Chapter 416

I stared at the screen, jaw tight, as Kayla did another slow spin in the red dress. The way it hugged her ass—tight, obscene, riding up just enough to show the bottom curve of her cheeks—made something hot and possessive twist low in my gut.

"Wait," I said, voice rougher than I meant it to be. "Are you really going to wear one of those? Nah. Pick another one."

Kayla stopped mid-turn, one eyebrow lifting slowly. A knowing little smile curled her lips.

"Ohhh," she drawled, dragging the word out. "Jealous, baby?"

I didn’t answer right away. Just swallowed, eyes locked on the phone screen propped against the dash.

She laughed—soft, teasing, delighted—and stepped closer to the camera so her face filled half the frame, cleavage spilling forward in the halter neckline.

"You don’t want me going out looking like this?" she asked, voice dropping to that husky whisper she knew drove me crazy. "Don’t want other guys seeing how good my ass looks in this dress?"

My cock throbbed against my zipper. Hard. Painfully hard.

"Kayla..." I warned, but it came out more like a groan.

She bit her lip, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Too bad," she murmured. "I was really feeling this one."

Then she reached behind her neck, untied the halter, and let the dress slide down her body in one smooth motion. Fabric pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it, kicked it aside, and stood there in just the black lace bra and panties—curves on full display, skin flushed from the teasing, nipples visible through the thin cups.

The light turned green.

I hit the gas—too fast—tires chirping slightly as I pulled forward. My eyes flicked between the road and the phone.

Kayla climbed onto her bed, taking the phone with her. She lay back against the pillows, propped the device between her breasts so the camera angled down her body—long legs stretched out, panties stretched tight over her mound, bra straps slipping off her shoulders.

"Are you busy tonight?" she asked, voice casual, like she wasn’t currently half-naked and dripping honey at me through the screen.

I merged into the next lane, pulse hammering in my ears.

"I’m going to help Mendy rearrange her bedroom."

A tiny pause.

"Ah..." She dragged the word out, disappointed but playful. "So you wouldn’t have time to visit me?"

Fuck.

The mental image hit like a freight train—Kayla spread out on her bed, legs open, waiting for me while I wasted time moving furniture for someone else. My cock jerked hard enough that I had to shift in the seat.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. Then louder, rougher: "I’m coming there right now. Don’t fucking wear anything, okay?"

Kayla turned the phone toward her face for a few seconds, her eyes lit up—bright, triumphant.

"So you choose me over Mendy?" she asked, voice sweet and dangerous.

I nodded once—sharp, decisive—without even thinking.

She smiled—slow, wicked—and slid the phone lower. The camera panned down her body, past her breasts, over the soft plane of her stomach, until it settled between her thighs. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, tugged them to the side.

Her pussy came into view—pink, swollen, glistening with arousal. She spread herself with two fingers, letting me see how wet she already was, how ready.

"Then I’m waiting for you, handsome," she whispered.

The screen went black.

Call ended.

I stared at the dark phone for a full second, breathing hard, cock straining painfully against my jeans. Then I flicked on the turn signal, cut across two lanes, and aimed the car straight toward her place.

Fuck Mendy’s bedroom. Fuck the schedule. Fuck everything.

I was already late anyway.

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I knocked once—sharp, impatient—then stepped back half a pace.

The door swung open after a few seconds.

Kayla stood there in exactly what she’d shown me on the call: black lace bra pushing her tits up high, matching panties already damp at the crotch, hair loose and messy like she’d been running her fingers through it waiting for me. Her lips curved into that slow, knowing smile the second she saw my face.

I didn’t say a word.

I stepped inside, kicked the door shut behind me with my heel, and grabbed her by the waist. She yelped—half laugh, half gasp—as I lifted her clean off the floor. Her legs wrapped around my hips instantly, ankles locking at the small of my back, thighs squeezing tight. Her arms looped around my neck; her breasts pressed soft and heavy against my chest through my shirt.

I carried her two steps forward and pinned her back to the bedroom door—hard enough that the wood rattled in the frame.

"Not wearing any of those dresses tonight," I growled against her mouth. "They’re too fucking revealing. You’re not going out like that."

