next thrust was shallow, his cockhead dragging against her G-spot, and that was all it took. Carolyn’s knees buckled, her body convulsing as another wave of pleasure crashed over her. This time, Toby followed her, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he came with a groan, his cum flooding her in thick, hot spurts. His teeth sank into her shoulder, his hips stuttering against her ass as he rode out his release, his breath ragged in her ear.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The water continued to pour down, washing away the sweat, the soap, the evidence of what they’d just done. Toby’s forehead dropped to the space between her shoulder blades, his chest heaving. Carolyn’s fingers twitched against the tile, her body still humming, oversensitive.

Slowly, Toby pulled out, his cock slipping free with a wet sound. Carolyn whimpered at the loss, her thighs pressing together as his cum began to drip down the inside of her leg. He turned her around, his hands gentle now as he cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. The water streamed between them, their breaths mingling.

“Still think you’re in charge?” Carolyn whispered, her lips curling into a smirk, her voice hoarse but triumphant.

Toby’s thumb traced her lower lip, his dark eyes burning. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I know I am.”

And then he kissed her again, slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world.

The water continued to pour over them, the heat of the shower doing little to ease the fire still burning between them. Carolyn’s fingers tangled in the damp hair at the nape of Toby’s neck, her body pressed flush against his. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, thumping against her chest. His hands slid down her back, his touch possessive, his thumbs tracing slow circles over the curve of her ass.

“You’re going to be sore tomorrow,” he murmured against her lips, his voice a low rumble.

“Good,” she breathed, her teeth grazing his lower lip. “I want to feel you every time I move.”

Toby groaned, his cock twitching against her stomach. “Fuck, Carolyn.”

She smirked, her hand slipping between them to wrap around him. He was already hardening again, thick and heavy in her grip. “Again?” she teased, her thumb swiping over the slick head.

“You’re insatiable,” he growled, but his hips rolled into her touch, his breath hitching.

“And you love it,” she shot back, her fingers tightening around him.

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he spun her around, pressing her back against the tile. The cool surface made her gasp, her nipples pebbling under his gaze. Toby dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs, spreading her wide. “Let’s see how much you can take,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.

Carolyn’s breath hitched as his mouth descended, his tongue dragging through her folds. She was still sensitive, still swollen from their last round, but the moment his lips closed around her clit, she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Toby—!”

He didn’t let up. His tongue worked her in slow, deliberate strokes, his fingers digging into her thighs as she trembled. The water cascaded over them, turning her skin slick, her moans echoing off the tiles. She could feel his cock, hard and throbbing, pressing against her leg, but he didn’t rush. He took his time, savoring every gasp, every shudder, every broken plea that fell from her lips.

“Please,” she whimpered, her hips rolling against his mouth. “I need you inside me.”

Toby pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his lips glistening with her arousal. “Beg,” he commanded, his voice rough.

Carolyn’s breath hitched, her pride warring with her desire. But the look in his eyes—dark, hungry, demanding—broke her. “Please,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “Fuck me, Toby. Please.”

That was all he needed. He surged to his feet, his mouth crashing against hers as he lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist. The water pounded down on them, turning their skin slippery as he pressed her back against the tile. His cock notched at her entrance, and with one sharp thrust, he was inside her again.

Carolyn cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes—! Fuck, yes!“

Toby didn’t hold back. He fucked her hard, his hips snapping against hers, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the steam-filled bathroom. Carolyn’s head fell back against the tile, her body arching into his, her moans growing louder, more desperate. “Harder,” she gasped. “Don’t stop—!”

“Never,” Toby growled, his teeth sinking into the curve of her neck.

The orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body convulsing around him, her pussy clenching so tight that Toby groaned, his own release crashing over him. He buried his face against her shoulder, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he came, his cum filling her in thick, hot spurts.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, their breaths ragged, their bodies trembling. The water continued to pour over them, washing away the sweat, the soap, the evidence of their desperation. Toby’s forehead pressed against hers, his dark eyes burning into hers.

