She padded barefoot into the kitchen, the cool tile against her soles the only sound in the dark house. Her boyfriend's oversized t-shirt hung loosely on her frame, barely reaching mid-thigh. She'd stayed over plenty of times before, but something about tonight felt different.
The refrigerator light spilled across the floor when she opened it, and she bent down to grab a water bottle.
She gasped, spinning around. Marcus stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, wearing nothing but basketball shorts. His eyes traveled down her body slowly.
"Marcus, you scared me." She pressed a hand to her chest, laughing nervously.
"Sorry." He didn't look sorry. He stepped closer. "Tyler's out cold?"
"Yeah. He sleeps through anything."
The word hung between them. She should've moved. Should've gone back to the bedroom. Instead, she watched Marcus approach until he was right in front of her, trapping her against the counter.
"You're so pretty," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek. "He doesn't appreciate you."
"It's true." His thumb traced her jawline. "I see how he looks at his phone more than you. How he checks out other girls when you're right there."
She blinked. She'd noticed that too, but she'd never admitted it. "Marcus..."
"I wouldn't do that." His hand slid down to her neck, gentle but firm. "I'd look at you. Only you."
Her pulse raced. This was wrong. Tyler was sleeping twenty feet away. But Marcus's touch made her skin tingle, and his words made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in months.
"You're his roommate," she whispered.
"I know." He leaned in, lips brushing her ear. "That's why I've waited so long. Watching you walk around here in those tiny shorts. Hearing you through the wall." His grip tightened slightly on her neck. "I can't wait anymore."
His mouth found hers, and she melted into the kiss. He tasted like mint and something darker. His hands dropped to her waist, pulling her flush against him. She felt how hard he already was through his shorts.
"Can't hear anything." He lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her spread thighs. "He's passed out. Trust me."
His hands pushed the t-shirt up her hips, revealing she wore nothing underneath. He groaned at the sight.
She whimpered when his fingers traced her slit, already wet. He teased her opening before sliding one finger inside, then two, pumping slowly while his thumb circled her clit.
"You're so tight," he breathed against her neck. "Has he even been taking care of you?"
She shook her head, unable to form words. It had been weeks since Tyler touched her like this.
Marcus pulled his fingers out and sucked them clean, eyes never leaving hers. Then he shoved his shorts down, freeing his cock. It was bigger than Tyler's, thicker, and she stared at it with wide eyes.
She wrapped her hand around him, stroking slowly. He groaned, head falling back.
He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed inside in one smooth thrust. She cried out, and he covered her mouth with his hand.
"Shh. Gotta be quiet." He started moving, hips snapping against hers. "Can you do that? Can you stay quiet while I fuck you?"
She nodded against his palm, eyes fluttering shut. The counter edge dug into her back as he drove into her repeatedly, each thrust deeper than the last. His free hand gripped her hip hard enough to bruise.
"You feel so good," he grunted. "Better than I imagined. So fucking wet for me."
His pace quickened. The kitchen filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and their ragged breathing. She bit her lip to keep from moaning too loud.
"Look at me," he commanded.
Her eyes snapped open. His gaze was intense, hungry.
"Who's fucking you right now?"
"You," she breathed. "You are."
He clamped his hand over her mouth again, muffling her cries as he pounded into her. The pressure built in her core, tighter and tighter until she shattered around him, body shaking with the force of her orgasm.
He followed seconds later, burying himself deep and spilling inside her with a guttural groan. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as they both caught their breath.
When he finally pulled out, his cum dripped onto the counter. He watched it with satisfaction.
"Next time," he said, tucking himself back into his shorts, "I'm bending you over the table."
She sat there, legs still spread, t-shirt bunched around her waist, thoroughly fucked and already wanting more.
"Same time tomorrow?" he asked, grabbing his own water from the fridge.
"Good girl." He kissed her forehead like they were a normal couple and walked out.
She stayed on the counter for another minute, heart pounding, wondering how she'd explain the bruises on her hips to Tyler—then realizing he probably wouldn't even notice.
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