Chapter 5: Risk, Spanking & Bondage

Mid-afternoon light slanted across the laundry room, warm and ordinary, while I stood in nothing but a short satin robe folding towels. The fabric brushed my bare thighs with every reach, reminding me how little separated me from the ache that never quite left. Alex had come up behind me without a sound. His hands slid around my waist, pulling the robe open just enough. I felt the hard line of him press against my ass, already bare and insistent.

“Baby, we can’t—” The words died when he bent me forward over the humming dryer. The machine’s steady vibration buzzed straight through my clit the second my hips met the edge. He pushed inside in one smooth glide, bare and deep, stretching me open with that familiar velvet pressure that always stole my breath. His fingers dug into my hips, anchoring me while he started to thrust—slow at first, then harder, each stroke driving me against the warm metal. The vibration and the thick slide of him combined into something electric, building fast.

I was right there, right on the edge, walls fluttering around him, when tires crunched on the driveway outside. Mark’s car. Early. Way too early.

Panic exploded in my chest. “Alex—oh God, he’s home!” I tried to pull away but he was buried to the hilt, throbbing. We scrambled, still joined, his cock never leaving me as we half-ran, half-stumbled toward the master bedroom. Every hurried step sent jolts of pleasure through me, slickness dripping down my inner thigh. We barely made it inside the walk-in closet before the front door opened downstairs.