“Mine,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Carolyn’s lips curled into a smirk, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Yours,” she agreed, her voice soft but sure.

And for the first time in a long time, she meant it.

Chapter Nine: Hunger’s Edge

The steam from the shower still clung to Carolyn’s skin as she tugged her blouse down over her damp bra, the fabric clinging just enough to remind her of how thoroughly Toby had marked her. Her fingers trembled slightly—not from cold, but from the lingering hum of pleasure still thrumming through her nerves. She caught her reflection in the hallway mirror: lips swollen from biting, hair tousled, cheeks flushed. Good. Let him see what he’d done to her.

Toby wasn’t faring much better. His dark shirt stretched over shoulders still tense from exertion, the top buttons undone as if he’d given up on pretending at propriety. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows, exposing forearms corded with muscle, the same ones that had pinned her against the tiles not thirty minutes ago. His gaze flicked to her as she stepped into the living room, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “You look like you’ve been thoroughly fucked,” he murmured, voice rough.

Carolyn arched a brow, smoothing her skirt over her thighs with deliberate slowness. “And you look like you wish you were still doing it.” She grabbed her purse from the couch, the leather cool against her overheated palm. “But unless you want to starve, we’re leaving. Now.”

The diner was a neon-lit haven of grease and caffeine, the kind of place that didn’t ask questions about the couple who stumbled in at midnight with flushed faces and tangled hair. The booth’s cracked vinyl squeaked as Carolyn slid in, her skirt riding up just enough to tease. Toby took the seat across from her, his long legs brushing hers under the table. Neither pulled away.

A waitress with a name tag that read Marge and a voice like gravel dropped two laminated menus between them. “Coffee?” she asked, already pouring before they could answer.

Carolyn wrapped her hands around the chipped mug, the heat seeping into her skin. She took a slow sip, watching Toby over the rim. His fingers drummed against the tabletop, restless. “You’re thinking too loud,” she said.

“Just wondering how long it’ll take you to break first.” His gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, to where her blouse gaped just enough to hint at the bite marks he’d left on her collarbone.

She leaned forward, letting the neckline dip further. “Oh, darling,” she purred, “I don’t break.” To prove it, she reached across the table and traced a single fingernail along the back of his hand, light as a whisper. His knuckles flexed, but he didn’t pull away. “But you do get distracted.”

Toby’s eyes darkened. “Careful, Carolyn.” The warning was low, threaded with something raw. “We’re in public.”

“And?” She dragged her nail up his wrist, over the pulse point that jumped beneath his skin. “You didn’t seem to mind public before.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That conference room. Your desk. The supply closet after hours.” She smirked. “Or was that just business?”

His jaw tightened. Then, deliberate as a counterstrike, he shifted in his seat, his knee pressing between hers under the table. The denim of his jeans was rough against her inner thighs, the heat of him seeping through the thin fabric of her skirt. “You want to play?” His voice was a velvet rasp. “Fine. Let’s play.”

Carolyn’s breath hitched, but she masked it with a slow, taunting smile. “What’s the wager?”

Toby’s fingers curled around his coffee cup, his thumb stroking the rim in a way that made her think of other things he’d stroked. “First one to crack loses.” His foot slid higher, the toe of his dress shoe nudging her clit through her panties. “And the loser has to do exactly what the winner wants. No safewords. No hesitation.”

The challenge hung between them, thick as the scent of bacon grease in the air. Carolyn’s pulse spiked, but she tilted her head, feigning consideration. “Deal.” She didn’t move, didn’t flinch, even as his foot applied the barest pressure, just enough to make her thighs clench. “But you should know—I always collect.”

Marge chose that moment to return, pad in hand. “Y’all ready to order, or you just gonna stare at each other all night?”

Carolyn didn’t look away from Toby. “Burger, rare. Fries. And a whiskey, neat.” She finally dragged her gaze to the waitress. “He’ll have the same.”

Toby’s foot didn’t retreat. If anything, it pressed harder, the leather of his shoe a brand against her. “Make mine a double,” he said, voice smooth as aged bourbon.

