Say a prayer,but let the good times roll...
18+!! SPICY !!READ WITH CAUTION (my fav so far)
Two roommates .Zero boundaries.
What started as a teasing turns into a filthy war of desire.
You were lounging on the couch when the front door slammed shut so hard the walls practically shook.
“Jesus fuck-what the hell?” you shouted, peering over the couch just in time to see Erik storm into the apartment, gagging like a man possessed as he stumbled to the kitchen sink.
He shoved the faucet on and started rinsing his mouth, hacking like something unholy had crawled into him.
“What the hell is going on with you?” you asked, still seated, half-concerned, half-mortified.
Living with a guy was never on your bucket list, but two months in and Erik had proved himself surprisingly tolerable,clean, domestic, even helpful. Plus, since you started playing Until Dawn every night, you’d both ended up sleeping on the couch together like scared kids, too spooked to turn the lights off.
“It was that date I told you about,” he choked out between gags.
“And what the hell did she do to you?” you got up, heading to the fridge to grab him a lemon to suck on.
“She. Puked. In. My. Mouth.”
You shoved him out of the way and dry-heaved into the sink beside him.
“We’re gonna have to burn this whole fucking sink now.”
“I know,” he croaked, already sliding to the kitchen floor, holding the lemon like it was a holy relic.
You joined him, both of you dizzy, halfway dead.
“You know… some people are into that. It’s, like, top ten in porn categories.”
You smirked, biting the inside of your cheek.
Erik stared at you in horror.
“Why the hell do you know that?”
“I have cousins I disown.” You sighed.
“Was she drunk?” he scoffed. “She projectile-vomited her soul into my mouth and then asked if I’d cover my tattoos for our wedding. Who says that?!”
“Please. I’d put you in a crop top just to show off your tattoos. That girl’s clinically unwell.”
“RIGHT?!” He pulled up his shirt, revealing the skull inked on his stomach.
“This is art, not a liability.”
Your eyes lingered for just a second too long. You coughed, turning away abruptly.
“Come on, Kiki. Let’s restart the night. A proper night in.”
He disappeared into his bathroom, and you headed into yours to shower the trauma away.
You knocked on his door once you were done, but the music inside was blaring. He didn’t answer. The door was slightly open, and curiosity got the better of you.
Erik stood under the shower, one hand braced against the wall, the other stroking his cock,hard, thick, gleaming with water and precum. His breathing was ragged, chest rising and falling. You watched, transfixed, as he ran a thumb over the tip, teasing the piercing with a low groan that made your knees tremble.
Your panties were already soaked.
You opened the door a little more, stepping into the steam.
“Need some help with that?” you asked, voice like a sin, leaning in the doorway like temptation itself.
He jumped, nearly yanking his piercing off.
“Jesus Christ! Are you trying to kill me?”
Then he processed your words,his cock still rock-hard in his hand.
You stepped forward, wearing just tiny shorts and a sports bra, letting the water soak you as much as him.
“What are you doing, Peach?” he asked, grabbing your waist, pulling you closer. His cock rubbed against your shorts, sending fire up your spine.
“Trying to kill me and then use me?”
You leaned down, lips brushing his jaw.
“I think I just want to use you for now. Can I?”
You dropped to your knees.
“Fuck,” he groaned, tossing his head back.
“You don’t even have to ask. It’s all yours, sweetheart.”
His hand instinctively gripped your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You opened your mouth and took him in,warm, wet, your tongue playing with the piercing.
“That’s it, baby,” he moaned. “You’re doing so fucking good.”
He couldn’t tell if he was in heaven or if he’d slipped and cracked his skull and this was the afterlife. Either way, he didn’t want it to end.
You played with the ring, your tongue circling it as you sucked hard, using your hand at the base. His moans filled the shower like music.
“Fuck, Peach. If you don’t stop, I’m gonna-”
You popped him out of your mouth, lips swollen and innocent.
“That’s the fucking point, baby.”
