She shrieked and cried out as he began pounding into her. The underwear wasn't doing too terribly good a job of muffling the sounds, but she supposed it was better than nothing. His hand found its way back into her hair, yanking at the roots, but not pulling her up. His other hand was gripping onto her hip, pulling her back against his thrusts.

“Fuck, Tate, it's been too long,” he moaned from behind her. She managed a nod.

“Mmmm hmmm,” she agreed, not able to manage real words.

“If you weren't so busy being a bitch half the time, we could be doing this more often,” he informed her.

“Hmuck hoff,” she snapped back.

“What was that?”

He pulled the underwear from her mouth and she gasped in air.

“I think …, you understood me …,” she panted. He let go of her hip and spanked her, eliciting another groan.

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“God, you're so eager today. Did your Brazilian get you all heated up?” Tate taunted him, wanting more from him. More hands, more words, more everything.

“She's pretty fucking hot, but I couldn't seal the deal,” Jameson replied, almost pulling out of her entirely. Tate held her breath while he slowly slid back in, then wham, he was slamming against her. She shrieked and he repeated the action.

“Too old to land them anymore?” she managed to ask, then bit down on her own finger as he slammed home once again.

“She's too busy blowing Angier in the bathroom. Maybe I'll get next go around.”

“Lucky girl.”

He pulled away abruptly and yanked her back around to face him. She was gulping in air when he forced her head up to face his own, his mouth covering hers. It was an angry kiss, full of clashing teeth and aggressive tongues. He walked them backwards, around the bed, and then he sat down on the side of it, pulling her on top of him.

“You want to be the one sucking his dick right now?” Jameson asked, helping her as she struggled to unbutton his shirt.

“It has been a while,” Tate taunted. He shoved her hands away before just pulling the shirt apart, popping off the buttons.

“Whore.”

“Only for you.”

“If it's only for me, why are you talking about blowing him?”

“You're the one talking about Ang's dick. If you're so curious, I'm sure we could -,”

His fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing so tight, he froze the words in her throat.

“Don't ruin this by making me ill, Tatum,” he snapped.

She wanted to respond. Come up with a retort that would really make him mad. But he was pulling up on her throat, forcing her up onto her knees. Then his free hand was between them, guiding her back onto his dick. She sighed, settling herself on his lap.

“This is so much better than your party,” she whispered, nibbling on the edge of his ear.

“No shit.”

“Better than Ang.”

“It had better be.”

“Better than a Brazilian.”

“Let's not get crazy.”

“You can fuck yourself.”

Tate went to pull away, disgusted, but his arm wrapped around her waist. The shift was lightning quick – first, she was straddling him. Then, she was underneath him, and he was plowing into her like it was a race.

“Watch how you fucking speak to me, and keep it the fuck down. Goddamn, Tate, I know you love being a whore, but not everyone needs to hear it,” he cursed.

“Then stop fucking me,” she challenged, her breathing starting to hitch. He leaned back, pulling himself up onto his knees.

“Oh, I always finish what I start.”

“Really? I can remember a couple times -,”

He slapped her across the face, then his hand was back on her throat. She began to cry out in time to his thrusts.

“Why do you make me do that!?” he demanded.

“Because … I love it,” she whispered, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Apparent-fucking-ly. Such a stupid cunt, couldn't wait a couple fucking hours. We could be doing this with you bent over the railing on the balcony, but no. You had to throw a fucking pity party, hide in here. Ruin the night for everyone,” he growled at her.

“Doesn't seem like it's ending so bad for you,” she pointed out. He let go of her throat, grabbed one of her legs instead. Pushed it up so her knee was almost touching her chest. He was so deep inside her that she was seeing spots with every thrust.

Just how I like it.

“That's what you think. If I wanted a lousy fuck, I would've stuck with Isadora.”

“Funny, I had the same thought the other day about Ang.”

That earned her another slap.

“Shut the fuck up, you love everything I give you.”

“Jameson, I can't … please … I want …,” Tate couldn't form a coherent sentence. Couldn't form a coherent thought. The orgasm that was approaching was starting in her chest, making her breasts tighten; making it hard to breathe.

“I know what you want,” he whispered, letting go of her leg and leaning down close to her. She met him halfway, kissing him hard.

His fingernails digging into the back of her thigh started it, and when she cried out, he bit down on her bottom lip. That finished it. She came immediately, her whole body going into a spasm before it locked down on him. He groaned, pressing his forehead to her chest while he waited out her orgasm. It took a while.