The second Marge walked away, Carolyn’s hand shot under the table, her fingers wrapping around Toby’s wrist before he could react. She guided his palm up her thigh, over the damp heat of her panties. “Since you’re so eager,” she murmured, “why don’t you see how wet you’ve already made me?”

His breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers encountered the slick fabric, the evidence of her arousal undeniable. “Fuck, Carolyn—” His voice was rough, his fingers curling instinctively, pressing against her.

“Quiet,” she chided, though her own voice was unsteady. “We wouldn’t want to cause a scene.” She arched into his touch just slightly, her hips lifting off the seat. The movement was subtle, but the effect was electric—Toby’s fingers stiffened, two of them sliding beneath the lace to find her bare, swollen lips. She bit her lip to stifle a gasp as he traced her entrance, teasing but not entering.

“You’re dripping,” he growled, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the table. “All over my fucking hand.”

Carolyn’s nails dug into his wrist, her own control fraying. “Then do something about it,” she challenged, her voice a breathless dare.

Toby didn’t need to be told twice. His middle finger sank into her in one smooth stroke, curling upward to hit that spot that made her vision white out for a second. Carolyn’s free hand flew to the table, her coffee cup rattling as she knocked against it. “Shit—” The word was a choked whisper.

“Quiet,” Toby echoed her earlier command, his voice a dark chuckle. His thumb found her clit, circling lazily even as his finger fucked her with slow, deliberate strokes. “Or do you want Marge to see how well you take my fingers?”

Carolyn’s breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. She forced her spine straight, her face a mask of composure even as her body betrayed her. “You’re not winning,” she managed, though her voice was thin, strained.

“No?” His finger crooked inside her, and her inner walls clenched around him, desperate. “Then why are you begging with that pretty cunt?”

She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around his wrist. “I’m not—” The words died as he added a second finger, stretching her, filling her. The burn was exquisite, the stretch almost too much, but she wanted it, wanted the ache, the reminder of who was in control. “Fuck,” she breathed, her hips rocking in tiny, involuntary circles.

Toby’s eyes burned into hers, dark with triumph. “That’s right. Fuck.” His fingers pistoned in and out, the wet sounds obscured by the diner’s ambient noise, but Carolyn could feel it—the obscene slide of her arousal coating his skin, the way her body tried to pull him deeper. “You’re close,” he observed, his voice a low rumble. “I can feel you tightening. Milking me.”

Carolyn’s teeth sank into her lower lip hard enough to taste blood. She was close, teetering on the edge, her body coiled tight as a spring. But if she came now, she lost. And she never lost.

With a Herculean effort, she tore her hand from his wrist and grabbed his forearm, her nails digging in. “Your turn,” she gasped. Before he could react, she shoved his hand away from her and dropped to her knees under the table.

Toby’s sharp inhale was the only warning she got before her fingers fumbled with his belt, his zipper. His cock was already half-hard, thick and heavy in her palm as she freed it, the head glistening with pre-cum. She didn’t waste time. Her mouth sealed over him, taking him deep in one smooth motion, her tongue swirling around the crown.

“Jesus Christ—” Toby’s hands flew to the table’s edge, his knuckles bone-white. His hips jerked upward, feeding her more of his length, and Carolyn hollowed her cheeks, taking him to the back of her throat. She could taste him—salt and musk and the faint tang of soap from the shower. Her own arousal pulsed between her thighs, her clit throbbing in time with the bob of her head.

“Fuck, Carolyn—” His voice was a guttural rasp, his thighs trembling beneath her palms. “You—ngh—you’re gonna make me—”

She pulled off with a wet pop, her lips swollen, her chin shiny with spit. “Then come,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over his slick cock. “Right here. Right now.” She licked a slow stripe up his shaft, her tongue swirling around the head before she took him back into her mouth, her hand working the base in tight, twisting strokes.

Toby’s entire body locked, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “I’m not—fuck—not losing to you—” His words dissolved into a groan as Carolyn’s teeth grazed the sensitive underside of his cock, her tongue soothing the sting immediately after.