You took him again, this time deeper. He let out a choked moan and came, hips jerking forward, fingers tightening in your hair.
“Shit, don’t-don’t swallow that” he gasped, dropping to his knees.
He opened your mouth to see it, groaning.
“Fuck, I got distracted. Sorry”
You spat it into the drain and collapsed next to him, giggling.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, still catching his breath.
“We just acted like we were in the worst porn parody ever.”
He laughed too, breathless. His cock, still red and hard, twitched against his thigh.
“You sucked the soul out of me. Want me to fix your car next? We can roleplay it properly.”
“Why are you still hard?” you asked, staring.
“Because you walked in here looking like my fantasy, then dropped to your knees and ruined me. That’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. This is your fault.”
He tucked a piece of wet hair behind your ear, fingers brushing your cheek.
“I enjoyed the show too much. I had to,” you teased, licking your lips slowly,watching his eyes track every second of it.
“Consider it a pity blowjob for your failed date.” You winked, getting up.
But before you could leave, he grabbed your wrist and spun you around, your back slamming against the tiled wall. His body pressed into yours, hard and hungry.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled. “I’m not done with you yet.”
His hand slid over your soaked bra, brushing your breast, then down to your shorts. He slipped his fingers inside your panties and into you in one fluid motion.
Your head fell back, a moan slipping from your lips.
“So wet for me?Good girl” he murmured, slipping another finger in. You whimpered, legs shaking.
Then he pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty.
“What the fuck,why did you stopped-” you started, only to freeze as he brought them to his lips and sucked.
“Sweet,” he muttered with a wicked smirk.
Your knees nearly buckled.
“Hot,” you whispered, breathless.
He pulled you back in, hips grinding into yours.
“If I knew my pretty little roommate was such a sex freak, I never would've gone on that date.”
You grinned, breath shaking.
“I had to let you go see what you were missing out on.”
He groaned, impossibly harder.
“Never again,” he growled, mouth crashing into yours.
His lips were on yours before you could catch your breath,urgent, consuming, filthy.
He kissed like he was starving. Like he’d waited months for this. Like tasting you was the only thing tethering him to earth.
Your back hit the shower wall again, water still pouring down both of you, making everything slick and sinful.
“You drive me fucking insane,” he groaned into your mouth, grinding against your soaked panties, his cock twitching between your thighs.
“You walk around this apartment half-naked, stealing my hoodies, giving me those fucking looks,and now you’re gonna pretend you’re done?”
You smirked, grabbing his jaw with one hand, the other running down his chest, nails scraping lightly over his abs.
“Who said I was done?” you whispered, dragging your lips across his throat, biting the skin just hard enough to make him hiss.
He let out a broken moan, hand sliding under your bra, thumbing your nipple until you arched into him.
“You’re a menace,” he whispered.
“I’m your fucking menace.”
That was it. That broke him.
He turned you around, pressing your chest against the slick, cold tile, his body caging yours in from behind. You could feel his cock hot and thick between your cheeks, sliding teasingly under your soaked shorts.
“Tell me how much you want it Sweets.”
You looked over your shoulder, lips parted, eyes dark.
“I need it, Erik.Ruin me.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling your shorts down, panties with them, exposing your ass to the steam and his hungry hands.
He knelt, gripping your thighs, spreading you just enough to tease your entrance with his tongue.
You cried out, head knocking against the tile.
“You taste like everything I’ve ever wanted,” he muttered against you, tongue flicking and licking until your legs trembled.
Your fingers scraped down the wall.
You whimpered, twisting to look at him.
He stood, licking his lips, smug.
“Not yet, baby. Not until I’m inside you.”
He lined himself up behind you, his cock hot and heavy against your dripping entrance, and you pushed back on instinct, desperate, needy.
“Beg prettier,” he growled in your ear, biting your shoulder.
You moaned, pushing your hips into his.
“Please, Erik. Fuck me like you mean it.”
He snapped his hips forward and buried himself in one thrust.
You both gasped-him at how tight you were, you at how fucking full he made you feel.
