The Bet
She thought she could use him and walk away, but playing with fire always comes with a cost.
The ladies room was packed, air thick with perfume. I adjusted my lipstick in the streaked mirror, sighing as I tried to shake the feeling creeping up my spine.
One drink in, and already my body was restless. I just needed someone to take the edge off tonight—someone to use.
Another sigh escaped from my chest as I thought about the guys I’d seen so far tonight.
It’s hopeless.
I ran a hand through my long brown hair, smoothing it back into place before pushing my way out of the crowded restroom, slipping past the line of impatient women. The bass vibrated through my heels as I stepped back onto the dance floor to rejoin my friends, only to pause mid-step when I spotted Lia and Miles at the bar.
She held up three fingers to the bartender, her lips mouthing something playful as Miles ran his fingers up her thigh, twisting strands of her golden hair between his fingers. Their flushed faces, heavy breathing—likely recovering from some intense dance session.
I stepped up beside them, raising a brow. "Are you guys done dancing?"
Without really breaking eye contact with her boyfriend, Lia smirked. “Taking a quick break."
They both burst into giggles, completely wrapped up in each other. I shifted on my feet. They never made me feel like a third wheel, yet tonight, something was different from when I left them for a bathroom break. They were giddy, electric, unusually flirty.
I rolled my eyes. "You guys should just go home and fuck."
Lia, still grinning at her boyfriend, replied smoothly, "We just did."
My jaw dropped.
Miles covered his face with his hands, his ears burning red as he laughed into his palms. Lia giggled against his shoulder, delighted by my stunned silence.
I did a quick mental rewind. I had been in the bathroom line for—what? Ten minutes max? Another five to fix up?
Lia, still laughing, looks at me. "You were taking a while, so we thought—" Her eyes slid back to him, giggling, her face growing even redder.
Incredible. I stared at them in shock. "Where?" I said, a bit too loud.
"In the alley," she added, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.
Before I could even process that, the bartender slid our shots onto the bar.
"There you go," he said, oblivious to the chaos he had just interrupted.
Miles was thankful for the distraction. "Ladies…" he muttered, motioning to the shots, still failing to hide his smirk.
Lia, clearly smitten by her boyfriend’s adorable mortification, pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling me between them. Still in shock, I licked the salt from my wrist, threw back the tequila, and sucked on the lime, the alcohol burning its way down my throat.
A new song kicked in, shifting the mood.
Lia’s face lit up. "This is our song! Let’s dance!"
Completely forgetting her boyfriend existed, she grabbed my hand and dragged me onto the dance floor.
I shook my head as we moved with the beat. "You’re insane. An alley?"
Lia twirled, flipping her hair. "It was quick. Four minutes, to be exact."
I nearly choked. "You timed it?"
She just grinned. "It was efficient, and I didn’t want to keep you waiting." She raised her voice over the song. "We had to step outside because Miles got a call from Theo, inviting us to his little house gathering. Then we got a little too horny." She kept smiling. "He offered to pick us up. Do you want to come?"
I frowned. "Wait—Theo knows I’m with you guys?"
"Of course," she said, spinning to the beat.
"I thought he hated me." I said, looking away.
Theo was insufferable. Always picking at me, challenging me, arguing over stupid things in front of the group.
Lia smirked. "He doesn’t hate you, Alice. Actually, I think he might be into you."
I scoffed. "You should stop drinking. It’s fucking with your brain."
"I swear," she insisted, dramatically pressing a hand to her heart. "I’ve seen it. He notices you when you’re not looking and sometimes I see him smiling at you when you’re being silly. I think you genuinely amuse him.”
A strange tightness coiled in my chest.
"So why tell me this now?" I asked, my voice more guarded.
She shrugged. "Because I’ve been dating Miles for a while, and sometimes I wish our best friends would get along. Also…" she smirked, “I think all this bickering is because you’re both in denial."
"What?! No! I am not into him at all." I scoffed. "Sometimes I wish I had the strength to punch his face."
Her smirk widened. "His perfect jawline?" she said, referring to a comment I made about him when we first met—before our petty dynamic developed. She knew I found him good looking at the very least.
I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut.
Damn her.
