Timed Stranger and Breathless Gala Guest
Harper’s spine hit the coat rack hard enough to rattle hangers as Jett’s teeth closed on the frantic jump of her throat, the sting blooming hot under his mouth. “Three minutes,” he hissed, lips moving against the lobe of her ear. “Lock won’t hold. We don’t have time, so stop thinking and let me fuck the sense out of you.”
Then his mouth went back to her neck and stayed there. He bit just under her jaw first, a sharp closing of teeth that made her whole body jerk against the hangers, then he sucked the sting into something hotter, a slow wet pull she could hear in the dark, the obscene little pop when he let go. He moved an inch lower and did it again. Her pulse slammed against his tongue and he chased it, teeth sinking into the cord of her throat, sucking hard enough that she knew it would be purple by the time the champagne was poured. Harper slapped her own hand over her mouth and bit the meat of her palm. The wool-scented air was full of the sound of him: wet, hungry, unhurried in a way that felt like a dare against the clock. His mouth slid down to her collarbone, bit the ridge of it, licked the bite, then dragged back up to the hollow beneath her ear and sucked until her knees went loose. Every bite was a cold sting, then heat spreading out under the skin like something spilled. She was grinding on his thigh before she knew she was doing it, dress already hiked to her hips, the slick heat of her cunt dragging shamelessly against expensive trouser wool.
His hand shoved between her legs, hooked the sodden lace of her panties and shoved it aside, and two fingers slid straight into her, curling hard. “Fuck, listen to that,” he breathed into the hair behind her ear, the wet click of his fingers filthy in the quiet. “Dripping like you’ve been waiting all night for a stranger to bend you over the coats. Two and a half minutes. Try to keep it down, they’re about to say something very moving about the foundation.”
He dropped. Not gracefully: his fingers came out of her and both hands went to the lace at her hips and dragged, panties peeling down her thighs, over her knees, and he yanked them off one heel and then the other and flung them somewhere into the dark. Then his hands clamped her hips and hauled her forward, her shoulders still braced on the rack and her hips jerked out to meet him so hard three coats slid off their hangers and heaped at her feet. He wedged his shoulders between her thighs, forced them wide while she swayed on her heels, and sealed his mouth over her cunt in one starving lick. His tongue went inside her. Not teasing, not circling, just pushed in and curled and fucked her with slow drags while his nose ground against her clit. Harper’s head knocked back into the rack and she bit her own wrist, hard, the pain the only thing keeping the sound in. He hooked one of her thighs over his shoulder and opened her further, her other foot skidding for purchase on the floor, and she felt the slickness running out of her, down the crease of her thigh, dripping onto the pile of wool and cashmere somebody paid too much for. Then he moved up and closed his lips over her clit and sucked. Steady, wet, relentless pressure, his tongue flicking under the hood while his mouth pulled, and the hum he made when she bucked went straight up through her like a struck wire. Her fingers fisted in his hair. Her thigh clamped on his shoulder. The pleasure was so sharp it felt mean, like he was pulling her apart one lick at a time and enjoying how badly she was failing to stay upright.
He surged up her body, her leg sliding off his shoulder, her foot hitting the floor with a jolt as his hand took the place of his mouth, two fingers shoving back inside her and his thumb grinding her clit while his teeth caught the edge of her ear, his chin gleaming against her cheek. “You hear yourself? Every time I suck you make this noise. Little broken thing. Whole room’s going to think the help is crying in here.” Then he dropped again, hooked her thigh back over his shoulder, and did it harder, and she cried into her own wrist until she tasted skin. He licked her through it, the flat of his tongue dragging through the mess he’d made, lapping it up with a sound that was almost worse than the feeling. Then he eased her leg down, her heel finding the floor on a wobble, and rose the full length of her body until he was standing over her again, his mouth wet to the jaw, one hand already yanking his fly open while the other fisted in her hair and tipped her head so his lips landed on the hinge of her ear. “Taste like you need it rough. On your knees. Now. Grind that pretty cunt on my cock before I lose the last two minutes being polite.”
He sat back, ass hitting the coats, knees bent and spread, and dragged her down by the hips. Her knees hit the piled wool, the floor hard under it, on either side of his thighs. Face to face, foreheads nearly touching, his cock came out thick and already gleaming at the tip. She settled into the cradle of his lap and sank down onto the hot length of him without taking him in. Just the full weight of her bare cunt pressed along his shaft, clit riding the ridged underside, slick spreading over him until he shone with it. The first slow drag made her breath break. The second made her hips stutter. The heat of him against her was almost too much, hard and pulsing under her, and every pass the fat head of his cock caught at her entrance, notched there for a half-second, dragged a wet little sound out of her, then slid past.
She pressed her mouth to his neck and breathed there, panting against the damp collar of his shirt, then dragged her lips up to his ear. “God, you’re so fucking hard. Rub it right there. Yeah. Just like that. Make me mess all over you.” Her thighs were shaking. Sweat gathered at the small of her back under the dress. She could hear it, the slick drag of her pussy along his shaft, the soft wet click every time his cockhead kissed her hole and didn’t push in.
