We froze, my cock still buried inside her, my heart slamming against my ribs. Jasmine's eyes went wide, but a wicked grin tugged at her lips even as we held our breath.
Footsteps. Slow, casual. Someone walked across the tiles, the squeak of their shoes loud as gunfire to my ears.
The sink squealed on, water rushing. The stranger cleared his throat, humming softly to himself while he washed his hands.
Jasmine's nails dug into my back as if to say don't you dare move. But my cock was buried so deep, throbbing like it had its own heartbeat, and just staying there felt like torture. I couldn't help it—I pulled back an inch, then slid forward again.
Jasmine bit my shoulder to stifle a moan. Her breath was hot against my skin, her body trembling.
"Evan," she whispered, barely a breath. "You're insane…"
"Can't stop," I muttered against her ear, my hips making the tiniest movements, shallow thrusts that kept us joined but still grinding her walls.
