“Take your panties off, Sophia.” Complying, I shimmy the small, barely there material down my legs, kicking them off. While I’m losing my underwear, Rebel’s still stroking himself; he pauses for a moment to roll a condom down over his hard-on, completing the movement with practiced ease. His eyes scour my body, taking every inch of it in. “Now press your back against the wall again.”
I step back, doing as he tells me, my chest heaving. Rebel comes for me, then. There’s no more foreplay, no more talking. He moves up against me and places his hands directly under my thighs, lifting me from the ground. My legs wrap instinctively around his waist, tightening when I feel his cock press up against my pussy. God, I want him. I need him so bad. His hands are everywhere, all over my skin, in my hair. He grinds himself upward, rubbing against my sensitive clit. His lips finds mine, and the two of us breathe our need into each others mouths, panting, tongues skating over each other as we kiss.
He takes hold of my jaw lightly in one hand, holding my head in place so that I’m looking at him. “Look me in the eyes, sugar. I wanna see into you,” he says.
I can’t take it. The intimacy of staring into his eyes as he slides himself up against me is too much to bear. I can’t look away, though. I could close my eyes, but there’s something in the way he’s staring at me, so intense and focused, as though I’m the only thing he sees or cares about in this moment. I already know, deep down in my bones, that being looked at like that by him will be an addiction I won’t be able to shake. “You ready to get fucked?” Rebel growls.
“Oh, god. Holy fucking shi—” I cut off when he pushes into me. My mind goes utterly blank. He feels…he feels huge for that first few seconds. Way too big, I feel like I’m going to burst. Rebel freezes, stilling himself, allowing me to get used to the feeling of him inside me. My nipples burn in the best way, my breasts crushed up against his naked chest. It feels amazing. My whole body feels amazing. I feel my pussy tighten around him, reacting to his presence, and Rebel growls.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that. You really shouldn’t have done that.” There’s a dark, sinister look in his eye as he slides himself out of me and then pushes back in again, harder this time. Gripping hold of me in his arms, he starts up a rhythm, slamming himself into me harder and harder each time.
I can barely breathe. I taste blood in my mouth—I’ve been biting my lip hard enough to break the skin. Rebel’s right hand finds its way into my hair again. He jerks my head back, still inside me, still filling me with himself, and bites at my neck. He’s not careful about it. I’m definitely gonna be left with a mark. Right now, I could care less, though. I want him to mark me. I want him to make me his. I know with a hollow, terrifying certainty that I’m never going to want to be anyone else’s ever again.
Rebel’s thrusts grow even faster, his fingers digging into my skin. “You want to come, Soph? You wanna come all over my dick?” he groans.
“Yes! Yes!”
“Then get ready. I want you to break apart in my arms, okay? I want to be the only fucking thing holding you together. Let go, Soph. I’m right fucking here. I ain’t gonna let you go.”
If I’d thought he was driving me crazy before, then what he does next completely blows me out of the water. He slides one hand in between our bodies and he begins to stroke my clit in tight circles, sending wave after wave of pleasure racking though my body. He slows everything down, sliding himself out of me with torturous patience and then carefully pushing back inside.
Pinned up against the wall, my legs still wrapped around his waist, I can do nothing but cling onto him and take it. He has me trembling, on the brink of tumbling over the edge in less than a minute. I tighten my hold on him, staring into his eyes again. He’s hidden himself from me since the second we met, barely told me anything that I’ve wanted to know about him, but while he’s inside me, while he’s connecting with me like this, I can see who he is perfectly. It’s like he just said—he wanted to see into me. I can see into him, and I feel like I recognize him. Like he’s the piece of me that’s been missing all this time and I never even knew it. It’s a scary, overwhelming realization. He gives me a scandalous smile, and fire races through my veins.
“That’s my girl,” he pants. “I can feel you tightening around my dick again. You gonna come for me?”
I nod, my eyes shuttering closed. My body feels taut as a bowstring as I feel the first swell of pleasure rushing up through me, building, building, building until I’m screaming out his name.
Rebel puts his hand over my mouth and pulses inside me, gritting his teeth together as he comes, too. “Holy fuck, sugar,” he growls. “You’re so fucking tight.”
His climax overtakes him then, so that he’s leaning his forehead against my shoulder, thrusting hard into my body. I hold him to me, wanting him closer, more a part of me, more fused to me as our bodies ignite.
Eventually, our breathing slows. Rebel lifts his head, that reckless smile plastered all over his face. He’s always so cocky, always so sharp-eyed and suspicious, but not now. Now, he folds his arms around me and places me carefully on the ground, looking distinctly pleased with himself.
“I think half my father’s guests might have heard that,” he says softly.
“Is that why you did it, then? To cause another scene? Get back at your father?” That thought makes me feel less than special. If I’m honest, it makes me feel suddenly very vulnerable, very sick. Rebel grazes his fingertips across my collarbone and down over my breasts, still able to make me react to him. “No, sugar. I did that because I’ve been desperate to ever since I laid eyes on you. I did it because it’s all I’ve been able to think about for fucking days. It was going to happen eventually. You know that as well as I do.”
And he’s right. He’s telling the truth. Reaching down in between my legs, he traces his fingers lightly over my pussy, growling deep and low in his chest. I know I’m wet from him, slick with my own orgasm. He seems to take great pleasure in rubbing his fingers through my wetness, sliding them up inside me, even sliding them further back, circling his finger around my ass, coating me with myself there, too. No one has ever touched me there before. A spark of embarrassment, coupled with excitement charges through me.
“You’re mine, now, Soph. For as long as you want to be, you’re mine. And I’m yours,” he tells me. “That okay with you?”
I feel paralyzed. I know what I want to say, but I can’t bring myself to part with the words. I’m not ready to. I don’t know why I feel so strongly for him, and that scares the living crap out of me. If I say it, if I tell him yes, it will feel like I’m walking blindly into something I have absolutely no control over.
He grins at me, watching me intently, and I just know that he can tell what I’m thinking. He opens his mouth, is about to say something, but the moment is stolen away by a horrified scream, tearing through the house. For a second I think we’ve been busted, but the scream doesn’t come from the hallway. It comes from somewhere beyond, toward what must be the kitchen.
“Fuck.” Rebel snatches up our clothes and grabs me, pulling me to one side, into what turns out to be a closet containing a fuse box and a stack of sealed cardboard boxes. We’re barely concealed before the door leading to the party opens and people start to pour into the hallway. A second later and we would have been found for sure. Rebel holds out my dress to me, eyes flashing cold fury. “Hurry. Something’s not right.”
Another scream echoes through the house—fear and panic combined. I wriggle into the dress, not worrying about my bra or panties. Rebel finishes dressing moments after I do, fastening the top button of his shirt and smoothing back his dark hair.