“Holy shit, Peach…” he whispered, his voice wrecked.
He didn’t give you time to adjust.
He started thrusting,slow at first, then harder, deeper, punishing.
Your moans bounced off the tiles, mixing with the slap of wet skin and the hiss of the water.
His hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss your neck, biting, marking.
“I wanted this-I wanted you like this,for so long…” you cried out as he hit that spot that made your knees go weak.
“Then take it,” he growled. “Take all of me.”
His hand slid down to your clit, rubbing tight circles as he fucked you from behind.
“Come for me, baby. Make a mess all over my cock. Show me how much you needed this.”
You shattered, crying out his name, legs trembling, walls clenching around him.
He came with a groan, spilling into you as he kept thrusting through both your highs, grinding until you were both wrecked, breathless, bodies trembling against the wall.
For a long moment, all that existed was the water, the heat, and the sound of your breathing.
He pulled you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.
“So,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear.
“Still think we’re just roommates?”
You laughed, breathless, head falling back against his shoulder.
“I think we’re done with dating apps’’
Steam still clung to your skin as you stepped out of the bathroom, towel barely secured around you. Erik trailed behind you like a shadow, only a towel around his hips, water dripping from his hair, eyes locked on your ass like he couldn’t look anywhere else.
You paused at the hallway mirror, catching his gaze through the reflection.
“Can you blame me?” he grinned.
“I’m trying to sear this into memory in case I die tonight.”
You rolled your eyes but bit back a smile.
“Come on. Let’s watch a movie like we didn’t just defile the entire shower.”
“Just watch a movie huh.” he muttered under his breath, following you to the living room.
You threw on a pair of tiny shorts and one of Eriks’ shirt, pretending not to notice how Erik’s jaw clenched when he sat down beside you. The couch still had that lived-in warmth from countless shared nights playing games, eating takeout… but now it felt charged. Like the air itself knew what was coming next.
He draped a blanket across your lap like a formality and tossed on a horror movie. You leaned into him, and he opened his arm for you to curl against his chest like it was habit.
And it was. But now? Now you were both too aware.
The first scream from the movie hit just as you shifted,your hand brushed over the growing bulge in his grey sweatpants. He flinched.
“You okay there?” you teased, voice innocent, eyes anything but.
You climbed into his lap. Slowly. Deliberately.
His breath caught as your knees caged his thighs and you settled on top of him, grinding just slightly for the fun of watching his control crack.
“Thought we were watching the movie,” he said through clenched teeth, his hands already sliding up your bare thighs under the blanket.
“I am watching,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“But I think I found a better show.”
You rocked your hips once and felt his cock twitch beneath you. His boxers had slide down, and now you were grinding against his bare, hard length through the thin fabric of your shorts.
He groaned, head dropping back.
“You’re playing with fire.”
He grabbed your waist and slammed your hips down on him, making you gasp. His cock was hot, thick, and you could feel the pressure of it rubbing perfectly where you needed.
You slid your shorts to the side and sank down onto him in one slow, aching motion.
His head fell forward, lips brushing against your collarbone.
You rolled your hips, slow and deep, grinding down on him like you wanted to break him open and crawl inside.
His hands were everywhere,palming your ass, squeezing your hips, gripping your thighs like you were something sacred and forbidden.
You pressed your forehead to his, breathing in sync.
He looked up, pupils blown wide, lips parted.
His hands dropped limp to his sides for a second like he was in awe, letting you take over,your movements fluid and confident, grinding in a way that made him twitch inside you.
“Fucking ride me like you own me.”
You took his hands and placed them on your breasts, arching into his palms, moving faster now, slapping against him with every bounce of your hips.
You leaned down and kissed him, wet and sloppy, tongues colliding like a fight neither of you wanted to win.
You broke the kiss, breathless, sweat slicking your skin.
“You’re close, aren’t you?”
He nodded, forehead pressed to your chest.
