I’m hot all over and slick between my legs. I’m wanton and desperate and if Bas doesn’t fuck me soon, I’m going to tackle him to the bed and do it myself.

But I don’t have to take over, because his hands are on my hips and then everything changes. Every nerve in my body tingles differently when he’s touching me, when he’s firm—ah, and rough, that’s good too. The hard bite of his fingers into the curve of my flesh makes me bow my head, search for a pillow to bury my screams in.

“You like that, little one? My hands on you?”

I groan and nod, and his next press is on my back, pushing the air out of my lungs. Ah, again. I twist my head to the side so he can see my smile.

His fingers rake up my back, over the lacing on the corset, and tangle hard in my hair. A tug. Another smile.

“Like that, too?”

“Mmm.”

“I’m going to fuck you now.” A statement. A promise. A threat, if I drift into fantasy land. So good.

“Please…”

He’s so big, he can do it while he’s got his hand tangled in my hair, holding me down. He notches his cock against my wet, slick hole and pushes inside. Hard. Rough. Perfect in its stretch, amazing in its depth. He takes up space inside me I didn’t know I had to give, and he lights it up with magic.

The street fair is long gone now, but I can still hear the music, the laughter, the kinky delight.

Arching my back, I push back against him, bringing him deeper into my body. All the way in, until his body is pressed hard against mine.

I ache and feel good—so good—at the same time. Like I’m going to have to get used to having him buried in me, and I kind of don’t want to forget the shock of his size.

And then he starts moving. Slowly at first, dragging his solid length out of me and pushing back in. More magic, more shock.

“So good,” I tell him, and my voice doesn’t even sound like me. I sound better. Like Meadow+, now full of perfect cock. I laugh a little, and it fades into a happy sigh.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, Bas…”

“That’s what I like to hear. You want more, little one?” His hands are on my hips now, he’s let go of my hair and he’s holding on to my sides, his fingers tangled around the garter belt straps, like I should be warned of impending thrusts.

“More.”

His next thrust is harder, and the one after that faster. I close my eyes and bury my face in the bed, giving myself over to the sensations.

His hands. His cock. The wet slap and the thick drag against nerves.

His sounds.

The flex of his body behind me, and then, when he starts to fumble, on top of me. He pushes forward, almost crushing me—yes, please, be heavy—but then he pulls out—no!—and flips me over. It’s just a few seconds but I ache at the loss of him. I reach for his slick, condom-covered cock and bring it back to my cunt, fitting us together as he tumbles down.

We move as one. Kissing, fucking. My costume is in the way a bit but it doesn’t matter. I’m close now, everything tight and needy. Rub, push, rock, fuck.

When I come, it’s an explosion. And even as my climax rockets through me, I can feel Bas shudder, then long, heavy pulses deep inside me. I hear him, too. New sounds. A guttural gasp of relief, then something else.

My name, over and over again, breathed against my neck, where he’s buried his face.

“Meadow, oh, Meadow, fuck yeah, Meadow…”

It’s beautiful. I press my hand to his head and hold him. In the last week, he’s held me over and over again. Now it’s my turn to soothe the giant, and something wonderful slips into place inside me.

We lie like that longer than we should when there’s a condom to deal with, but it’s fine as he pulls away. He disappears into my bathroom for a moment, then returns. “Do you need to pee?”

I grin. “Yeah, be a second.”

When I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I laugh. The corset is sideways, the tutu is ripped—but repairable. And I’m very glad I didn’t wear more makeup, because the mascara is streaked. I quickly wipe that away, then take care of business and rejoin him on the bed.

“So, funny story,” he says as he unlaces my corset, his fingers tickling my skin with each pulling release.

I shiver. “Mmm?”

“I saw someone I wasn’t expecting to see tonight.”

I guard myself. “An ex?”

“God, no. This wouldn’t be the time for that kind of a share.”

“Right. But I’d be cool with it. I mean, sharing is good.”

He chuckles under his breath and kisses my bare shoulder. “You wouldn’t be cool with it. You’re adorably possessive and that’s just fine with me. No, I saw the wife of a friend. Well, I guess she’s an acquaintance, too, although I know Max more than Violet.”

I freeze. Max’s wife was here tonight? He hadn’t said she’d be here. But Max wasn’t a sharer. And we aren’t really that close, other than him knowing the stupid secrets I blurt out in staff meetings.

“Max Donovan?”

“Do you know him? He’s a doctor, too, so I thought you might. Small world.”

“Very,” I murmur. “So why is that a funny story?”

“Well, what happens in the dungeon usually stays in the dungeon, but I also like to prepare partners in advance—full disclosure and all that. Honesty is the best policy.”

“Max goes to dungeons?” I squeak it, and it comes out wrong. I twist awkwardly, trying to get Bas to see my face. Like I’m not judging that—at all. “That’s cool. Super fine.”

Bas gives me a gentle smile. “And we don’t ever have to do that if you don’t want to.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Dungeons sound…well, they sound made-up, to be honest. Like something out of a book or a movie, not like real things that people I work with actually go to. Although now that you’ve said that, it explains a few things. A lot of things. What do you mean his wife was here tonight and it’s funny?” My words are spilling fast now, total stream of consciousness.

Bas takes my hands. “Calm down. She’s good friends with Ellie Strong. It was a girls’ night out thing.”

I’d seen the PM’s wife from a distance. I’d assumed all the women with her were bodyguards or something. “Right.”

“And it’s just that I realized our worlds might collide, and I should be upfront.”

Oh God, I’m going to throw up. “About that.”

“Yeah?”

I wince. “So a while ago, you had a conversation with Max. I don’t know exactly what it was about, but he brought up a doctor friend of his he thought you might like to meet. And you asked for her number. Max didn’t want to overshare, so he said—”

Bas’s face freezes granite hard. His mouth barely moves. “He said he’d give my number to her instead. I never heard from her.”

“Because I came in person,” I whisper. “To introduce myself. There was another woman, though, you called her lovely, and then you asked if I was here to see the apartment.”

“You weren’t here for that.”

“No.”

“You rented this place, though.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t need an apartment?” He blinks at me, then his face falls. “Fucking hell, Meadow, do you have another place close to the hospital?”

Panic screams through every cell in my body. “Bas, it’s complicated.”

“I bet it’s fucking complicated, Jesus Christ.” He shoves off the bed and grabs at his clothes. “Don’t—I mean, what the fuck—were you ever going to tell me?”

“I rent out my condo,” I say miserably. “To AirBnB people. I only sleep there if I’m on shift and it happens to be vacant. This is where I live now.”

“Because you couldn’t be up front with me.”

When it says it like that, it sounds exactly as terrible as it is. “Bas—”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head as he yanks on his pants. “Just…don’t.”

And then he leaves. All my words die on my tongue, and all my hopes disintegrate in his wake as he storms out.