"You don’t have to believe me," she continued, eyes gleaming. "But I think you should find out for yourself. And if I’m right—which I’m positive I am—maybe you get fucked tonight. Isn’t that what you want?" She lifted her palm, daring me.
“You are saying the most outlandish shit tonight," I muttered. "I’d never give him the pleasure."
But the thought was already in my head.
I shouldn’t be considering it. I hated him. He was arrogant, smug, and always knew exactly how to push my buttons.
But… wasn’t he exactly the kind of guy meant to be used and tossed aside afterward?
It wouldn’t mean anything. Just sex. And that? That would be so satisfying.
Lia must have noticed my silent thought spiral, because she suddenly grinned. "You’re considering it!"
"I am not."
"You totally are."
Then, she took her shot.
"I bet if you fuck him, you’ll both develop feelings for each other. You two have more in common than you think.”
I rolled my eyes. "I feel so little affection for him, I could fuck him and never call him again." My words came out slightly sluggish. Diminishing my confidence.
Damn the tequila.
Lia threw her head back laughing. "Wanna bet?"
My competitive nature flared. She knows I never turn down a challenge. "Fine. If you lose, you’re buying me that designer dress we saw at the mall."
Lia clapped excitedly, eyes gleaming. "Alright, alright! And if you lose, you buy it for me."
The bet was on.
At that moment, Miles appeared at the edge of the dance floor.
"Theo is here," he announced.
Lia grabbed my hand, dragging me forward. "Let’s go."
Miles looked surprised. "You’re coming with?"
Hearing the hesitation in his voice, Lia smirked.
"Oh, she is."
As soon as Miles slid into the car, he smirked. "Invited me ‘cause you miss me?"
Theo scoffed, shifting into gear. "You’re the one who texted me, asking what I was doing tonight—trying to get me to come to a nightclub."
Miles laughed. "And you showed up, so what does that say?"
"That I had a much better idea than a nightclub—my house." Theo shot back, almost cutting Miles off.
Miles chuckled. "Ah, just say you miss me."
Theo rolled his eyes, his smirk widening. "Not even a little."
Lia giggled at their back-and-forth and leaned forward, resting her hand on Theo’s right shoulder. "Thanks for coming to get us, Theo. I’m glad we get to hang out at your favorite place on earth.” she said sweetly.
Theo placed his hand over hers. "You’re welcome."
His expression in the rearview mirror was calm, unreadable—except for the way his gaze settled on me, heavy and deliberate.
"Hi, Alice," he said, still looking through the mirror, his voice unusually warm.
No teasing remark. No follow-up question meant to get on my nerves. Just that.
His eyes flicked back to the road, and I swore I caught the faintest smirk.
I blinked, thrown off by his tone.
"...Hi," I replied slowly, suspicious, studying his dark brown eyes.
As if sensing my hesitation, his smirk widened slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze as he focused ahead.
What the hell was that?
Miles, oblivious, stretched in his seat. "So, how’s the party going? What’s the situation?"
Theo sighed. “It’s going smooth. A couple of my friends are there. Their girlfriends. My sister and her fiancé."
Lia hummed, satisfied. "Sounds chill."
I, however, barely heard the conversation.
Because Theo was looking at me. Again.
The contrast was blatant. Unlike the rest of us, Theo was the only one who seemed completely in control. Focused. Alert.
I caught it in the rearview mirror—a quick glance at first, but then another, longer this time.
Not just looking.
Checking me out.
My stomach tensed.
No fucking way.
If Lia hadn’t said anything earlier, I probably wouldn’t have thought much of it.
But now?
Was she right?
Theo barely ever acknowledged me unless we were bickering.
He teased me, sure. Pushed my buttons.
But this? This was different.
And now that I noticed it, I couldn’t unnotice it.
Another glance in the mirror.
Another sharp flick of his eyes over me before returning to the road.
A slow heat curled low in my stomach.
Fuck.
I swallowed, shifting in my seat.
I knew what it meant. I knew that look.
And worst of all?
I had no idea how to feel about it.
Theo’s place was surprisingly nice—sleek, modern, the kind of apartment that screamed money but without trying too hard. Dim lighting bathed the open living room in a soft, golden glow, and the low hum of music filled the space, adding a lazy, intimate warmth to the atmosphere.
