Sloan bites down on my bottom lip hard enough that I’m surprised I don’t taste blood after, and I groan softly into it, rutting up against him and giving back just as good as I get.
He mumbles against my mouth, something that comes out like a mixture of a half muted curse and my name all at once. I let go of his shirt and reach up to tangle my fingers in his hair instead, gripping tight and pulling him down even more so I can work my tongue into his mouth.
His hands wander. Down my arms, across my chest.
My body burns in the wake of his hands, sparks trailing everywhere he touches. I make a noise that’s half frustration, half desperate need, and Sloan responds by growling into the kiss and pushing me harder against the door.
My legs are spread wide, keeping me up, and one of his muscled thighs makes its way between them, providing a warm, solid spot for me to press against.
It’s automatic, almost, the way I arch into him. The way my body responds, my nipples going hard and peaked in my bra and my pussy soaking itself for him. Even during a fight, I’m helpless to resist the way he makes me feel, and I grab at his hair and then his shirt, touching the warmth of his skin, fingers sliding over scars and muscle alike.
Time seems to slow down when we’re like this, and I have no idea how long we kiss and grope at each other. It feels like a second or six hours, but soon enough Sloan is making his own noise of frustration and pulling away from me.
I try to follow, like I’m going to chase his mouth into another kiss, but he grabs my upper arms again, fingers fitting right into the marks he probably left from the last time he did this. With ease, he turns me around so I’m facing the door, and I put my hands up to brace myself against it.
When I look over my shoulder, his eyes are practically glowing with heat and need, and he drags a hand down my back before sliding them around to undo the button and zipper on my jeans and shove them both down.
It’s just like in the woods. I’m naked from the waist down, and he’s breathing hard, but at least this time I’m not tied up. I kick off my bottoms and my shoes easily enough, and widen my stance again, making it pretty clear that I want this as much as he does.
Sloan fits himself in behind me, and before I can buck back against his crotch to try to see how hard he is, he’s grabbing my ass in both hands.
“Sloan,” I gasp out, my forehead coming to rest against the wood of the door. “Fuck.”
He doesn’t respond. He spreads my ass wide, giving himself what has to be a good look at my pussy, soaked for him. Without warning, two of his fingers slide through the wetness along my folds, and I gasp again, eyes falling closed.
His fingers are thick and calloused, and they feel good as hell where he’s touching me. He spreads me there easily and sinks one finger into the dripping heat of my pussy, making me shiver.
It’s not enough. Not after I’ve had the fullness of his cock inside me, but it’s a good starter.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he mutters, and I can hear it in the way his finger squishes in and out of me. I’d be embarrassed about it if I weren’t so fucking turned on already.
“What are you gonna do about it?” I fire back, but the shaky need in my voice makes it lose some of its edge.
Sloan responds with a grunt and the addition of another finger pressed into me.
He’s not gentle, but then he never is, and he works his fingers in and out of me hard and fast.
I can already feel that heat building at my core, and each point of contact between us just stokes it higher. His fingers inside me, the hand he has on my ass, the heat of his body behind mine. It’s all I can think about, all I can focus on, and my breath goes harsh and panting.
Little moans and whines spill from my lips as he keeps working those fingers in me, and he goes so deep and hard that I end up rocking forward onto my toes and pushing my ass out more to give him more room to work.
All the while, Sloan doesn’t say anything. I can hear his harsh breathing, and I know he’s turned on. Each time his fingers drive deep into my wet hole, he exhales messily and then pulls them out to do it all over again.
It’s like being on fire, caught between the door and his body, letting him fuck me with his fingers until I’m right there, trembling on the edge of what promises to be a damned good orgasm. I swallow hard, trying to breathe through the pleasure and the way my body tightens with it.
And then he stops.
“Fuck,” I groan, disappointment and eager desire making my voice higher pitched than usual. I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder, and I’m about to tell him to get back to it when I see him fumbling to undo his pants and pull his cock out.
My protests die in my throat, and my core clenches as I watch him draw his hard, throbbing cock out of his jeans. It juts out proudly, and his fingers are still slick and slippery with my arousal as he draws them over his cock, lubing it up.
It’s not even really necessary, considering how wet I am, but it’s hot as fuck all the same. Sloan wraps an arm around my waist and uses it to drag my ass out and closer to him. I can feel the hard line of his cock against my ass, but he doesn’t make me wait for it. He guides it right to my pussy, pushing inside in one smooth motion that buries him to the hilt inside me.
And oh god. It’s not even close to the first time he fucked me. It’s so much more intense, so much more of everything.
I’m already so close to the edge from having his fingers working inside me, and I can tell it’s only going to be a matter of time before his cock finishes the job. He hasn’t even moved yet, and I’m already trembling, toes curling against the floor as I wait with my breath slightly held for him to start moving.
It’s slow when he draws himself out of me. I can feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein in his cock as they drag against my walls, lighting sparks of pure pleasure as they go. My hands are sweaty where they press against the door, and I can hear my ragged breathing, loud in the otherwise quiet room.
Sloan draws that first slide out, but then slams back into me, pushing me up onto my toes again as he sheathes himself once more.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’m at a loss for words, wrapped up in the tide of pleasure that’s coursing through me. He does it again and again, fucking me in long, hard strokes that make sure I feel every bit of it, and before I can even get a grip on the rhythm, my body is shaking and tipping over into that pool of pleasure, consumed by the orgasm.
I have to bite my lip so I don’t cry out too loud. Rory and Levi are probably somewhere in the house, and I don’t know where things stand yet. Them hearing me getting fucked by Sloan upstairs is probably not the best thing for repairing our… whatever it is we all have.
But there’s still a little moan as I come on his cock, going tight around him while he keeps pumping into me. My knees go a little shaky, and Sloan pushes forward, moving me closer to the door so I’m no longer bent a little at the waist.
Now he’s tucked right up against my back, our bodies pressed tight together. I can hear and feel his breathing against my ear, and each thrust rocks me up closer to the wood of the door, until my cheek is pressed against it alongside my hands.
Sloan’s hands are at my waist, and he rocks into me hard and fast, his thrusts losing their measuredness as he tries to find his own pleasure.