We Need To Talk
The shadow shifted again, slow, deliberate.
Then she stood.
Diana.
Her hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders in dark waves that caught the dim light. She wore a black silk cami and a skirt that barely covered her ass, her legs bare, her mouth curved in that smug little smile she always wore when she knew she was about to get away with something.
“You,” I said, voice still rough from the shower.
She didn’t answer right away—just started walking toward me. Slow, swaying her hips like every step was a tease. When she got close enough, her hand slid up the damp plane of my chest, fingers tracing over my skin as if she had every right.
I caught her wrist before she went higher. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by earlier. You weren’t home,” she said, her tone all casual, like she hadn’t just been sitting in my dark bedroom like a damn cat waiting to pounce. “I was driving when I saw your car pull in.” She tilted her head, eyes dancing. “Besides… do I need a reason to come see you?”
She leaned in and pressed her lips to my chest, her breath warm. Then her hand slipped lower, over my stomach, until she wrapped it around me through the towel. She squeezed, slow, deliberate, and my body betrayed me with a low groan before I could stop it.
Her smirk deepened. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Maybe I should’ve told her to leave. Hell, maybe I should’ve been smarter. But there was still a restless, unsatisfied edge gnawing at me from earlier tonight—the one the mystery woman had lit and then walked away from without giving me anything to put it out. Diana was here. And Diana was offering release on a silver fucking platter.
I didn’t overthink it.
My hand closed around her waist, and in the next second I’d lifted her clean off the ground. She let out a little gasp, legs instinctively hooking around my hips as I carried her to the bed. I threw her down, the mattress bouncing under her, and yanked the towel from my waist. My cock sprang free, already hard, already aching for something to take it out on.
Her eyes flicked down to it and then back up to me, her tongue sliding over her bottom lip. I climbed onto the bed, pressing my mouth to hers in a bruising kiss, one hand gripping her thigh, the other already tugging at the hem of her top. She arched under me, making it easy for me to strip the thin cami over her head and toss it aside.
The skirt followed, peeled down her legs in one rough motion. She was left in a lacy bra and panties—pretty, delicate, not for long. My hands were everywhere—roaming, gripping, squeezing—and she was moaning into my mouth, impatient, needy.
She reached back, unclasped her bra herself, and tossed it aside like she couldn’t get it off fast enough. Her breasts were perfect, the kind of sight that could make a man forget his own name. I bent my head and took one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard while my hand cupped the other, rolling it between my fingers.
“Mmm… fuck,” I groaned against her skin.
Her nails dug into my shoulders, her voice breathless. “Don’t stop.”
Her panties didn’t last another ten seconds. She shoved them down herself, kicking them off, leaving her completely bare beneath me.
I reached for the drawer beside the bed, tore open a condom, and rolled it on without breaking eye contact.
From the look in her eyes, she hated that. She always did. Diana had a thing about skin on skin—liked it raw, liked it risky—but I wasn’t stupid.
I kissed her hard before she could complain, swallowing her protest in another groan. My hand slid between her thighs, finding her already slick, and I teased her clit with my thumb until she was rocking her hips up, chasing the friction.
“Ronny…” she breathed, her voice breaking halfway through my name.
“That’s it…you like that?” I murmured, my lips brushing her ear.
“Yes,” she gasped. “More… please…”
That was all it took.
I lined myself up and drove into her in one hard thrust. Her head fell back against the pillow, mouth open in a silent cry, and I didn’t give her time to adjust—I pulled back and slammed into her again. Hard. Deep. My hips setting a punishing rhythm that made the headboard knock against the wall.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” I groaned, my voice ragged.
She screamed my name this time, her nails raking down my back. “Don’t stop… harder, Ronny… please.”
“Take it,” I growled, slamming into her again and again. “Take all of it.”
I caught her wrists, pinned them above her head, and kept moving, fucking her like she was the only thing between me and losing my mind completely.
“God—Ronny—” She wrapped her legs around me, ankles locking at the base of my spine, pulling me in deeper, tighter. The squeeze of her around me was almost unbearable, making me grit my teeth as I pounded into her.
“Fuck, yes… just like that,” I hissed, my forehead pressing to hers.
Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and I bent down to take her nipple into my mouth again, biting just enough to make her gasp. Her back arched hard, her body bowing beneath mine.
I could feel her getting close—her moans sharper, her nails desperate against my skin, the way her pussy gripped me like it was trying to keep me inside forever.
“Come for me,” I rasped, slamming into her harder. “Now.”
Her cry was almost a scream as her climax ripped through her, her body clamping down around me so tight it almost pushed me over the edge.
I cursed under my breath, driving into her a few more times, wringing every last shiver out of her before I followed. My release hit hard, spilling into the condom as I groaned into the curve of her neck.
For a moment, the only sounds were our ragged breaths and the faint hum of the air conditioner. My body was still thrumming, my muscles tense in the best possible way. I pulled out slowly, tied off the condom, and tossed it in the bin.
When I looked back at her, she was sprawled out on the bed, hair a mess, skin flushed, lips parted. She looked satisfied—sated—but her eyes… her eyes were sharp.
She propped herself up on one elbow, still catching her breath.
“We need to talk,” she said.
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