The crowd was small but lively—a handful of Theo’s friends, their girlfriends, and his sister, all lounging across the couches and armchairs, drinks in hand — except Theo — tossing playful banter back and forth.
It was relaxed. Easy. The kind of gathering that made me forget about the outside world for a moment.
Except for one problem.
Theo.
Or more specifically, the fact that Theo was not acting like himself at all.
Normally, the second we were in the same space, it was automatic back-and-forth. A smirk, a sarcastic remark, some bullshit to get under my skin.
But tonight?
Nothing.
He wasn’t teasing me.
He wasn’t arguing with me.
He wasn’t even trying.
And that shouldn’t have bothered me—except for the fact that every time I looked up, his eyes were already on me.
Not in his usual way.
Not with that cocky, smug energy that made me want to roll my eyes and fight back.
No, this was different.
It was subtle, but undeniable.
I’d glance up, mid-laugh, mid-drink, and there he’d be—watching me.
Not smirking.
Not challenging.
Just looking.
And every single time our eyes met, something in my stomach tightened.
It wasn’t playful. It wasn’t irritating.
It was heat.
And I hated that I felt it.
Crossing my legs, I put down my drink suddenly not wanting to sip on it anymore, willing my pulse to steady itself.
The room was comfortable, the music low and slow, but my body wasn’t relaxed at all.
A couple of hours had passed, and the night had started winding down. The easy banter, the low hum of conversation marked the end of a surprisingly good time.
First, the two couples left, and about twenty minutes later, Theo’s sister started getting ready to leave.
As Theo got up to walk them to the front door, my stomach sank.
I was feeling a little more sober now, and the realization hit me—soon, it would be just the four of us.
More like just me and Theo because Miles and Lia had already taken the opportunity to start making out again.
Lia’s legs were thrown over Miles’ thighs, his hands all over her as they kissed—completely ignoring my existence.
I took the cue to slip away, standing and heading toward the hallway bathroom.
I needed a second alone.
The bathroom was further down the hall than I expected, tucked away from the living room. As I shut the door behind me, I exhaled, gripping the cool edge of the sink.
Get it together.
I turned the faucet on, letting the water run over my wrists, pressing my damp fingers to the sides of my neck. The heat was ridiculous, creeping up my spine, making me restless.
I never reacted to him like this.
But tonight wasn’t normal.
The lack of bickering, the way he kept watching me, the fact that he hadn’t given me anything to push back against—it had all thrown me off balance.
I took a deep breath, willing my body to calm the hell down.
And then, just as I was walking out—
I froze.
Theo was right there, approaching as if he’d been on his way to find me.
The moment stretched, too heavy, too charged, his presence too much in the dim light of the hall.
"Alice…"
He stopped a breath away, completely unfazed by the proximity.
"Lia told me you came back here," he said smoothly. "I wanted to ask you something."
I swallowed, trying to seem unaffected. "What?"
His gaze held mine, unreadable. Too steady. Too calm.
"Do I make you uncomfortable?"
The words landed harder than I expected.
A strange shiver ran through me.
I licked my lips, forcing my voice to stay neutral. "Sometimes…" I admitted. But then, I straightened, adding quickly, "Not that I give it much thought."
Lie.
I absolutely gave it thought.
Theo let out a slow exhale, dragging a hand through his hair. "Shit. I’m sorry."
I blinked. I hadn’t expected that.
His expression softened—not with amusement, not with that usual smug energy—but with something real.
"I thought the dynamic was… fun," he continued, his voice lower now. "Amusing, even. I didn’t think it actually upset you. Not until Miles told me last time we all hung out that I should chill because it seemed like you were actually getting annoyed."
I stared at him, my mind spinning.
That was two weeks ago.
So Miles had noticed. Lia had noticed.
Had they been talking about us?
Did they plan this?
Was this the universe conspiring against me?
I must have been too quiet, because Theo let out a sharp breath, shaking his head.
"Oh my god, I’m an idiot," he muttered. "I really didn’t realize I’d actually pissed you off this much." His brows pulled together, his voice softer now.
