Drilled Deep in the Dark

“Damn, you don’t waste time, do you?” she laughed, her voice low and teasing.

“Why would I? I know what I want.”

I could feel the rush in my veins, that reckless certainty driving me forward. I wasn’t holding back — not with her. There was this electric arrogance in me, the kind that comes when you’re dead sure the answer’s already yes.

We’d wandered through the city for hours, winding up at this secluded spot — a forgotten little garden tucked behind an old stone wall. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine. She picked a bench half-hidden by overgrown shrubs, brushing off another one because it sat under the harsh glow of a flickering lamp. I didn’t care where we landed. The second we sat, I knew she was mine. The setting was just noise.

“You’re too good at this,” she murmured, her lips brushing mine as she pulled back from a kiss.

“Am I?”

“You know I shouldn’t be here with you, right?”

“Why not?”

“Don’t play dumb. I’ve got someone — Miles. I love him. You’re just… you’re here, and you know how to push my buttons.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It is when it messes with my head.”

“Then walk away. Stop kissing me,” I said, leaning back just enough to test her. Her hand shot out, fingers curling into my jacket, pulling me back until our mouths crashed together again.

“You’re impossible,” she breathed.

“Think about it, Claire. You love Miles. Fine. But you’re starving for this — for me. It’s not like you’re gonna ditch him for some guy you’re just hot for. So quit fighting it and let it happen.”

That was the key. Claire’s resistance melted, and the quiet of that garden swallowed her doubts. Miles faded into some distant corner of her mind, irrelevant for now.

My hands moved on their own, sliding up her sides, finding the soft curve of her breasts under her thin sweater. They weren’t big, but they fit my palms like they were made for me — firm, warm, perfect. I squeezed, feeling her breath hitch, and that sparked something primal in me. She arched into my touch, letting out these quiet, shaky sounds that hit me like a drug.

“You’re a bastard,” she gasped, half-laughing, half-moaning.

“And you’re loving it, Claire. What would Miles think? His sweet girl, melting on a bench with some guy’s hands all over her?”

“He’d lose his mind.”

“You’re mine right now. You know that. And I’m so fucking turned on.”

She groaned, a low, needy sound that sent heat straight through me. I dipped my head, kissing along her jaw, then tugged at the neckline of her sweater, exposing the delicate lace of her bra.

“Wait — not out here!”

“Too late,” I muttered, ignoring her protest.

“Please, someone might…”

Her words cut off as my lips found her skin, kissing the swell of her breast before nudging the lace aside with my teeth. Her nipple was already hard, and when I flicked my tongue over it, she jolted, a sharp whimper escaping her. I sucked gently at first, then harder, rolling it between my lips, tasting the faint salt of her skin. My free hand cupped her other breast, thumb brushing over the peak through the fabric, and she squirmed, her thighs pressing together like she could hold herself back.

“Stop — oh God, don’t stop,” she panted, contradicting herself.

“You taste so good, Claire,” I growled against her skin.

“Keep going, Ethan… please…”

My mouth stayed busy, savoring every inch of her chest, while my hand drifted lower, slipping under her skirt. Her thighs parted just enough, and I found her — hot, slick, pulsing with want. I traced her through her panties, feeling the damp fabric cling to her, and she bucked against my fingers, her moans growing louder, more desperate. She reached for me then, her hand fumbling over my jeans, gripping the hard outline straining against the denim.

“Jesus, you’re rock solid,” she whispered, awe in her voice.

“Get it out. Taste it.”

“No way — not here!”

“Try me,” I said, popping the button open, unzipping slow enough to tease her.

“Ethan, don’t — holy shit, look at it.”

She stared, wide-eyed, as I freed myself, thick and heavy in the cool night air. “Miles doesn’t measure up, does he?”

“Not even close,” she admitted, biting her lip.

“You’re drooling over it. Biggest you’ve ever seen, huh? Now put it in your mouth.”

I guided her down with a hand on her neck, firm but not forcing. She didn’t resist — just leaned in, her breath hot against me before her lips closed around the tip. The wet heat of her mouth was unreal, her tongue swirling slow and deliberate, then faster as she took me deeper. I groaned, watching her struggle to fit me, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked. My fingers tangled in her hair, urging her on, and the sight of her — prim little Claire, choking on me in the open air — pushed me to the brink.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” I rasped. “Miles doesn’t know what he’s got. Don’t stop — keep that tongue moving. Look at you, can’t even take half.”

I was close, too close, but I wasn’t done with her. I pulled her up, her lips glistening, and growled, “I’m fucking you right here, Claire. Panties off.”