Rich Soldier (The Dirty Thirty Pledge 2)

I didn’t see it coming.

That’s a lie. I very much saw it coming, and I didn’t stop it.

And then he has me pinned against the side of the house and his lips are on mine, and my body is pure fire. God, this feels so good, the culmination of the whole day of flirting and so much better than even my dreams made me imagine it would be. It’s at once familiar and brand new. And then it’s gone.

Wallace pulls back, breathless, looking me in the eye. “You’ve been teasing me all day.”

“Me?” I say, that anger pushing up into my chest. “You started it. That water thing? Casually brushing by me whenever you needed something?”

He groans and kisses me again. “You’re not innocent,” he growls against my lips. “You kept showing me your ass, staring at me, and you did your fair share of brushing.”

I kiss him back, pulling him closer even though the anger burning in my veins tells me to push him away, but I don’t. “We’re going to fuck, but I want to be clear that I still hate you,” I say, biting at his lips and pushing my hips into his, where I can feel how hard he is.

“Noted.”

And the kiss changes into something truly feral. The siding of the house creaks behind me as he pushes me against it, and I fumble with his belt, trying to get it open as fast as he’s trying to undo mine. The condom slips on faster than I can take a breath and he shoves my pants over my hips, lifting me so he can settle between my legs before taking me in one brutal stroke.

I gasp, and he freezes. I do too. He’s inside me now, and it’s amazing. Time seems to come to a stop for a moment as we look at each other. We have a choice here. We can stop, pull back, and deal with the consequences. Or we can keep going and deal with an entirely different set of consequences. And then he’s fucking me.

I remember when we had sex a long time ago, it was hot but also sweet. We were so in love that we took our time to savor each other and make sure that the other got what they needed and every part of them felt appreciated.

This isn’t like that.

Wallace slams into me with wild abandon, and I can feel that I’ll have scratches on my back from the wall behind me, even through my clothes. But it’s everything I want. I want to hit him and scratch him and punch him but I don’t want him to stop. His cock is sweet, sweet friction, slamming in so deep that I see stars with every thrust, and I’m biting my lip to keep quiet.

I don’t remember him being this big. Maybe, like every part of his ripped body, his cock got bigger too. I didn’t think it was possible, or maybe I just have a bad memory, but he’s filling me up and touching every part of me. I think I’d have a hard time taking him if I weren’t so slick from a full day of his teasing.

His hands find my ass and lift me up so I’m higher, my knees straddling his waist and the bulk of his body pinning me to the wall as he fucks me. And then his lips find my neck. Sucking, licking, biting until I’m moaning and I can’t keep it down. Grinding against me, I explode in a flash of light. I’ve been so ready for this, my body lets go. I didn’t have time to burn off any of the sexual energy from my dreams, and everything today was just fuel. I’m tinder, and my orgasm is a wildfire. It roars through me, burning bright and fierce before exploding again into a bigger climax, and I think I scream. I’m clinging to him for what I think might be my life, and he grunts in my ear, fucking his way to his own climax.

His face is pressed into my neck when he comes, shaking as he holds me, and we breathe together for a moment before he puts me down. We stare at each other, neither knowing what to say. This feels like it was inevitable, and yet, I’m not sure either of us wanted it to happen this way.

I’m suddenly aware that I’m covered in sweat and sex, and that I want more. But that can’t be here.

“Follow me,” I say, pulling up my pants and grabbing my keys.

Wallace grabs his keys too. “Where are we going?”

“My place.”

* * *

This is probably really stupid. I have every reason to hate Wallace. Or if I don’t have a reason to hate him, then I certainly have grounds never to talk to him again. I think any person in the world would agree with me. But I can’t get him out of my head, and so I’m going with my gut. I have no idea if I’m going to regret this tomorrow, but right now, this is what I want. I’m not going to question it.