Descent (Black Heart Romance)

He squeezes me again, then slides his hand between my legs to give my pussy the same attention. I don’t know if it’s the way he handles me, rough and careful at the same time, or knowing that at any moment a guard could come around the corner and spot us, but arousal throbs between my thighs and heat spreads to my core.

I still want him to stop. He can continue this in the car, but it’s too risky here.

“Calvin, please, can we go?”

In answer, he presses his finger into the cleft between my legs, even through all the fabric.

A thrill shoots through me at the stimulation. It’s so wrong on so many levels, but as the blunt tip of his finger moves toward my clit, every muscle in my body is taut with anticipation.

He stops just before he touches it.

I sag a little, but I swear it’s relief and not disappointment. I’m glad he came to his senses. I’ll feel so much better once we—

Rather than release me and walk out of the temple like we were about to do in my head, he reaches down and bunches up the yards of fabric around my legs. Cool air hits my bare skin. Before I can question what he thinks he’s doing, he cinches it at my waist and holds the wrinkled fabric to the side with one hand while using the other to drag my panties down.

“Calvin,” I whisper, scandalized.

“Shh,” he murmurs against my ear as he tugs the fabric down, exposing my ass. “Do you think anyone has ever fucked in here?” he asks, leaving my panties around my thighs and running his fingers across my pussy entrance.

Ignoring the throb, I say, “Of course not. It’s a temple.”

His hand grazes my pussy but he doesn’t push any fingers into me. Instead, he runs his hand over the curve of my ass and squeezes, then gives it a little smack.

It’s as if the sound reverberates through the entire museum. My eyes widen and my heart jumps. “Are you crazy?”

He smiles, then runs his other hand down the front of my throat. “Do you want to feel these ancient sandstones on your bare tits, Hallie?”

Shaking my head, my cheeks scarlet, I hiss, “No.”

“I think you do. Too cautious to take it for yourself, but you’re curious.” His hand on my ass slides up the middle of my back until he’s got hold of my zipper. I feel the material give as he begins to unzip it but I grab it with both hands before it can fall.

This displeases him. He drops the dress and grabs my hands, gathering them together and planting them over my head against the wall. He shackles them there with one hand and uses the other to unfasten my bra once the dress falls off.

My breasts spring free and his hungry gaze hits them. He grabs them and palms them one at a time, then smashes them against his warm arm and presses me closer to the wall. He moves his arm and smashes my bare tits against the cool sandstone, then he brings his body against my back so I’m trapped between him and the wall, unable to move away.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs in my ear.

My heart thunders. “Like someone could walk around that corner and see us like this at any given moment.”

He doesn’t sound as afraid of that as I am. “Yeah? You think the guard would make me stop? Or do you think he’d come closer and watch your face as my finger moving inside you makes you moan? Do you think he’d be turned on when I bend you over right here and shove my cock into you? Do you think he’d wish he could do it instead?”

I swallow, trying to push back against him to move away from the wall, but he doesn’t let me. He keeps me caged here, now almost completely naked. My dress and bra have fallen to the ground, but the panties are still stuck around my thighs.

My pussy is exposed enough for him to easily slide his hand between my legs, so he does. He pushes into me and I’m so ashamed when he slides in easily, my pussy already slick with arousal.

He groans when his finger plunges all the way to the knuckle, releasing my wrists and locking his arm around my neck instead. I grab onto his arm, but he doesn’t pull it too tight. He just wants to keep me close, keep me controlled.

“I want to leave,” I whisper.

“I know,” he murmurs, pushing a second finger into me. He pulls both out and pushes them back in, simulating fucking. He keeps me close and listens to every tiny sound I make as he does it again and again.

When he pulls his fingers out of me, I know they’re coated in arousal. I know because he brings them up to show me.