She could feel him swelling, the vein along his length throbbing against her tongue. He was right there, on the precipice, his control hanging by a thread. Carolyn redoubled her efforts, her mouth working him with relentless precision, her free hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently.

“Carolyn, stop—” His fingers tangled in her hair, not to pull her off, but to hold on, his hips stuttering upward. “I’m gonna—fuck—”

She didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The taste of him, the way his body tensed beneath her, the knowledge that she was the one pushing him to the edge—it was intoxicating. Her own orgasm hovered just out of reach, her clit aching, her pussy empty and desperate. But this—this was power.

Toby’s cock jerked, the first hot spurt of cum hitting the back of her throat. Carolyn swallowed around him, her throat working as he pulsed, filling her mouth with his release. His grip on her hair tightened, his breath a ragged litany of curses and her name. She took every last drop, licking him clean before tucking him back into his pants and resurfacing with a smug smile.

Toby was a wreck—his chest heaving, his face flushed, his eyes dark with something between awe and frustration. “You cheated,” he accused, though there was no real heat in it.

Carolyn licked her lips, savoring the taste of him. “All’s fair in love and war, darling.” She slid back into her seat, her skirt riding up to mid-thigh. “And I always win.”

Toby exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to her mouth, then lower, to where her thighs were still parted just enough to hint at the glistening mess between them. “This isn’t over,” he promised, his voice rough.

Carolyn leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her cleavage on full display. “No,” she agreed, her voice a purr. “It’s far from over.”

Marge chose that moment to return with their whiskeys, oblivious to the sexual tension thick enough to cut with a knife. “Food’ll be out in a sec,” she said, setting the glasses down with a clink.

Toby downed his whiskey in one burn, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Carolyn sipped hers slower, the amber liquid warming her from the inside out. Her body still hummed, her pussy aching with unspent need, her clit throbbing in time with her pulse. She could feel Toby’s cum drying on her chin, the ghost of his taste on her tongue.

She met his gaze over the rim of her glass, her smile slow and knowing. “Check, please,” she said, her voice steady despite the fire burning beneath her skin.

Toby’s eyes darkened, his fingers drumming against the table once more. “We’re not done here.”

Carolyn stood, smoothing her skirt down with deliberate slowness. “Oh, I know.” She leaned down, her mouth brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered, “But if you want round two, you’re gonna have to earn it.” She straightened, tossing a twenty onto the table—more than enough to cover the bill. “Coming?”

Toby’s chair scraped against the linoleum as he stood, his body a coiled spring of restrained energy. He didn’t speak as they walked out, but his hand found the small of her back, his touch possessive, his fingers splayed wide. The night air was cool against Carolyn’s overheated skin, the walk back to her apartment a torturous tease, their bodies brushing with every step.

The second the door clicked shut behind them, Toby had her pressed against it, his mouth crashing down on hers. Carolyn gasped into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as his hands gripped her ass, lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, her skirt riding up to her hips.

“You win,” Toby growled against her lips, his hips grinding against hers, his erection already back in full force. “Now tell me what you want.”

Carolyn arched into him, her nails scoring his scalp. “I want you on your knees,” she demanded, her voice a dark whisper. “I want your mouth on me until I scream. And then—” She rocked against him, her clit dragging against the rigid length of his cock. “Then I want you to fuck me until I forget my own name.”

Toby’s answer was a feral groan, his teeth sinking into her lower lip as he carried her toward the bedroom, their clothes already a trail of discarded fabric in their wake.

Chapter Ten: The Gambler’s Surrender

The air between them still hummed with the aftershocks of their last encounter, the kind of tension that made the space between breaths feel electric. Carolyn leaned against the kitchen island, her fingers tracing the rim of her whiskey glass, the amber liquid catching the low light. The ice had long since melted, leaving the drink diluted but still sharp—just like the look in her eyes as she watched Toby. He stood across from her, shirtless, his pants unbuttoned but still clinging to his hips, the dark trail of hair leading downward a silent promise of what was to come. His chest rose and fell with the kind of controlled breaths that betrayed the effort it took to keep himself in check.

