I don’t know what time it is when I jerk awake from a dead sleep to someone climbing onto the bed behind me.
My bed.
Nobody should be climbing into bed with me.
My heart explodes as a hand clamps over my mouth before I can do more than gasp in surprise.
“Shhhh.”
It’s a sound, not a voice, so I can’t make out who it is. I tell myself it has to be Hunter, and I believe it, but I still feel unsure when a hand slides across my hip and his fingers slide into the waistband of my panties to push them down.
“Hunter?” I murmur against his hand, just to make sure.
No answer.
I’m only wearing an ugly nightshirt and panties, so once he shoves those down around my knees, he has a lot of access to me. He uses it, sliding the hand that isn’t clamped over my mouth between my thighs, hooking his leg around mine and spreading them open so he can tease me better.
A jolt of arousal courses through me as he forces my legs open and pulls me back against him. My eyes drift shut as his fingertips lightly brush my entrance.
He slides his hand up my abdomen, then pushes it up under my nightie and fondles my breast.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Relief pours through me at the sound of Hunter’s voice. “You don’t have to say yes. I just need to use your pussy tonight. I won’t be able to sleep until I do.”
Arousal trickles through me at his naughty words.
I love this game. I don’t know how he got into my locked house, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to be played with tonight, but my guards are down enough from being woken from a dead sleep, and besides that, I missed him. If we can play under the dark blanket of night and then pretend nothing happened in the morning, I can live with that.
My body comes alive as he plays with my breasts and teases my nipples. They harden at his touch.
He hardens, too. I feel his hard cock pressed against my butt as he touches me. Feel it harden even more as he slides his hand between my legs and I moan against his palm.
“Fuck, Riley.” He kisses the side of my head, then shifts his body. Since I’m lying on top of him, I shift with him.
I hear him unzip his pants so I know he’s taking his cock out. He keeps his hand sealed over my mouth, but his grip has eased. It’s not tight as he shoves into me, so my sharp cry is louder than I intend it to be.
His hand on my mouth tightens and he rolls me onto my stomach, crushing me beneath him as he pushes more of his cock into me.
“Shhh. You don’t want me to get caught, do you?”
I grab my pillow and squeeze the life out of it as he pushes so deep inside of me, it feels like he’s gone too far. I’m too full of him. It almost aches.
It feels good to be that full of him, though. I can’t help moaning as he eases back, and then drives into me again. Once more, he goes so deep it feels like he’s in my guts, but it’s a heady feeling, being possessed like that.
He doesn’t talk to me much tonight, just buries me in the mattress as he fucks me. It’s not a punishment though, so despite bruising my flesh with his greedy hands and filling my bedroom with the sounds of his skin slapping mine while he fucks me, he makes sure it’s good for me, even though he said he just needed to use me tonight.
He uses the hand that’s not covering my mouth to squeeze my pussy like he’s claiming it, to play with my clit while he fucks me. As a result, my pleasure builds and builds.
I hope he doesn’t do another one of those double whammy orgasms that melted my whole mind... but I kinda hope he does, too.
I want to warn him, to remind him that my mom’s upstairs asleep and if he makes me come as hard as he did that one time over the weekend, I might not be able to hold back a scream.
But when I go to warn him, I realize he has my mouth covered. Even if I do scream, he can probably muffle it.
“Your pussy likes to be used doesn’t it, Riley?”
His filthy words make me moan, but his hand over my mouth saves me from having to answer, makes it almost a taunt.
He slams into me so hard, my whole bed moves.
“You’re not going to be able to sit down tomorrow without thinking about me.” He murmurs the words in my ear like he’s whispering an endearment, but the words themselves are greedy and possessive. He doesn’t want me to be able to sit down without thinking about him. He doesn’t want me to breathe without thinking of him. If he could leave an impression of his dick in my lungs so I wouldn’t be able to, he damn well would.