Chapter 7: Double Claim
The door hissed open on well-oiled hinges, slicing through the humid air of the storage room. Ghost stood frozen in the threshold, his gloved hand still on the handle, his gaze locked on the scene illuminated under the sterile fluorescent lights. Camilla rode König with a slow, primal rhythm, her head thrown back, her pale body a stark contrast to the dark fabric of his trousers pooled around his thighs. König’s eyes were squeezed shut, his large hands gripping her hips, a low groan rumbling in his chest.
Ghost moved without a sound, a predator closing in. His leather-clad hand wrapped around her throat from behind, not to choke, but to claim. Camilla’s eyes flew open, a sharp gasp catching in her chest. She arched back against him, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her lips. "Simon," she purred, her voice thick with pleasure. "There's enough of me for both of you."
Her hand, slick with sweat, found his belt, her fingers working the buckle with an unsettling familiarity. Ghost’s other hand slid from her throat down her chest, cupping her breast, his thumb roughly circling her nipple. He leaned close, his voice a gravelly whisper against her ear. "You're a fucking menace." He pushed his own trousers down, freeing his hard length, and guided himself to her from behind. He entered her in one brutal, seamless thrust, filling her completely, making her cry out as she was stretched to her limit. König’s eyes snapped open, wide with shock and a dark, shared thrill.