HAZEL
His hands came up to cup my other breast, kneading the flesh, rolling the nipple between his fingers. The dual stimulation was incredible. My nipples had always been sensitive, but right now they felt connected directly to my clit. Every touch, every suck, every pinch sent pleasure radiating through me.
He switched sides, giving my other breast the same attention. His mouth was hot and wet and perfect. He sucked my nipple until it was hard and aching, then soothed it with his tongue. His fingers worked my other breast, pinching and rolling until I was gasping.
"Harder," I said.
He bit down on my nipple and I cried out. The pain mixed with pleasure in a way that made my head spin. He soothed the bite with his tongue, then did it again. Harder this time.
My pussy clenched around nothing. I was getting wet again. Ready again. My body was insatiable tonight.
I pulled away from him and moved down his body. His cock bobbed between us, hard and ready. I wrapped my hand around him and stroked once, twice. He groaned, his hips lifting.
"Please," he said. "Please, Hazel. I need to be inside you."
I looked at him. Really looked at him. His hair was a mess. His face was still wet from earlier. His eyes were glazed with lust and desperation. He was beautiful like this. Wrecked and mine.
My pathetic little slave.
"Say it again," I commanded.
"Please. I need you. I need to be inside you."
I straddled his hips, positioning myself over him. I rubbed the head of his cock through my folds, coating him in my wetness. He groaned, his hands coming to my hips.
"You want this?" I asked.
"Yes." The word was barely more than a growl. "Please, Hazel. I need—"
I sank down onto him in one smooth motion.
We both gasped. He filled me completely, the stretch almost too much after so long. I stayed still for a moment, adjusting, feeling him pulse inside me. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise and I didn’t stop him. Let him hold on. Let him ground himself.
"Move," he begged. "Please move."
I did. Slowly at first, rolling my hips, finding the angle that made stars burst behind my eyes. His hands guided me but I was still in control. I set the pace. Used him for my pleasure.
I rode him slow and deep, taking my time. Drawing it out. Making us both crazy with want. Every time he tried to speed up, tried to thrust up into me, I stopped completely. Waited until he stilled. Then started again at my own pace.
"Hazel," he groaned. "You’re killing me."
"Good."
I leaned forward, changing the angle so he hit that perfect spot inside me. The spot that made me see stars. I ground down against him, rubbing my clit against his pelvis with every roll of my hips.
The pleasure built slowly this time. A gradual crescendo instead of the sharp peak from before. I savored it. Chased it. Let it consume me.
Baruch sat up suddenly, pulling me flush against his chest. One hand tangled in my hair while the other wrapped around my waist. He kissed me desperately, his tongue invading my mouth the way I’d invaded his earlier. The shift in power should have annoyed me, but I was too far gone to care.
His lips moved to my neck, my shoulder. Then lower. He found my breast and took my nipple into his mouth.
He came with a shout, his body arching off the bed. I felt him pulse inside me, felt the warmth of his release flooding me. His hands gripped me so hard I knew I’d have bruises tomorrow. Evidence of tonight. Evidence of us.
I kept moving through it, drawing out his pleasure until he collapsed back onto the mattress, spent and trembling. His chest heaved beneath me. His eyes were closed. His whole body was boneless.
I stayed where I was, still connected to him, feeling him soften inside me. Feeling his release leak out around him. The mess should have bothered me but it didn’t. It felt like claiming. Like marking. Like proof.
His hands came up to my face, gentle now, and he pulled me down for a kiss. This one was different. Softer. Tender in a way that made my chest ache. Made something twist behind my ribs.
When I finally pulled away and rolled off him, he turned onto his side to face me. His hand found mine, our fingers intertwining. The gesture was simple but it meant something. Something I wasn’t ready to name.
"Feel better?" he asked quietly.
I did. The chaos in my head had quieted. The whispers and accusations had faded to background noise. The tape, my sister, my parents’ disappointment—all of it seemed manageable now. Not gone, but distant. Like problems that belonged to someone else.
"Yeah," I said. "I do."
He smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. Gentle. Sweet. "Good."
We lay there in silence, our bodies cooling, our breathing evening out. His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. A soothing rhythm that made my eyes heavy.
Outside this room, the world was still waiting. The scandal, the tape, my sister’s machinations—none of it had gone away. Tomorrow it would all come crashing back. Tomorrow I might have to face the consequences of my actions.
But for this moment, wrapped in Baruch’s arms, I let myself forget. I let myself just be. Just exist without the weight of everything pressing down on me.
He somehow made that possible. He liked me for me. And I was starting to feel safe around him.

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