Jett’s hands clamped her hips and forced the grind longer, meaner, his breath hot in the hair at her temple. “That’s it,” he whispered, so low it was almost nothing, almost just inside her head. “Soak my cock. Get it dripping so I can shove it all the way in and feel you choke on it.” He tilted his hips so the head caught deeper, a quarter inch of stretch, and held her there, letting her feel it, and she whimpered into his shoulder and tried to sink and he held her still. “No. Not yet. Grind. I want to feel you drip down my balls first.” Another pass. Another catch. Her clit was swollen and sparking, dragging over the hard ridge of him so wet there was no friction left, just heat sliding on heat. “Ninety seconds,” he breathed at her ear. “They’ve started the speech. Want to hear what they’re grateful for while I fuck you?”
He tipped her. One arm around her back, the other under her thigh, and he rolled her off his lap and laid her back onto the heap of coats and came up over her on his knees, catching one ankle, then the other. He pulled. Her legs went up and back until her knees were nearly at her shoulders, hamstrings screaming, her cunt tilted up and open and offered with no way to close it. One hand let go of an ankle just long enough to fist his cock and notch the head against her, then it was back on her ankle, both of them pinned down into the wool beside her head, his weight dropping onto her folded body as he drove in to the hilt in one stroke. The stretch burned perfect and the depth hit so hard her mouth opened on a sound that had no air behind it, her hands scrabbling at the coats for something to hold. He didn’t give her a beat. His hips pulled back and snapped forward and the angle was obscene, every thrust bottoming out against something deep inside her that made her stomach clench, his pelvis grinding down on her clit each time he landed.
“Fuck. Tight,” he breathed against the rim of her ear, his weight bearing her ankles down further. “Take it. All of it. Feel how deep I am? That’s mine for the next sixty seconds. Milk me. Come on my cock like the desperate little stranger you are.”
She couldn’t move. That was the thing that undid her. Her legs were pulled so tight she couldn’t lift her hips, couldn’t angle away, couldn’t do anything but lie there folded and take the rhythm he set, and she found herself counting it. One. Two. Three. Each thrust a full withdrawal and a brutal return, the wet slap of his hips loud and shameless, the slick running out of her onto the coats underneath. Four. Five. His mouth never left her ear. “Harder? You want it harder? Then take it. Clench. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, your cunt’s gripping me like it never wants me to leave.” Six. Seven. He shifted his grip on her ankles and the angle changed again, the head of him dragging over the spot that wiped the room down to the dark ceiling and the shape of his shoulder. Sweat dripped off his jaw onto her throat. Her own panting was ragged and wet and she had her wrist in her teeth again. “Come. Do it now. I’m not pulling out and I’m not slowing down.”
His tongue caught the lobe of her ear and he exhaled one last line against it, barely a sound. “Forty seconds. Give it to me.”
She felt it coming, a tightening behind her clit that spread outward and locked her thighs in his grip, and he felt it too, because his mouth was already coming down over hers as she tipped. The kiss landed first. The first cry broke straight into his throat, swallowed before it existed, his lips crushing hers, teeth catching her bottom lip, his tongue in her mouth while her cunt clenched and fluttered and gushed around the thick drive of him. Every pulse of her orgasm pushed another sound up out of her chest and he ate every one, his mouth sealed over hers so completely there was no air, just the vibration of her moans against his lips and the wet heat of his tongue. She shook. Her legs trembled in his hands and she couldn’t close them and couldn’t stop and he fucked her through it, two more thrusts, three, his rhythm breaking.
Then he came. She felt the exact second it hit him, his cock swelling thicker inside her, his hips jamming deep and staying there, grinding, and the low rough grunt he made went straight into her mouth and stayed there, buzzing against her teeth. Heat spilled inside her in hard pulses she felt in her stomach, his whole body locked over hers, every jerk of his hips pushing another spurt deep while his kiss turned bruising, suffocating, his hand leaving one ankle to grip her jaw and hold her face to his, the other still crushing her ankle into the wool. Neither of them breathed. Her whimper, his grunt, the last few wet thrusts, all of it died between their mouths until her lungs burned and her lips felt swollen and raw and she was lightheaded with the lack of air and the ache of him still pulsing inside her.
A distant chime cut through the wool. Glasses. The toast.
Jett pulled out with a wet sound that made her clench on nothing and his come slipped out after him, warm on the inside of her thigh. They scrambled. She yanked her dress down over slick, bare skin, didn’t waste a second hunting the dark for the lace, pressed a hand to the fresh bruise under her jaw that was already throbbing. He tucked himself away, zipped, raked a hand through his hair until the tux looked almost accounted for, mouth swollen and shining. Then he bent, plucked something small and dark off the floor, and slid it into his jacket pocket without looking at her. No words. No eye contact. Nothing. He might as well have been checking his coat.
Harper got to the door first, turned the lock, and cracked it an inch. Applause rolled in from the ballroom, a hundred people clapping for a cause. She swept her hair forward over the mark and slipped out into the noise with nothing under her dress, her thighs still wet and her mouth still tasting like his. Ten seconds later she saw him cross the far side of the room, glass already in hand, laughing at something a woman in silver said, a complete stranger again, except for the ache still pulsing between her legs, her panties riding in his pocket, and the hot, airless press of his mouth that she could still feel every time she tried to take a full breath.