Kayla’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She tilted her head, lips brushing mine.

"I think I’ll be a bad girl and wear them anyway."

I kissed her—rough, hungry, swallowing the little moan she let slip. My cock was painfully hard already, straining against my jeans, pressing right up against the damp lace between her legs. I ground into her once, eeling the heat of her cunt through the fabric.

"Make me not wear it," she whispered when we broke for air. Her voice was breathy, challenging. "Make me, Evan."

I kissed her again—deeper this time—tongue sliding against hers while one hand slid down to grip the thick curve of her ass. I squeezed hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh. She whimpered into my mouth.

Then I turned, still carrying her, and walked us to the living-room couch.

I dropped her onto the cushions—gentle enough that she bounced once, legs splaying wide. She looked up at me with dark, hungry eyes while I stripped fast: jacket shrugged off, t-shirt yanked over my head, jeans and boxers shoved down in one go. My cock sprang free—thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip.

I knelt on the couch between her thighs, hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties, and dragged them down her legs. She lifted her hips to help; the lace caught briefly on her ankles before I tossed it aside.

I slid two fingers straight into her pussy—no warning, no teasing. She was soaked—hot, slippery, walls fluttering around my knuckles the second I pushed in. I curled them upward, stroking that spongy spot inside her while my thumb found her clit and circled slow.

"Fuck... look at this greedy little cunt," I murmured, voice low. "So wet already. You were touching yourself waiting for me, weren’t you? Getting that fat ass ready for me to wreck."

Kayla moaned—long, throaty—head tipping back against the cushions. "Yes... God, yes... couldn’t help it..."

I pumped my fingers faster, curling harder, thumb pressing firm circles on her clit. Her hips bucked up to meet every thrust. I slapped her ass once—light but sharp—watching the flesh jiggle, loving how full and round it was under my palm.

"Love this huge ass," I growled. "So fucking soft. So perfect to grab while I fuck you. You know how many times I’ve thought about bending you over and just burying my face in it?"

She laughed breathlessly, then moaned again when I added a third finger—stretching her wider, slick sounds filling the room.

Kayla stretched her legs wider—knees toward the ceiling, thighs trembling in the air, opening herself completely. Her pussy glistened around my fingers, clit swollen and dark pink, begging.

I pulled my hand free, watching her hole clench on nothing. Then I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked them clean—slow drags of my tongue, tasting her, salt and sweet and pure want.

"Goddamn, you taste good," I said, then plunged them back inside her—three deep, pumping fast.

"Mmm..."

"You gonna be my good girl tonight?" I asked, voice rough. "Or you gonna keep teasing me about those dresses? Because if you wear one of them out, I’m gonna drag you into the nearest bathroom and fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight tomorrow."

Kayla’s hips jerked. "I—I’m close... Evan..."

I sped up—fingers slamming in and out, thumb grinding hard on her clit.

The interface flickered in my vision:

╭────────────────────╮

Orgasm Control

==========================

Target: Kayla

Arousal: ■■■■■■■■■■ 92%

==========================

[1] Deny Orgasm

[2] Ruin Orgasm

╰────────────────────╯

I leaned in close, lips brushing her ear.

"You gonna wear any dress other than those tonight?"

Kayla shook her head frantically. "No. I will wear those, Evan. You can’t... make... me."

I selected [1] Deny Orgasm.

Her whole body locked up—thighs shaking, pussy clamping down hard around my fingers like a vice. A choked whine tore out of her throat; her hips bucked once, twice—desperate—then the wave simply... collapsed. The orgasm died before it could crest. She groaned—long, frustrated, wrecked.

"Fuck... oh fuck..."

I pulled my fingers out slowly. Kayla’s hand shot down between her legs—trying to finish herself—but I caught both her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand.

"This is nothing," I said quietly, voice steady. "Trust me, Kayla. This is nothing."

She stared up at me, eyes glassy, chest heaving, lips parted, still trembling from the ruined edge.

I held her gaze for a long second.

Then I leaned down and kissed her, slow, deep, while my free hand slid back between her thighs.