"I’m so sorry." As he apologized, he reached out and before I could think, he pulled me into what should have been a friendly hug.
But it wasn’t.
Not even close.
His arms wrapped around me, and the contact was instant heat.
A full-body shockwave that started at my chest and traveled lower, coiling deep inside me.
He was so warm, his chest solid against mine, the faint scent of clean cologne and something darker—something purely him—seeping into my senses.
My knees weakened the moment his body pressed flush against mine.
The heat in my stomach dropped lower—a hot, throbbing pulse between my legs that made my breath catch.
I felt completely taken by his warmth, by the fact that he was showing he cared.
"It's fine," I managed, trying to sound unaffected—but I failed miserably.
The words came out breathless, barely above a whisper. Muffled in his chest.
His arms loosened, but instead of stepping back, he placed his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length.
And now?
Now that he was this close, I could really see him.
The sharp, clean angles of his face.
The way his lips parted slightly, his breath warm, mixing with mine.
The depth of his dark, searching eyes, scanning me, frowning slightly—like he was trying to read something he didn’t quite understand.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, hushed.
"Yeah…" I exhaled, holding his gaze.
His eyes flickered to my lips.
He blinked slowly, his pupils dark, heavy with something unspoken—something raw.
The air between us cracked open like a live wire.
As if I wasn’t in control of my body, I leaned in.
His lips were on mine.
The moment our mouths met, the hunger swallowed me whole.
His response was instant, urgent—like he’d been waiting for this.
His lips moved hard against mine, and the second I parted my mouth, he took advantage—his tongue sliding in, stroking against mine, deep, slow, devastating.
I moaned into him, my fingers slipping under his shirt, dragging up the smooth, hot skin of his back.
He groaned low in his throat, a deep, guttural sound, and his hand traveled up, twisting into my hair, gripping just tight enough to make my scalp tingle.
I gasped, arching into him, but he didn’t let me escape.
His other hand slid down, rough fingers gripping my ass and pulling me against him.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
Because he was hard.
Fully hard.
And I felt all of it—the thick, pulsing length of him pressing against my stomach, hot and undeniable, making my thighs clench involuntarily.
The realization sent a sharp, aching pulse straight between my legs.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t breathe.
All I could do was press closer, kiss harder, sink deeper into him, into this heat, into this madness.
Suddenly, he tore his mouth from mine, his breathing ragged, his hands cupping my face.
He stared at me. Pure, unfiltered lust in his eyes.
His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, swollen from the kiss.
And then, without a word, he grabbed my hand.
And led me—quickly, urgently—down the hall, away from the guest bathroom, away from the living room, straight to his bedroom.
Theo led me down the hall, his grip on my hand tight, urgent, like he couldn’t get me there fast enough.
The second we stepped into his bedroom, he kicked the door shut behind us and pulled me into another kiss.
His lips were rough, demanding, his hands gripping my waist, pressing me against him like he needed me to feel just how hard he was.
I could tell he was struggling, fighting to hold on to some sliver of control against the sheer need to consume me.
He groaned, deep and frustrated, his fingers digging into my hips. His kiss turned messy, reckless, his tongue fucking into my mouth, his hands wandering, greedy, impatient.
I moaned in response to his hardness, barely having time to think before his hands slid down, lifting the hem of my dress.
His fingers dug into my ass cheek, squeezing, kneading, his breathing turning ragged at the contact.
And then his hand slid to the front, fingers pushing beneath the fabric of my panties, slipping between my legs.
A sharp inhale left his mouth as his fingers met wet, slick heat.
I gasped, my thighs twitching as his fingers glided through the drenched mess I had become.
"Fuck," he exhales against my lips, his voice hoarse with lust.
Finding my entrance, he cupped my pussy with his hand, pushing two fingers inside, stretching me open, filling me.
He started to fuck me with his fingers, slow and deliberate, his breath ragged against my lips.
My head falls back and I let out a moan louder than I expected.
And that broke something inside him.
He removed his hand grabbing the back of my thighs, lifting me off the ground, still kissing me, still consuming me like he’d been starving for this.
