Exclusive Whore

SLOANE

Vance dropped into the deep end and the lit water took him without a sound. The cold hit my skin and died there. Whatever was burning under it stayed. I shoved back through the shimmer until my shoulder blades met rough tile and the wall cut off every exit I had.

"Vance—"

His name barely made it out. He didn't slow. Water sheeted off his chest as he crossed the deep end in a few deliberate strides, slow enough to pretend I still had a chance to run. We both knew I wouldn't take it. My brother's best friend looked finished with patience.

I'm not an idiot. When I offered to let him fuck me, I meant it. Years of wanting him had curdled into an itch I couldn't kill. He turned me down. I swore I'd make him pay for that. Cornered against the tile, the vow felt cheap.

He stopped inches off me. Heat came off his body hard enough to cut the pool cold. Water tracked down his stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his shorts. One hand lifted, barely. I flinched like he was already touching me. He wasn't.

"You don't know how to quit," he said. Low. Rougher than mad.

"You don't either."

No idea where that came from. It left me soaked in adrenaline, too sharp to pass for nerve.

His eyes narrowed. I'd found the sentence that used up the last of his restraint.

His calloused palm slammed the tile beside my ear. Hard. Water jumped off his arm. I flinched, pulse kicking, and the mean pull came back into his mouth, slow.

"This the picture you wanted?" He dragged it out. "Keep poking and I'll lose it. Take you raw, right here, in Mateo's pool, where he could walk out and see the whole thing."

He leaned in. The water he'd pushed aside swirled heavy at my waist. His body took the last of the space. "That the plan, princess? You want me to snap. Grab you. Bend you over this wall and stop pretending I've got manners."

I shook my head. I didn't say no.

Every fantasy I'd built was smaller than this. One time. He fucks me. I get over him. This was already worse, and I still didn't want out.

"Why can't you just do it?" I kept my eyes on the water, his throat, the dark past his shoulder. "Fuck me so we're done. Why won't you?"

His head tipped like he'd misheard.

"Fine." My teeth locked. My voice shook and I didn't fix it. "I'm a brat. I'm desperate. I'm every name you've put on me. So ruin me. Do the thing you've been dying to do. Get it out of both of us."

A low sound left him. Not a laugh. Closer to a man hearing exactly what he wanted and hating that he wanted it.

His finger trailed down my chest, between my breasts, and paused there like the pause belonged to him. "You think one fuck finishes this?"

"Yes."

That finger slid up and closed around my throat. I gasped. I didn't get the air back before he spun me, hands locked on my hips, and drove my chest flat to the chilled tile. He sealed in behind me. Through soaked fabric I felt the full, hot length of him pressed to the small of my back.

"Mateo finds out, he kills me."

He yanked the dress up to my waist. Rough. Final. The last of his restraint went with it.

"I'll kill him before he gets the chance."

His head went back. The laugh had no warmth in it. "You will."

I nodded. I was that far gone. I ground back into him and didn't dress it up as anything else.

"Behave."

The sound I made was helpless. My nails scraped tile. I tried to look over my shoulder and his hand caught the side of my head and shoved it forward.

"Stop teasing. I don't want your fucking foreplay."

Under it, I was already calling myself a whore. This wasn't special. He was a man. It was sex. I could take it and walk.

Then his knee drove up between my thighs and forced my legs apart under the water. Slow. Brutal. I whimpered and bit the sound in half.

"Terms, Sloane."

Right at my ear. His breath lifted every hair on my neck.

He ground in once, just enough to rip a gasp out of me. "You want me to fuck you. Fine."

Another roll, harder. My palms slapped the wall.

His teeth caught the shell of my ear. "The second I put my hands on you, you're exclusively mine. That's the cost. No one else after."

What?

I twisted to look at him and he hauled me up instead. Water poured off me as he set me on the rough, freezing concrete ledge. Night air slapped my wet skin. The heat pouring off him didn't give an inch.

"Vance—"

"Shut up."

He stood between my knees, gripped them, and ripped my thighs as wide as they'd go. The stretch burned. A sound caught in my throat, half squeal, half moan.

He leaned over me, mouth set hard. "If I'm going to fuck you, I have rules."

I squirmed. I wanted off the ledge and I wanted his hands gone, because I did not want to belong to him. I glared up at him anyway.

"I don't do exclusive." It came out sharp and unsteady. "I just wanted—"

"A fuck?" He cut in. His hand slid between my spread thighs and his palm pressed firm to my soaking cunt through wet silk. "That the word you were hunting for?"

My hips jolted. I swallowed a curse.

"You think I'm going to bury my cock inside you," he growled, "feel this tight pussy squeeze me and milk me dry, then watch you walk off like I was a distraction you checked off?"

His thumb shoved the soaked fabric aside. One long finger pushed into me knuckle-deep. A harsh gasp tore out of me. My hips jerked up and my body clamped around the sudden thickness before I could think. He curled it once, slow, and didn't let me adjust.

"You're not walking away from this."

A second finger slid in beside the first and stretched me open until my pupils blew wide. He leaned in close, watching my face under the raw fullness of it.

"You want to fuck like strangers. Fine." His voice had dropped to a growl. "This pussy is mine from this second on. Every goddamn time you think about getting off, it's me."

I hadn't written this far into any fantasy I had. It already felt like a line I couldn't uncross.

"Secret fuck buddies?" I panted it, nails dug into the concrete. "That's all you want?"

He didn't answer. His fingers twisted deep and curled hard against my inner walls. My spine arched. His thumb landed on my swollen clit and rubbed mean, tight circles, and a broken whimper left my chest.

He laughed, low, from the back of his throat. "Fuck buddies. You rate yourself too high." The pressure didn't let up. "I don't want a fuck buddy, Sloane. I want you to be my exclusive whore."

The filth of it hit my blood and my head went useless. I clenched around his fingers. My hips chased his hand before I could stop them.

He pulled out slow. Slick. Filthy. The drag left me hollow and shaking on the cold ledge, dress still shoved up, thighs still open.

Before I could cover myself, he caught my arms and set me properly on the lip so my legs dangled back into the dark water. His hands left my skin.

"What the hell are you two doing out here?"

Mateo's voice cut across the patio from the doors. Sharp. Close.

Panic locked my chest. My brother stood just past Vance, and I was half-naked on the coping with my dress at my waist. Caught. I was sure of it. His stare landed and stayed, and I had nothing on me that would make this look clean.

Vance didn't flinch. He stayed loose and he didn't look away from me. He lifted the two wet fingers that had been inside me and dragged his tongue over them, slow, tasting me while Mateo stood right there. He swallowed. Then he turned, easy.

"Nothing. Your sister's wasted. Stoned out of her mind, from the look of her. Take her inside and discipline her properly."

He walked off across the deck and left me on the stone, half-naked, freezing on the outside, burning with a heat he'd started and refused to finish.