“So fucking close. Don’t stop. Please-don’t”
He reached down between you, rubbed your clit in quick circles as you bounced harder, his name falling from your lips like prayer.
He grabbed your hips, met your thrusts.
You clenched around him,tight.
He came with a broken moan, hips jerking, cock pulsing inside you.
You followed seconds later, gasping his name as your climax slammed through you, thighs trembling.
Only the sound of the movie still playing in the background, completely forgotten.
You collapsed onto his chest, both of you panting like you’d run a marathon, not just had the filthiest sex of your lives on a couch you once built IKEA furniture on.
He kissed the top of your head.
You smirked, eyelids fluttering shut.
“Shut up. We’re rewatching it tomorrow.”
You and Erik were half-naked and tangled in bed when your phones started blowing up like a fire alarm.
Mom: We’re 45 minutes away! Can’t wait to meet Erik’s family 💖
Erik’s Mom: Tell Peach’s parents we brought banana bread. 😌
You both bolted upright like you’d been shot.
“Your parents are coming?”
A beat. Then in perfect unison:
You both started laughing nervously, even though your bodies were already betraying you.
You hadn’t even finished round four yet.
By noon, the apartment was packed with polite conversation, banana bread, and doom.
Erik’s mom brought a fruit tray.
Both dads brought absolutely zero self-awareness.
You sat on the couch next to Erik, acting normal while your knees touched under the blanket and he was rock hard for absolutely no reason except you existed.
“If you exhale on me again, I’m gonna need a priest.”
You blinked. “You’re hard?”
He nodded. “Since your mom said ‘blessed union.’”
You sat next to Erik at the dinner table,which was a tactical error.
You were wearing the skirt.
The little black one that Erik had literally threatened to burn because he “couldn’t look at it without getting a boner and accidentally ruining your grandma’s throw pillows.”
This was no longer about “respecting our parents.”
A silent, sexy war of “who breaks first.”
His mom, sweet as sugar, beamed across the table.
“So sweetie, has my boy been behaving himself?”
Before you could answer, Erik’s hand slid up your thigh under the table, fingers gliding along your bare skin like he wasn’t sitting next to his own mother.
You choked on your water, then recovered like a champ.
“Yes, ma’am. He’s very useful around the house.”
You side-eyed Erik and squeezed his hand as a warning.
“He’s got amazing hands. Really knows how to use them.”
Erik choked on his pie so hard his dad had to pat him on the back.
“He even helped me install some shelves last week.”
You smiled sweetly, slapped Erik lightly on the cheek, and he just stared at you like a man one second away from flipping the table and bending you over it.
“Now that’s my boy,” his dad said proudly.
Your mom, already one glass of wine in, glanced around the room.
“You know what this place is missing? A Bible. I haven’t seen one anywhere.”
You winced. Erik grinned like the devil himself.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he said, sipping his water like it was holy.
“She prays every night. Loudly. I’ve had to tell her to quiet down a few times.”
You nearly fell out of your chair.
“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he added, sliding his fingers just a little higher.
You elbowed him so hard he wheezed.
Then your dad, looking serious as ever, turned to Erik.
“Now son, I was thinking of changing out those old pipes in the bathroom. I noticed they were leaking.”
You glared at Erik, your fork shaking.
“I’ve told Peach many times to be more mindful of water waste. It’s expensive these days.”
You gave your dad an innocent smile.
“It’s not my fault. Erik’s the one who takes forever in the shower.”
You turned to Erik, smirking.
“His self-care routine takes too long.”
His eyes screamed "I'm going to rail you into the drywall."
“Yes, sir,” he said, keeping his voice calm.
“She’s very helpful, though. Offers to help me out. Knows exactly what creams to use.”
“Real gentle with my toner. Knows her way around SPF. Gets the job done. Every time.”
You were going to kill him.
Or ride him under this damn table.
Your parents were too busy planning a family trip to Italy to notice the sexual battlefield happening two feet away.
Erik leaned in close, whispering low in your ear.
“Brats like you get punished.”
He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you.
