Erotic Fiction: A Rooftop Party

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The rooftop was alive with music and laughter, the pulse of the city stretching out beneath them in a glittering display of lights. The summer air was thick with the scent of cocktails, perfume, and something unspoken—an electric charge that thrummed beneath the surface, just waiting to ignite.

Yvonne leaned against the balcony railing, nursing her drink as she let her eyes wander over the crowd. She hadn’t expected to run into him here—not at a party thrown by some mutual friend of a friend. Yet, there he was, across the rooftop, looking maddeningly good in his fitted button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows, exuding the kind of easy confidence that had always made her weak in the knees.

Damian.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the entire party seemed to fade into the background. He held her gaze, the corner of his mouth tilting into the smirk she knew all too well. It had been months since they last saw each other, since their bodies tangled in sheets, since she swore she wouldn’t let herself fall back into old habits. But habits were hard to break—especially when the temptation stood just across the rooftop, drinking her in like she was the only person in the world.

She turned, as if to walk away, but he was already moving toward her.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice was low, teasing, the same way it had always been when he knew he had the upper hand.

Yvonne tilted her head, feigning indifference, though her pulse betrayed her. “Just enjoying the view.”

Damian stepped closer, until the heat of his body mingled with the warm night air. “Funny, so am I.”

The way he looked at her made her breath hitch. It wasn’t just hunger—it was familiarity, knowing exactly how she would react to him, exactly how much she wanted to resist but wouldn’t.

“Still playing games?” she murmured, sipping her drink.

“Only if you are,” he countered, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of her arm.

The contact was brief, but sent a spark racing through her. She hated how easily he could unravel her. But maybe, just this once, she didn’t care.

“Come with me,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

Yvonne didn’t protest when he took her hand, leading her through the crowd, past drunken laughter and flashing city lights, until they reached the far side of the rooftop—secluded, shadowed, and utterly private.

The moment they were out of sight, Damian wasted no time. He pressed her against the cool brick wall, his body flush against hers, trapping her in that intoxicating heat. His lips hovered just over hers, their breaths mingling, waiting for her to make the next move.

Yvonne's resolve snapped.

She pulled him down into a desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and pent-up frustration. He groaned against her lips, pressing harder, his hands sliding down her body, fingers digging into her hips. She arched against him, craving more, needing more, as his mouth trailed down her jaw, his teeth scraping over her pulse.

“Missed this,” he muttered against her skin, his voice rough with need.

Yvonne's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, earning a delicious growl from him. “Then stop wasting time.”

That was all the permission he needed.

His hands pushed beneath the hem of her dress, fingertips dancing up the inside of her thigh. She gasped as his touch sent molten heat pooling between her legs.

“Someone could see,” she whispered, though the thought only made her wetter.

Damian chuckled against her throat, his fingers teasing the edge of her panties. “That's half the fun.”

The city buzzed around them, completely unaware of the fire igniting in the shadows. Yvonne bit her lip, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers pressed between her legs, stroking her through the fabric.

“You're already so wet for me,” he murmured, lips brushing against her ear. “Just like I remember.”

A shiver ran down her spine, her body arching into his touch. He slid her panties aside, slipping a finger inside her, moving slow, deliberate, making her squirm against the wall. She bit back a moan, gripping his shoulders as pleasure coiled deep in her belly.

“Fuck, Damian,” she gasped.

His mouth covered hers again, swallowing her moans as his fingers worked her expertly, building her up, pushing her closer to the edge. The thrill of being outside, of being at risk of getting caught, only made everything more intense.

Her nails dug into his arms as the pleasure peaked, her body tightening around him. He groaned against her lips, his own restraint wearing thin.

“Come for me,” he murmured.

And she did—biting down on his shoulder to stifle her cry, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Damian held her through it, pressing kisses along her jaw, his fingers slowing but never stopping until she sagged against him, breathless.

When she finally opened her eyes, he was watching her with that same wicked smirk.

“I think we should go back to my place,” he murmured, his voice husky.

Yvonne exhaled a shaky laugh, still recovering, but already craving more. “Okay, lead the way.”