The next thing I knew, I was thrown onto his bed. His fingers reaches for my panties, sliding them down my legs and throwing them on the bed. Locking his hungry gaze on my bare pussy.
Still catching my breath I watch him unzipping his jeans, his eyes locked on my body, dark and heavy with unfiltered need.
I slide my hands up, fingers squeezing my own nipples through my dress, teasing myself in anticipation.
His eyes followed the movement, jaw clenching, and then—
He pulled his jeans down just enough, and my breath caught.
Fuck.
He was big.
Bigger than I expected.
For a split second, I questioned if this was a good idea.
But then he climbed onto the bed, gripping my thighs, spreading them wider, and any hesitation vanished.
He lined himself up, and for a brief moment, he tried to be patient, pressing in just a little, giving me time to adjust.
But the second he was fully inside, all control snapped.
He moved.
Slow at first, then faster—each thrust deeper, harder, ripping moans from my throat that I couldn’t hold back.
He groaned into my neck, his breath hot against my skin, hands gripping my hips so tight I knew I’d feel it tomorrow.
I was already so close, my body clenching, tightening, trembling.
A sharp cry tore from my lips, but he was right there, covering my mouth with his, swallowing my moans.
His hand slid up, wrapping around my throat, holding me in place, his thumb pressing lightly against my pulse as he fucked me harder.
My breathing hitched, my body arching, back bowing as pleasure coiled so tightly I thought I might snap.
It built, higher, hotter, until I couldn’t hold it anymore.
"Fuck—" I gasped, my body breaking apart around him, my orgasm ripping through me, squeezing, pulsing, making me shake.
His rhythm stuttered, a shaky groan leaving his mouth as he buried himself deeper.
"Can I cum inside?" he asked, his voice strained, desperate.
My fingers dug into his back, my legs tightening around him.
"Please—" I gasped, barely able to form words. "Cum inside me."
His grip on my hips tightened, his thrusts turning rough, erratic, and then—
He buried himself deep, letting out a low, shuddering moan as he released inside me.
He held himself there, breathing hard, his body tensed, shaking from the aftershocks.
Slowly, he lowered himself, propping himself up on his elbow beside me, his chest rising and falling against mine.
A few seconds passed, silent except for our ragged breathing.
Then, slowly, he pulled out, collapsing onto the bed next to me.
I turned my head to look at him.
And when he met my gaze, his eyes were soft, filled with something almost sweet.
I look at him in awe, taking in what just happened.
"I thought you hated me," I finally said.
Theo let out a lazy, post-orgasmic laugh, his chest contracting with it.
I couldn’t help but smiling with him. The way he lay there, his wavy dark hair messy from my fingers pulling at it, his lips still slightly swollen, his breathing slow and deep—
Something about it made my chest ache.
Like I was seeing him for the first time.
I felt completely sober now, and it pained me to admit how good he looked. Too good.
That effortless smirk, the way his dimples flashed, the pure ease in the way he stretched his arms over his head, exhaling like he had just won some kind of long-fought battle.
And suddenly, unease curled in my stomach.
His fucking was too good.
And now that I had a second to breathe, I kind of regretted taking him so seriously all this time.
Maybe… I’d been wrong.
Maybe he wasn’t actually trying to piss me off all those times.
Maybe he was just—
He interrupted my thoughts.
"I never came close to hating you," he said, his voice low and raspy, but honest. "In fact, I’d look forward to seeing you—because I actually enjoyed our petty back-and-forths."
I swallowed, my heart picking up speed for reasons I wasn’t ready to analyze.
He shifted onto his side, propping his head up on his palm, his elbow pressing into the mattress.
"It’s a dynamic I’ve never had with girls before," he continued. "It’s... captivating to be challenged."
His gaze flickered down my body, his smirk slowly returning, something heavier passing through his expression.
"You fight me at every turn."
A shiver ran through me, but I forced a scoff. "That’s because you say the most insufferable shit."
His smirk widened. "I think you like it."
I rolled my eyes. "I think you’re delusional."
Suddenly, his phone buzzed, still tucked in the jeans he had just taken off. He reached over, checking the screen.
"Miles texted me. They left and locked the front door."
His words barely registered, because the moment he said that, my stomach dropped.
Oh fuck.