“You’re still standing there like you’ve got something to prove,” Carolyn murmured, her voice a slow pour of honey laced with venom. She tilted her head, letting her gaze drag over him like a physical touch. “Or are you just admiring the view?”

Toby’s lips quirked, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. “Oh, I’m definitely admiring the view.” His voice was rough, the kind of gravel that made her thighs press together. “But I was thinking we could make this a little more… interesting.”

Carolyn arched a brow, swirling her glass before setting it down with a deliberate clink. “Interesting how?”

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the deck of cards they’d left on the table earlier. The edges were slightly worn, the kind of deck that had seen its fair share of high-stakes games. “Strip poker,” he said, flipping the deck between his fingers with practiced ease. “Winner takes all.”

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Carolyn’s face. She pushed off the counter, closing the distance between them in three deliberate steps. The heat of his body radiated against her, the scent of his cologne—something dark and spiced—mingling with the faint musk of sex still clinging to them both. “You’re on,” she purred, plucking the deck from his fingers. “But when I win—and I will win—you’re going to be on your knees again before the night’s over.”

Toby chuckled, low and dark, his hand snaking out to grip her hip, fingers digging in just enough to make her breath hitch. “Bold words for someone who’s already half-naked.”

Carolyn didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered, “I don’t need clothes to beat you, Toby. But you? You’ve got a lot to lose.”

The challenge hung between them, thick and intoxicating. Toby exhaled sharply, his grip tightening for a second before he stepped back, putting just enough space between them to let the game begin. “Deal the cards, Carolyn. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The kitchen table was a battlefield, the deck of cards their weapons. Carolyn shuffled with the precision of a dealer in a high-stakes casino, her fingers moving with fluid confidence. The first hand was dealt—five cards each, face down. Toby’s gaze never left hers as he picked up his hand, his expression unreadable.

Carolyn’s cards were a mixed blessing—two pairs, nothing spectacular, but enough to bluff with. She bet high, pushing a stack of imaginary chips toward the center of the table. “Call or fold, counselor.”

Toby’s eyes flicked to her hand, then back to her face. He knew she was bluffing. She could see it in the way his fingers tapped against the table, the faintest twitch of his jaw. But instead of calling her out, he matched her bet, sliding his own stack forward. “Show me.”

Carolyn revealed her hand with a flourish, her smirk faltering for just a second when Toby laid down a flush. “Damn it,” she muttered, but there was no real frustration in her voice. Just the thrill of the game.

“First blood,” Toby murmured, his voice a dark caress. “Take something off.”

Carolyn didn’t hesitate. She reached behind her back, unclasping her bra with a flick of her wrists before letting the straps slide down her arms. The lace pooled on the floor between them, leaving her in nothing but her black panties, her breasts full and heavy, nipples already tight with arousal. Toby’s gaze darkened, his fingers flexing against the table like he was fighting the urge to reach for her.

“Your turn,” she said, her voice huskier now. “Unless you’re too chicken to keep up.”

Toby’s answer was to peel off his pants, letting them drop to the floor. He wasn’t wearing underwear. His cock was already half-hard, thick and heavy against his thigh, the sight of it making Carolyn’s mouth water. She licked her lips, her pulse thrumming between her legs.

The next hand was dealt. This time, Carolyn’s luck turned. Three of a kind—kings. She bet aggressively, her eyes locked onto Toby’s as she pushed her advantage. He studied his cards, then her, before finally tossing them onto the table. “Fold.”

Carolyn’s triumph was short-lived. “You’re letting me win?”

Toby leaned back in his chair, his cock fully hard now, the tip glistening with pre-cum. “No,” he said, his voice a rough purr. “I’m letting you think you’re winning.”

She should’ve known. The next two hands were his—first her panties, then his turn to remove nothing, since he was already naked. Carolyn sat there, completely bare, her skin flushed with heat, her pussy aching with need. The cool air of the apartment did nothing to temper the fire burning under her skin.