His thumb pressed into the inside of your thigh, right where he knew you were already wet.
You turned, lips grazing his ear.
Your hand slid into his lap.
He flinched, let out a weird coughing noise to cover it, and glared at you like you just ran over his childhood dog.
You leaned in with a smug smile.
“No other brat is like me, baby.”
Then you retracted your hand and took a sip of wine like nothing happened.
His fork broke in half in his hand.
Because the second those parents were asleep?
Your parents were tucked into the guest room with their matching pajamas and bedtime tea.
Erik’s parents were settled in his room, probably talking about crossword puzzles and fiber.
Erik was supposed to be sleeping on the couch.
So why was he suddenly behind you in the hallway?
Just grabbed your wrist and yanked you into the closet like a man possessed.
You opened your mouth to protest—and his hand covered it instantly, firm, fingers splayed over your lips.
“You really thought,” he whispered against your ear, “that you could pull that shit at dinner and not get punished?”
Your mom’s voice floated in from the kitchen:
“Do we have oat milk or just the boring kind?”
“Shh.” Erik pressed you back against the wall, his palm still over your mouth.
“You know I respect you, right?” he murmured.
He leaned in, grabbed your bottom lip with his teeth, bit, and kissed you like it was the last time he’d ever get the chance.
“Because when we’re finally alone, I’m going to fuck you like I don’t.”
He dropped one last kiss on your neck, slow and almost too soft for the threat he just made—and then he was gone.
Panting. Shaking. Wrecked.
The door clicked shut behind him.
You stared into the darkness for a full five seconds before muttering:
“Oh, that smug little shit.”
You stumbled out of the closet on wobbly knees, horny, ruined, and out for revenge.
You grabbed the closest stack of towels,clearly just for cover, because what were you gonna say?
“Oh, I was just… having a religious experience in the closet”? Right.
You tiptoed toward the laundry basket like you weren’t combusting internally.
“Sweetie, what are you doing?”
Your mom appeared behind you, clutching a wine glass and a judgmental aura.
You flinched so hard you nearly ate a shelf.
“Mom!” you squeaked. “God, announce yourself. Jesus.”
“You’re acting suspicious. Are you hiding snacks again?”
“I-no, I’m just grabbing towels. For… wiping stuff.”
“Tears! For wiping tears. You know how I get emotional about… textures.”
She took a towel, felt it between her fingers, then sighed dramatically.
“I told you to buy the softer ones from Target. These feel like loofahs for criminals.”
You nodded aggressively, hoping the topic would change before she detected the scent of sin and closet lust.
“Yeah, we’ll get the good ones next time, promise.”
“And stop slamming around. I could hear thumping earlier.”
She sipped her wine, squinting at you.
“Unless Erik dropped something. Or maybe you two were…”
You laughed. Loud. Too loud.
You clutched the towels like a body shield.
“So much organization. Gonna start a Pinterest board.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She gave you the most suspicious mom look of all time and disappeared toward the guest room.
Then you whispered under your breath:
Because Erik might have left you trembling in a closet.
The next morning, you woke up mad.
Not just “he-left-me-hanging-in-a-closet” mad.
You woke up with a mission.
You strolled into the kitchen.
Wearing his vintage band tee from high school,the one that clung to your chest like a prayer and barely covered the tops of your thighs.
Your hair in a high ponytail. (He once admitted that does things to him. You remember everything.)
Erik was pouring himself orange juice.
Some of it overflowed onto the counter. He didn’t even blink.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he said, voice low, already wrecked.
You tilted your head sweetly, like butter wouldn’t melt on your tongue.
He groaned. Actually groaned. Like someone had just stepped on his soul.
You leaned in just a little. Smirked.
And then“accidentally”you spilled a little more juice.
You brushed past him, chest grazing his arm, and bent over the island to reach the sink for a wipe.
Your shirt rode up just enough to reveal the curve of your lower back and the hem of shorts so tiny they may as well have been a rumor.
Erik made a sound behind you that could only be described as a cry for help.