I had completely forgotten about Lia.
About the bet.
And now—now that I was lying in his bed, still throbbing from how good he fucked me—I realized something far worse.
I wasn’t done with him.
I wanted more.
Immediately.
And that meant…
"Oh no."
Theo turned his head, frowning. "What’s wrong?"
I exhaled deeply, pressing my fingers into my forehead.
"I… I have to tell you something," I admitted.
His expression didn’t change, but he waited.
I took another deep breath.
And I told him everything.
The bet. How I’d planned to fuck him as some kind of petty revenge—as if I could just use him and move on. How I’d felt different the moment I saw him tonight. How I had expected him to annoy me, but instead…
Instead, he apologized.
And suddenly, the whole bet felt silly. Childish.
Like some dumb excuse to get what I wanted without admitting I wanted him.
I sighed. "When you apologized… it made me feel like an asshole."
I turned my head, meeting his gaze again.
"The whole thing felt stupid. And the way I was thinking about you earlier—just as someone to use—that feels awful now."
I waited for his reaction.
For him to be upset. For him to say something snarky. To call me out.
But he didn’t.
He just… smirked.
And then I saw it.
He was getting hard again.
I sat up slightly, stunned. "You’re turned on right now?"
He let out a slow, lazy exhale, dragging a hand through his hair.
"You’re telling me you were planning to use me as a personal fuck toy tonight and you expect me not to get hard?"
My face burned, but something in me tightened.
Because fuck, I hadn’t expected that.
Pulling me toward him, his other hand gripping my thighs.
And just like that, his lips brushed against mine again.
"Come here," he murmured, sliding off the bed, guiding me toward the master bathroom.
Theo turned on the shower, steam curling around us as he pulled off his t-shirt, revealing his ripped, sculpted body.
I licked my lips, just standing there, admiring him. His beautiful, toned physique, his thick, semi-hard cock—still slick with my cum.
He caught me staring, a smirk curling at his lips. "Am I a good fit to be used by you? To be your toy?" He raised his palms in mock surrender, his voice teasing.
And there it was. That familiar, sassy tone I used to snap back at.
But now?
Now, it just made me smile. It turned me on.
He didn’t wait for an answer.
His gaze locked onto mine, hands reaching for the dress I still had on, pulling it over my head, stripping me bare.
His eyes darkened in lust.
He took my hand, lifted it, and gently spun me in place, getting a good look at my naked body.
The way he studied me, unashamed, possessive—it made my skin heat, made the fire between my legs burn hotter.
I felt my wet pussy drip.
Partially my cum. Mostly his.
Dripping down my inner thighs.
He noticed. Of course he did.
His breathing turned heavy, his cock hardening to full length again.
But instead of burying himself inside me, like I hoped he would, he pulled me into the shower.
Warm water cascaded over our bodies, washing away the mess on our skin.
It was strangely intimate, both new and familiar, standing under the spray with him.
I felt comfortable around him. More than that—I wanted this. I was enjoying this.
Showering next to the guy I thought hated me. I must be out of my mind. Nothing made sense anymore.
Then, he knelt.
His mouth slid between my legs, his tongue stroking over my drenched, oversensitive skin.
His fingers pushed inside me, curling just right, ripping a moan from my throat.
I gripped his hair, my head falling back against the shower wall.
"Fuck" I gasped, my legs trembling, pleasure climbing too fast.
He groaned, his tongue flicking faster, sucking on my clit, his fingers fucking into me at a ruthless pace.
Helpless moans escaped me as I came hard on his tongue, my body shaking, thighs clamping around his head.
He licked me through it, devouring me, his free hand on my hip, holding me steady as my slippery body trembled.
Then, without a word, he stood up, turned me around, and bent me over.
I barely had time to brace myself before he slid inside me from behind. Gasping as he filled me again, stretching me open.
His grip on my hips tightened, his thrusts slow at first—then faster, harder, completely unhinged.
I cried out, my hands sliding against the wet tile, struggling to stay upright.
"You feel so good," he groaned, his fingers digging into my skin, pulling me back onto his cock. "Is this what you wanted?" He murmured, sliding his hand up my soaked hair and yanking it back. "To be fucked tonight?"