Toby dealt the final hand. Carolyn’s cards were shit—nothing but mismatched suits and numbers. She glared at them, then at him. “You’re cheating.”

“Prove it,” he challenged, his voice a dark dare.

She couldn’t. But she wasn’t about to go down without a fight. Carolyn reached across the table, her fingers brushing against his inner thigh. Toby’s breath hitched, his cock twitching in response. “Distracting me?” he growled.

“All’s fair in love and poker,” she murmured, her nails scraping lightly over his skin. She could feel the heat of him, the way his muscles tensed under her touch. With a smirk, she slipped one of his cards from his hand when he wasn’t looking, replacing it with a low-value one from the deck.

Toby didn’t notice. Not at first. He laid down his hand—a straight—and Carolyn’s stomach dropped. She had nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

But then she saw it. The card she’d palmed. A king. The one that would give her a pair.

She slid it into her hand, her heart pounding. “Read ‘em and weep, counselor.”

Toby’s eyes narrowed as she laid down her cards. His gaze flicked between her hand and her face, his expression darkening with realization. “You cheated.”

Carolyn leaned back in her chair, spreading her legs just enough to give him a perfect view of her glistening pussy. “I won.”

For a long moment, Toby just stared at her, his jaw clenched, his cock throbbing. Then, slowly, a smirk curled his lips. “You’re lucky I like it when you play dirty.”

Before she could react, he was out of his chair, rounding the table in two long strides. Carolyn barely had time to gasp before he gripped her thighs, hauling her onto the edge of the table. The cards scattered, forgotten, as he pushed her back, her spine pressing against the cool wood.

“Cheaters don’t get rewards,” he growled, his mouth crashing down onto hers.

Carolyn moaned into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as he bit her lower lip, hard enough to sting. “Who said anything about rewards?” she gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. The head of his cock brushed against her entrance, hot and heavy, and she arched into him, desperate for more.

Toby chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up to grip her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples until they were achingly hard. “Oh, you’re getting a reward, Carolyn. Just not the one you expected.”

He didn’t give her time to respond. In one smooth motion, he lifted her, turning and pressing her back against the cool granite of the kitchen counter. The contrast was delicious—the hard, cold surface against her heated skin, Toby’s body pinning her in place. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his ass as he lined himself up.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice a raw whisper. “Hard. Like you mean it.”

Toby didn’t need to be told twice. He thrust into her in one deep, claiming stroke, filling her so completely that she cried out, her nails raking down his back. “God, you’re tight,” he groaned, his hips snapping forward, driving into her with a rhythm that was punishing and perfect.

Carolyn’s head fell back, her breath coming in sharp gasps as he fucked her with long, deliberate strokes. Every thrust hit that spot inside her that made her see stars, her body clenching around him, her pussy dripping with arousal. The counter dug into her back, the cool granite a stark contrast to the fevered heat of their bodies, the slick sounds of their sex filling the kitchen.

“More,” she begged, her voice breaking. “I need—fuck—I need—”

Toby’s hand slid between them, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. “You need to come,” he growled, his voice rough with effort. “You need to come on my cock like the greedy little cheat you are.”

“Yes—yes—” Carolyn’s body tensed, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. She cried out, her pussy pulsing around him, her nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure wracked her body. Toby didn’t stop. He kept fucking her through it, his own release building, his breath ragged against her neck.

“Fuck, Carolyn—” His voice was a guttural groan as he buried himself deep, his cock twitching as he came, his cum filling her in hot, thick spurts. She could feel it, the way he pulsed inside her, the way his body shuddered against hers.

For a long moment, they stayed like that—breathless, slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in sync. Toby’s forehead pressed against hers, his dark eyes locked onto hers, his cock still buried inside her.

Carolyn smirked, her lips swollen from his kisses, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Still think you’re the better player?”

Toby chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. “Oh, this isn’t over, Carolyn.” His hips rolled once, twice, his semi-hard cock stirring inside her. “Not by a long shot.”

And as he pulled out slowly, his cum dripping down her thighs, Carolyn knew he was right. The game was far from over. But for now, she’d take the win.