Over A Bathroom Quickie?

RUBY'S POV

Taste. Those lips. That tongue. I didn’t need any more encouragement. My hands began to travel, over my neck, back over my breasts, pressing them together, my nipples peeking through my fingers.

Dominic Rutherford leaned forward and ran his tongue over them, one peak and then the next. Lick, swirl, lick.

My hands went to his hair. His name whispered from my lips.

More licking, a delicate scrape of teeth, and then he leaned back. “Show me more. Where do you need me?"

Oh, I needed him all right. The fingers of one hand slid seductively down my stomach, through my underwear and the triangle of curls above my clit. I touched myself, stroked my clit, slid my fingers into the wet heat dripping from my core.

"Here," I said. “I need you here.”

He pressed my legs wider and pushed my panties until they slid down my legs. Then his strong fingers brushed up and down my thighs, slow and seductive. His lashes lowered, head tilted as he watched me caress my sensitive flesh, until he covered my hand with his. Helped me touch myself.

“Keep going,” he said, urging me to caress my swollen clit, while he slid his finger inside me. I gasped, pleasure sparking through me. He slid another finger inside, delicately exploring. His lips trailed along my upper thigh, teasing me with where they might go next. Tongue tracking a line along the triangle.

“Fuck!” I almost screamed, going insane from the anticipation, arching my hips, pressing against his fingers.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, leaning in and kissing my fingers as they slid along my nub. “My mouth?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes.”

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I want your mouth,” I said.

“Where?”

“On me,” I said, beyond shyness now. “Inside me. All over me. Please!" I begged shamelessly, desperation dripping from my voice.

My reward was instant. His mouth replaced my hand, covering my clit with warm, wet heat as he gently suckled me. A moment later, he was licking me, tasting me, driving me wild.

My hands covered my breasts, molding them, caressing them, even as Dominic Rutherford's tongue pierced the intimate folds of my body, mimicking sex, driving me wild. I couldn’t stay still, my hips pumping against him, hands laced in his hair with a damn near desperate need to hold him there until I found release. Until his fingers, his mouth, pressed me over the edge.

I tensed, my body stiff before the eruption. Then I came forcefully into his mouth, all the while squeezing my boobs.

“Do you have any idea how much I want to be inside you right now?” he asked as he stood to his feet.

“Then why aren’t you?” I responded, loving the feel of him pressed so close, my back to the mirror, my front to him. But even still, in some far corner of my lust-fogged mind, I realized that we were still in a bathroom. Anyone could walk in and see us.

The thought of getting discovered was scary and erotic at the same time.

Right now, all I could process was how hard he was, and how close to being inside me. I whimpered and pressed myself against his chest, aching for more.

I had just unraveled myself to a stranger, in a way I had never done before.

“Oh, we're not done. Spread your legs a bit for me, Kitten." He commanded. When I did as he instructed, he settled between my legs again.

“Now close your eyes. And try not to move.” Dominic Rutherford murmured. I drew in a sharp breath as his fingers slipped into me with a silky, wet ease. First one. Then another. A feverish tide rose inside me, and I groaned.

I jerked in response, causing me to unconsciously move my hips towards his teasing, clever hand, seeking more.

“Ohh—” My body trembled under his touch. “Please…”

I grabbed his hand, pressing it tighter against me in a mute attempt to satisfy this ruthless, pounding desire that flowed between us.

I could feel my entire system responding to his touch, could feel myself growing closer and closer to an orgasm. I knew that I was flowing over his hand, like sun-warmed honey, but I didn't care anymore. Digging my fingers into his shoulders, I groaned.

"I need you closer, please!"

Dominic Rutherford chuckled and released me just long enough to unbuckle his trousers. When he was done, he positioned himself between my legs again.

Then, with a single hard thrust, he pushed into me, deep and hard. He seemed to be driven by my breathless cries, the feel of my inner muscles, contracting, drawing him in.

“Put your legs around me, Kitten.” His voice, rough and guttural and nearly incoherent, was unfamiliar to my ears. But somehow I managed to understand him and I did as instructed. My hands glided up and down his back, my long nails digging into his flesh in a way that made him groan harder.

Dominic Rutherford hammered into me, again and again, my loud cries muffled by his ravenous mouth as it ate into mine, his tongue thrusting between my parted lips in rhythm with his thrusting hips.

My vision seemed to grow blurry as our movements quickened and deepened. And then I was coming, in a mind-blowing release that had me shouting out.

Then our bodies relaxed, as he pulled back.

I gasped for air as he stepped back, towering over me with a gaze as cold as ice. The change in his expression made my body shivered. The tension in the room was suffocating, every muscle in my body locked in place as he glared at me like I was some unwanted speck on his polished shoe.

“I don’t like repeating myself, so listen up.” He murmured. “You will not speak of what happened tonight. Not the scar. Not this moment. Nothing.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a finger, silencing me.

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone,” he snarled, “I will make you regret it. And trust me, Kitten, regret is the least of what you’ll feel.”

My breath hitched as his words sank in. He wasn’t bluffing. I didn't know much about him except for what I'd heard from Ariana, but I could tell that Dominic Rutherford wasn’t the type of man who made empty threats.

“You’d kill me over a scar?” I finally managed to whisper. "Over a bathroom quickie?"

His lips curled into a humorless smirk. “If it keeps my past buried, yes.”

I found myself speechless. He didn’t wait for me to respond. With a final glance, he buckled his trousers, adjusted his mask, straightened his suit, and strode toward the door.

I wanted to say something, anything, but the lump in my throat refused to budge. All I could do was stand there, frozen in place as he turned the handle and opened the door. The music from the party flooded into the bathroom, reminding me that we were at a party.

He paused in the doorway, his head tilting slightly as if to check whether I had the nerve to defy him. I didn’t. I was so stunned that all I could do was watch him walk back into the party, leaving me in the bathroom.

I didn't even get to thank him for saving my life.