When you finished your cleaning duty, you turned to him like nothing happened.
He was gripping his glass with the intensity of someone who might shatter ceramic with his horniness.
You tiptoed to his ear, your lips brushing his skin.
“Cat got your tongue, baby?” you whispered, devilish.
Before he could growl a reply, your mom shouted from the couch:
“Children, we’re going for a walk! Want to join?”
“I can’t,” you called sweetly. “I’ve got a work assignment. But Erik will. Won’t you, Kiki?” You knew Erik would say yes,he had to,unless he wanted to be interrogated by your entire bloodline.
You looked up at him, eyes wide, innocent as sin.
You could practically hear his soul leaving his body.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a fake smile so tight it could cut glass.
“He’s such a sweet boy,” your mom beamed.
“Always so kind,” her bestie added.
You gave him one last smirk as you strolled out of the kitchen, hips swinging like victory.
You knew exactly what you were doing.
And you knew he’d make you pay for it.
The front door slammed hard.
“Mom?” you called lazily, pretending you weren’t already smirking.
Erik’s voice growled from the hall.
“But you’ll sure beg for her Bible when I’m done with you.”
He stood there,muddy, sweaty, his hair disheveled, his eyes blazing like a man who’d just crawled out of hell .
“The fuck happened to you?” you asked, staring.
(It was annoying how hot he looked like this. Feral. Furious. Ferociously damp.)
“What happened to me?” he repeated, eyebrows high.
“I sprinted through half the woods, lied to both our parents about having explosive diarrhea, and nearly rolled my ankle in a puddle,just so I could come back here and teach you a fucking lesson.”
He stepped forward, looming over you.
“Your dad is still texting me asking if I need Imodium or chamomile tea.”
You burst out laughing. You couldn’t help it.
But the moment your eyes met his, the air shifted.
Because now you were alone.
He closed the distance between you in two strides, grabbing your jaw, backing you up into the hallway wall.
“Still feeling smug?” he muttered, lips hovering over yours.
His body pressed into yours, his hands finding your hips like they belonged there.
"What, are you going to punish me?"
You smirked against his lips, your breath hot, taunting, feral.
"Make me go to my room? Have I been that bad?"
His hand came up, slow and lethal, his fingertip dragging across your upper lip.
His voice dropped so low it scraped down your spine .
“It’s really a shame, Peach.”
His thumb rested just under your chin.
“You got all dolled up… just for me to ruin you.”
Your knees buckled. Your blood ignited. Your entire body turned traitor for him.
You clutched at his shirt, voice nothing more than a desperate whimper.
“Please… I’ll be good. Just fuck me. Please.”
Your words were a surrender.
You were hanging by a thread, and he was holding the scissors.
He leaned into your ear, his lips brushing your skin.
“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”
In one swift movement, he grabbed you by your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist like instinct.
Your mouths stayed locked, breath hot and mouths greedy as he walked you through the hall, kicking your door open like a man with purpose.
He dropped you on the bed.
“You are such a fucking menace,” he growled, grinding against you, his hands everywhere,gripping, teasing, claiming.
“Can you blame me?” you moaned, breathless, as he sucked on your neck hard enough to mark it.
Your body arched beneath him, his name whispered like a prayer every time his mouth moved lower.
“You’re so hot… I can’t contain myself.”
He pulled back slightly, enough to look down at you,flushed, eyes half-lidded, wild.
“You made me so addicted to you, I don’t know if I can live without you anymore.”
His mouth hovered inches from your collarbone, his breath ragged. His pupils blown wide. His whole body tensed like you’d just snapped a wire he didn’t know existed.
The words left your mouth before you could stop them.
You gulped hard, the moment instantly charged, electric, terrifying.
The one person who knew your soul. The one you broke for.
And you just handed him your heart like it was nothing.
You watched him breathe-shallow, heavy.
His face was flushed, his brows furrowed, his lips parted.
Then he looked straight at you, eyes wide and wrecked.
