I rub slowly, circling clockwise and then counterclockwise, teasing myself through the cotton as I chase my own touch.
Slipping my hand inside my panties, I cup myself, sliding a thin finger inside to spread my juices up to my clit. I find a rhythm, trying to stay still, but my hips are circling against Shane, the feel of him against my ass giving me that extra spark, taking me higher.
I bite my lip, stifling my moans, already so close to coming.
Suddenly, Shane’s hands tighten around me, his hips pressing forward to squeeze his cock between us. I have a split second of hope that he’s still asleep, reflexively pressing against me like he did when we slept on the couch.
That hope is dashed, mortified horror taking its place as he moans, obviously awake, and his hand comes up to cup my breast, pinching my nipple. I don’t know what to do, but then he growls in my ear. “Don’t you fucking stop, Angel. You started this and we’re fucking gonna finish it. Touch that pussy for me. Get yourself off and let me hear you come.”
He grabs my wrist, pressing my palm flat against my core with his. I’m still frozen, but as he moves my hand, his fingers rub with mine against my clit in strong, hard circles. He arches against my back, stroking himself along my ass, and I give in, too far gone to stop.
“Shane, oh, my God . . . so good.”
“That’s it, Angel. Show me how dirty you are, rubbing your hot little pussy while you think I’m sleeping behind you. So fucking innocent. So fucking sexy.” Shane grunts, his hips grinding against me in time with his finger, guiding me to his rhythm.
I gasp, thrumming at my clit faster, bucking my hips to get closer to my own touch and then to massage along his length. “Oh, Shane, I’m gonna come.”
“Do it,” he gasps, his cock throbbing against my ass. “Come for me. Come for me, and I’ll give you the same. Get those fingers coated in your honey so I can lick them clean. Fuck, I need to see if you taste as sweet as you smell.”
Every muscle in my body tenses, riding the knife-edge of pleasure, and with one more brush across my clit, I cry out, feeling myself release intensely. Shane pinches my nipple hard again, pulling on it as I cry out once more. My body shudders, riding the waves of bliss as they roll through my body.
Behind me, I hear Shane grunt, his body jerking as he pulls me tight against his hips, his cum warm through the cotton separating us. I circle my hips one last time, trying to wring out the last drops of pleasure from us both, but Shane has other ideas. He rolls me to my back, half pinning me as he props himself up on an elbow, looking in my eyes. “Give me your hand.”
His fingers encircle my wrist, holding my wet fingers up for his savoring. With a smirking grin, he licks a long line up my index finger before taking it into his mouth and sucking the whole thing deeply. It makes me think of what I could do to him, and my soaked pussy quivers again. I whimper, “Shane.”
He hums in appreciation and repeats the sexy move on my other fingers, his eyes gleaming with appreciation. “You do taste like sugar and vanilla, so sweet, but there’s more, sexy undertones of a dirty girl. Isn’t that right? Maybe you’re not so innocent after all, considering you just used me to get yourself off.”
My jaw drops, indignant anger racing through me. I press my leg to the side. “You did too!”
Shane smirks down at me, and I realize he’s teasing as he gives my fingers a final lick before bending down to murmur in my ear. “Yeah, but you took advantage of a sleeping man, rubbing that tight ass of yours along my cock and touching your little pussy so soft and quiet, like you didn’t want to wake me up. But you can wake me up like that any fucking time, Meghan.”
I cringe inside, keeping my face steady. Meghan. Not Maggie. I can’t believe I just basically had sex with Shane and he doesn’t even know my real name. Is that weird? I’ve never had sex on an undercover job, and I don’t know the moral code for that. Actually, we’ve never even had a date, and that’s a new one for me too.
But Shane must see the flash of thoughts on my face because he lets go of my hand where he’s been licking and suckling along my fingertips to cup my cheek. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Angel? Talk to me.”
I bite my lip, mentally racing through potential reactions and outcomes to telling him the truth, and still not sure if this is the best course of action. But I can’t do this any longer. He’s risking his life to protect me. The least I can do is tell him my real name, especially considering the rest of the lies I’ve told.
Apparently, there’s a big web of lies and deception around us, considering the things I didn’t know about Petals. But this is within my control. If it ruins me, if it ruins what I’ve felt building with Shane for the past few months . . . I’ll have to live with the consequences. If it risks my life, that he won’t want to protect me . . . I’ll walk out the door and do my best to figure out what to do. At least then he’ll know my real name, and if he reacts poorly, then I’ll know better than to ever tell the rest of the truth.
I look down, unable to meet his eyes. “Shane, my name . . . it’s Maggie, not Meghan. I didn’t want to use my real name at a strip club. I’m sorry for not telling you before.”
I can feel the heat radiating from his body, hear his teeth grinding, but I don’t lift my eyes, flinching as he growls. “What the fuck? Maggie? You’d let me fuck you and call out a name that’s not even yours?”
I gasp, looking up at him in pain. “We didn’t . . . I mean, kinda, but not really.”
He jumps up from the bed, his eyes flashing as he paces back and forth before turning to me, legitimately angry and hurt. “Not really? Not sure of your definition, Angel, but what we did is riding a pretty fine line of fucking. Maybe you make a habit of telling guys fake names or not caring what theirs might be, but I fucking don’t.”
He runs his hands through his hair, growling in frustration. I’m mad too, and flustered by his reaction as I sit up in the bed holding the sheet to my body. I’m not yelling, but I’m dang close as I form my reply. “I’m sorry, Shane. It’s just been my work name for so long that I answer to it too. But I wanted you to know in case . . . well, because I don’t go around having sex with guys who don’t know my name.”
Shane grabs his jeans from the chair, sitting down and yanking them up his legs. “Get dressed. We need to hit the road.”
Feeling the shift in the room, I’m embarrassed again by his easy dismissal of me. How does he always seem to do that?
“Yes, sir!” I say with all the sarcasm I have, which is admittedly not much. It’s childish, but I can’t help needling him for his bossiness, the sudden urge to get out of here coming out of nowhere to escape the discomfort of the argument.
He freezes, his voice cold and commanding as he looks at me with eyes that are flashing with warning. “Don’t call me that, Angel. Don’t mess with things you don’t understand.”
I know what he’s talking about. I’m innocent, not stupid, and a curiosity whips across my mind and through my body. The spanking. The promises. Now this? On the heels of my revelation is another ripple of desire.
There’s still plenty of sass in my voice, though, and fiery anger sparking between us as I press him. “Sir? You don’t want me to call you ‘Sir’? Are you sure about that? Because you seem to like it . . . a lot.”
I look down pointedly at the reawakening bulge in his boxer briefs, the dark stain of his cum making him look even bigger and sexier. He moves to stand in front of me, grabbing my hair in his hands and tilting my head up to lock eyes. “You think you want to play? Push me and see where my limits are? Trust me, girl. You’ll break long before I will.”