By the time I finally left Victoria’s Secret, I felt like the whole day had been one long tease.
Folding lace, straightening silk, pretending to be professional while my mind was already stripping me down.
That one black set with the pink trim had been staring me down every time I passed it, daring me to stop being good. I caved, of course. I always cave.
At home, I couldn’t even wait. I dropped the bag on my bed, peeled my clothes off, and slid into it piece by piece.
The bra cupped me just right, lifted me into something obscene.
The panties barely covered me, just a thin whisper of fabric that made my hips ache to be touched.
In the mirror, I watched my reflection turn into something darker, hotter—like I was my own secret lover.
My fingertips traced the lace over my breasts, then lower, following the line of silk until it dipped between my thighs. Sensitive. Soaked.
I sprawled across my sheets, lingerie biting softly into my skin as I slipped my hand beneath the lace. I couldn’t stop.
The lingerie was my permission. Each touch had me moaning, arching, begging myself for more.
This wasn’t about trying on something pretty. This was about devouring myself in black lace until nothing was left but sweat, tremors, and the sweet ruin of being undone.
A knock shattered it. Sharp, sudden.
My hand froze, breath caught in my throat. Another knock, louder this time. Whoever it was wasn’t leaving.
I opened the door.
He was standing there with his broad shoulders, that half-smirk that always made me weak.
His eyes dragged over me, and I knew exactly what he was looking at.
The lace clinging to my flushed skin, my nipples straining against my bra, the shimmer of wetness staining my panties.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
His gaze burned into me, and the heat rushed even lower.
Then he stepped inside, closed the door with a quiet click, and pressed me back against it like I belonged there.
“You were busy,” he murmured, voice rough, his hand sliding down my waist, fingers brushing the lace like he owned it.
“I—wasn’t expecting you,” I whispered.
His mouth curved, dangerous. “Seems like you were expecting someone.”
Before I could argue, his mouth crashed into mine, hard and claiming, while his other hand slid between my thighs.
He pressed against the soaked fabric until I was moaning, clawing at his shoulders, betraying every secret I’d tried to keep.
The lace didn’t last. He shoved it aside, forced my legs wider with his knee, and thrust into me so hard my back slammed the wood.
I cried out, nails digging into his skin, the door rattling under every relentless thrust.
My bra strap slipped down, and his mouth latched onto my breast, sucking until I gasped his name.
“God, you’re soaked,” he rasped against my skin, pounding me so deep I saw sparks.
My legs wrapped around him, desperate, my feet digging into his back as he drove me higher.
I shattered first, hot and shaking, clenching around him until he groaned and bit down on my neck, thrusting harder until he spilled inside me.
The door rattled in its frame as we collapsed against it, panting, bodies slick and trembling.
But he wasn’t done. Even with his breath still ragged, he stayed pressed against me, lips dragging over my neck like he needed another taste.
His cock twitched inside me, hardening again, and I realized the night had only just begun.
When he finally pulled out, I whimpered at the sudden emptiness.
He smirked at the sound, scooped me up without warning, and carried me down the hall.
My panties dangled from one ankle, my bra strap slipping completely off my shoulder as he dropped me onto the bed.
“Spread,” he ordered, voice hoarse.
I obeyed, thighs falling open, slick and swollen, still trembling.
His gaze devoured me. Then he crawled onto the bed, pushed my bra up, and sucked my nipple into his mouth while his fingers slid inside me again.
I was already soaked, already begging, and when he thrust into me this time, it was brutal, deeper, the bed frame shaking under every snap of his hips.
I clawed at his back, cursed his name, kissed him like I could survive on nothing else.
He shifted, hooked my leg over his shoulder, and drove even deeper until I screamed, my body breaking again around him.
He kept going, merciless, until he spilled into me once more and collapsed against my chest, both of us trembling, drenched, and undone.
The sheets stuck to my skin, the room heavy with the smell of sex.
And still, the way his cock twitched inside me told me the truth. Two wasn’t nearly enough.
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🔥 Excellent work!