Page 86 of Yearn

For one moment, our gazes clashed and I thought she’d walk. Not many were into humiliation and I figured Landon was nearing the edge. But then I saw something glint within her pupils, a needy, lustful light she’d hidden away and refused to accept.

I knew her soul because I owned the same kind. The need to play in the dirt, over the line, crossing into a place where the barrier between pain and pleasure was fragile and transparent.

Landon rode my leg without apology or hesitation. Throwing her head back, she rubbed her clit back and forth, clutching my shoulders to move me the way she craved, like I was nothing but a means to her pleasure. The witch used me as I used her, and God help me, I fell a little bit in love with her right then and there. I ached to strip her bare and fuck her proper, but I’d decided to torture both of us with my experiment and submit to the results.

Her teeth reached for her wounded lip. Her features tightened as she neared, and then she was there, her mouth making a little o as a satisfied scream emit. For the second time, I swallowed the sound whole, keeping my eyes open to drink in every flicker on her face, every ounce of pleasure she milked from me. I held her while she shuddered and shook with the force of her orgasm. Then she collapsed.

Our breathing settled. The sounds from the music thrummed through the door. Lemon disinfectant mixed with the scent of Landon’s pleasure. Slowly, she released her legs and I allowed her to slide down the wall until her shoes hit the floor.

I righted her when she swayed. She fixed her skirt, smoothing it down, gathering her composure. Then she tilted her chin, staring at me with haughty condescension.

“Thanks. I needed that.”

She opened the closet door and slammed it shut behind her.

I touched the wet spot on my leg and accepted the full force of pain that her words left behind.

I had no idea what would happen next.

I only knew that things between us weren’t over.