Rose Vibrator on Clit

Maeve's POV

The rose vibrator hummed against my clit. The silicone head pressed and buzzed in tight circles, and waves of pleasure rolled through me. My fingers kneaded my breasts. In my head the plastic was gone. Lucas’s mouth was there. His tongue worked the same spot. His breath was hot on my skin. His hands pinned my thighs open so I could not close them.

“Mhmm…”

I was right on the edge. My hips lifted off the mattress. My breath caught. Every muscle drew tight.

“Yes,” I hissed, and turned the speed up. My hips bucked. Stars broke behind my eyelids.

Keys jingled. The front door creaked.

No. Not again. This was the second time this week he had walked in and ruined the orgasm I was chasing alone in the dark.

I flicked the toy off and shoved the still-warm silicone under my pillow. My chest rose and fell like I had just run the stairs. Sweat beaded on my forehead even with the window cracked and the air conditioner blasting. Panic spiked. I squeezed my eyes shut and lay still.

Please don’t smell it. The closed bedroom air was thick with me, musky and obvious. Guys were supposed to have that sense. And worse, what if he had heard me moaning his name earlier? That would end me.

Heavy footsteps thudded closer. Our bedroom door creaked open. My heart slammed my ribs.

“Quit faking it, Mae. I know you’re wide awake.”

His voice washed over me like dark honey. Low. Amused. It went straight to my throbbing clit.

I held my breath and stayed frozen. The silence dragged. I figured he had given up and gone for the bathroom or the kitchen.

I cracked one eye.

His face hovered inches from mine. Honey-brown eyes sparked with mischief and mockery. Sweat still clung to his skin from practice.

A squeak broke out of me, half yelp and half laugh. I yanked the sheet higher and slapped both palms over my burning cheeks.

“Jesus, Lucas! Personal space much?”

He chuckled, warm and careless, and pulled back just enough to loom instead of crowd me.

“Why are you still awake? I thought you had that big test tomorrow.”

His tone was casual, like he had not just scared the life out of me.

I sat up slow and pulled my knees to my chest, arms locked around them, trying to hide how wrecked I was.

He turned away and yanked his jersey off in one smooth pull. Sweat glistened on the inked muscles of his chest and arms. Dragons and symbols shifted as he flexed in the dim light. My pulse raced harder than the vibrator had. Heat pooled low. I pressed my knees tight so I would not soak the sheet.

Down. Not now.

I had loved Lucas Garrison since we were kids scraping knees on the same cracked sidewalk. Back then he was the neighborhood bully, the one people crossed the street to avoid. Bad news, they said. My bruised little heart latched on anyway, because it was the only attention I ever got.

At home I was invisible. Dad poured all his love into my step-siblings. Stepmom never missed a chance to remind me I was bad luck because Mom died giving birth to me. I was the shadow they stepped around.

He bullied me. He also muscled in like a guard dog if anyone else tried. “Back off, she’s mine to mess with.” Toxic as hell. I knew I should have bolted. That possessiveness hooked me deep, and I craved the burn.

Even at twelve he was hot. Jaw already sharp. Dark hair flopping over his forehead until he shoved it back and those brown eyes pinned you. Straight nose. Lips I had kissed in a million stolen dreams.

Roommates happened out of desperation. College dorms filled up before I could snag a bed. Apartments cost too much, and Dad was never handing me cash. I had no friends. A locked-away childhood will do that, and sharing with a stranger sounded like a nightmare. Lucas lived near campus. I swallowed my pride and asked. He grumbled. He said yes. Under the mean streak, he was not heartless.

Living with him was a fresh kind of torture. Sleeping feet away from him pushed me over the edge. I used toys and imagined it was him, because wanting him and never being allowed to have him was going to split me open. How do you sleep next to fire and not get scorched?

“Are you even listening to me?”

He snapped his fingers in my face.

“Huh?”

My gaze locked on his eyes. Warm as bourbon. I could drown there and call it a good death.

He huffed and raked a hand through his hair, leaving it messier.

“I need you to come somewhere with me this weekend.”

“A date?”

The word slipped out before I could stop it. My heart leaped like an idiot.

His face crumpled, surprise or irritation, and he barked a laugh that held no warmth.

“In your dreams, maybe.”

It landed like a gut punch. I forced an eye-roll and kept my voice light.

“Ouch. Way to crush a girl’s ego at midnight.”

Inside, it hollowed me out. Scraps were still better than nothing of him at all.

“My grandpa’s throwing this big family dinner. Everyone’s gonna be there.”

He leaned against the dresser in just his shorts, arms crossed, looking unfair in the low light.

I folded my arms to match him.

“And I’m invited because…?”

“I want you there.”

Firm. Almost an order. Still vague.

“That’s not exactly a reason, Lukey.”

His jaw tightened.

“Do you really love getting on my nerves? I’ve told you a million times to stop calling me that.”

“You get on mine all the time. Fair’s fair.”

He glared. Heat climbed my cheeks. I cleared my throat.

“For real, though, why me? Why drag your plain roommate to a family thing?”

My voice came out softer than I meant.

“Celeste and Damian will be there.”

His expression went cold and flat. I caught the old wound reopening.

His ex had cheated on him with his own cousin. The betrayal tore him apart in ways he still refused to talk about. I never got what he saw in her beyond the mean-girl vibe. The Garrisons were hockey royalty. Lucas had defied his grandfather by choosing basketball instead, and the tension still sat between them. The old man stayed pissed. Lucas did not budge. That stubborn streak was one of the things I admired when I should have known better.

“So, you up for it?”

One brow arched, like a challenge.

I swallowed and put the pieces together. The fake girlfriend act.

“You want to use me as a rebound?”

The ache cracked through my voice. I could not mask it.

He tilted his head and scanned me slow, from the messy hair on the pillow down the length of the sheet. Eyes unreadable, like he was weighing something he would not name.

“Yeah. Just for the weekend.”

A knife twisted in my chest. I wanted to grab his shirt and beg him to make it real, just once. Desperate girls get doors slammed, so I bit it back. Clinging to whatever scraps he offered was still better than having nothing.

“Okay,” I whispered.

A smirk tugged at his mouth. He reached out and ruffled my hair the way he would a pesky little sister.

“Perfect. We’ll hit the stores tomorrow. I can’t have my ‘girl’ rolling up in those tragic hoodies and sweats. Time for an upgrade.”

He turned without another word and disappeared into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him.

Alone in the dark, the dam broke. Hot tears streamed down my face and soaked into the pillow that still hid the cooling vibrator.

Why did loving him have to hurt so damn much?