Unsatisfied with my involuntary moans, he pulled on my hair a little more.
"Say it." His voice was demanding, merciless.
"I needed to get fucked," I admitted, my voice desperate, breathless, taking his length with all my might.
"You had all those men to choose from, and you came to my house instead, planning to use me." His breath was heavy against my ear. "Why?"
He was talking about the men at the club. And fuck, he was right. I should’ve picked any one of them. Any other man wouldn’t have turned my night into this complete, unexpected mess.
Wouldn’t have flipped my feelings upside down.
Wouldn’t have handled me like this.
Wouldn’t have made me cum this hard.
"I don’t know anymore," I let out, tension building inside me.
"You do, Alice." His thrusts slowed to a complete stop, his cock still buried inside me.
Keeping me from getting closer to another orgasm.
"Tell me you wanted this before tonight, like I did." He pressed a wet kiss to my neck, his hand sliding over my hard nipples. My heart clenched at his confession.
"Tell me this is why you fight me. Why you care." His lips trailed higher, kissing my cheek, my jaw.
I turned my head, seeking his lips, trying to kiss him instead of answering. But he pulled away. Just enough to look at me. Waiting.
"Tell me." His arms wrapped around me tighter, pressing deeper inside me. Bodies connected.
The feeling of satisfaction, like I’d arrived at a destination I barely knew I wanted to reach.
But deep down, I did.
There was no hiding it now.
All my resistance had come from me wanting to reject the truth. That this felt like it was supposed to happen. The way my body accepted him so easily.
Better yet—invited him in.
His gaze never wavered, his lips inches from mine. "I needed this, Theo.” I finally confessed, feeling defeated in the most satisfying way. My voice barely above a whisper. As if I didn’t want him to hear it.
But he did. And now, he was moving again. His hand slid between my legs, fingers rubbing my clit, his other gripping my neck, keeping me pinned to him as he fucked me.
My body burned, every thrust pushing me closer in a sweet, helpless surrender.
Instead of using him like I planned from the start of this crazy night—
I was the one being played with.
The one being used.
The one being thoroughly fucked.
I played myself.
“So you lost the bet, huh?” His voice was low, teasing—but there was something else there, something darker.
Like he already knew the answer.
His fingers were still sliding through my soaked folds, playing with me, dragging out my pleasure.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
I moaned, meeting his gaze, his wet hair dripping onto my face.
All I could do was nod.
"Good," he murmured, his grip tightening. "Because I’m just getting started with you." A slow, wicked smirk played on his lips—right before he thrust deeper, pulling a desperate gasp from my throat.
Right then, it happened.
Rippling.
Throbbing.
I came on his cock so hard, my knees buckled.
But he caught me.
His hands gripped my hips, holding me up, still fucking me.
He thrust deeper, guiding me through it, waiting until I found my balance again.
And then his lips crashed into mine—raw, desperate, claiming me completely.
His tongue pushed inside, swallowing my moans, devouring me.
When he finally pulled away, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressed against mine.
"No more playing games, Alice." His voice was low, rough—a warning, a promise.
This time he didn’t ask.
He just buried himself inside me, groaning as he spilled, his breath heavy, his grip unrelenting.
His thrusts slowed, his body tensing, but his eyes—those dark, hungry eyes—never left mine.
He watched me, watched my wrecked expression, my parted lips, the way I trembled around him.
Like he wanted to see me take every last drop of him.
A final, shuddering breath left his mouth—then, finally, he stilled.
A few seconds passed, just the sound of our ragged breathing mixing with the water cascading around us.
And then, as if he wasn’t ready to break the moment, he wrapped his arms around me.
I melted into him.
We stayed like that—panting, spent, his heartbeat thudding against mine, still connected.
His forehead rested against my cheek, his breath ragged, uneven.
And as the aftershocks settled into my bones, one thought drifted through my mind.
The bet was a good thing.
Because if I hadn’t made it…
I never would’ve realized how much I wanted this.
And if anyone deserved that stupidly expensive dress…
It was definitely my best friend.
What did you think of the story? Let me know in the comments!
Xoxo, Mia
Ouuuuu, can't wait to see more