“Celebrating this new title of ours.” Her cold hand goes all the way down my boxer briefs, and the touch sends a jolt right to the lower pit of my stomach. I grunt as she grips me, and it’s a good thing my thinning focus manages to find a shoulder to pull into off the PCH. “What are you doing?” Grace asks as soon as the car comes to a halt.
“Celebrating this new title of ours,” I mimic. I open the door and swing around to the back seat, slamming the door as I scoot to the middle. Grace watches me the whole time, her mouth slightly agape in pleasantly surprised shock. “You going to join me back here, or are you going to just stare at me from the front seat?”
She wedges herself over the center console, immediately settling over my lap as soon as she crosses over to the back of the car.
“Hi,” she whispers, her arms wrapped around my neck.
“Hi.” I kiss her. First at a sluggish pace. I take my time, wanting to drag the kisses from her lips, lick them off her tongue. But she has other plans. She threads her fingers into my hair,crashing her lips to mine. She rocks into me, my hips meeting hers as I feel her body build a rhythm I know she’s chasing.
“Off. Now,” she demands, tugging at my pants. I quickly undo my belt and slide my jeans down just past my knees. She looks down at my rock-hard erection, gliding her palm over the precum already building at the tip.
“Ooh, fuck,” I groan, my head hitting the headrest and my eyes rolling back. Her hands are so determined, running along the sensitive ridges and even sweeping over my balls to make them tighten and pull. She could do so much with just her hands. As if there are a hundred different buttons or weak spots only she’s aware of, and she uses them as she pleases. “That feels so fucking good, baby.”
Calling her that spurs her on even more, and I nearly lose it when she runs her thumb over the tip, making everything slippery and wet. My hands fly to her wrist, a plea to make her stop, but she slaps it away, holding on to the control. The control I’m painfully letting slip away while she watches with hungry eyes.
“No,” she commands. “I’ll stop touching when I want.” Another firm stroke, and I worry I might just come in her hands.
“Grace,” I rasp. “Please.”
“I kind of like this,” she says, ignoring my plea. “You at my mercy, begging me to stop.”
She uses her other hand to cup my balls, and she tugs at them, giving me a whole new sensation as she continues to stroke me in tandem. I slam my hands to her ass, hearing a dull slap as my fists grip her through her dress. Anything to hold on to the last of my will. I let out a loud moan, feeling dangerously close to the edge.
“Are you going to be a good boy and wait to come until you’re inside me?”
My eyes focus on hers, and I notice how greedy they are. She wants me like this, all vulnerable and helpless. It turns her on to be in control. To have me be putty in her hands. “Let me fuck you then,” I urge, my voice wavering as I’m pushed closer and closer to the edge. I bunch up her dress higher, hiking it up to her waist. It’s then I’m surprised to find she’s not wearing any underwear. “Have you been without any underwear the whole night?”
She bites her plump lower lip and drags it against her teeth. “Maybe.”
“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” I ask, disapproval coursing through the gravelly tone of my voice.
“It was a surprise.”
I growl, jerking my hips toward her sweet pussy and thrust inside her. As soon as I do, her back arches.
“Holyshiiit,” she gasps, her chest heaving with heavy breaths. She clings to my shoulder, something to ground her as she rolls her hips over me. “Fuck, Andrew.”
I’m holding back my own sounds, trying to take back some of that control I let slip away. I watch her, my hands bracing her back as she trembles in my arms.
“What’s wrong, baby? I thought you had it all under control.”
“Shutup,” she says through gritted teeth. Though her words hold very little weight.
“Aw, what happened to all that confidence?”
She scrapes her nails down my arms, leaving tracks, I’m sure. She moves, her body pulling away from me. Her feet, still strapped in sandals, hit the seat. They press into the cushioned area at my sides, and her bent knees part, spreading her thighs wide. This gives her the advantage, moving herself in and out at her own pace, and it drives me fucking wild. Her ass starts to bounce off my thighs and her moans grow louder, more dire and hungry. She slips one of the straps off her shoulder, sliding her arm out and letting her dress fall off one side of her chest.
“Jesus, Grace,” I rasp, leaning forward. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.” I hook my fingers over the lace bra she’s wearing, slipping it down to free her nipple. I become hungry, ravenous, looking at all the naked parts of her I want to run my tongue over. As soon as I pull her nipple over my tongue, she starts tensing.
“Fuck!” she cries. She slams back down, coming around me like a damn vise. I follow so quickly, it’s pitiful. My grunts mix with her moans, the sounds filling the car like our own symphony. We cling to each other, desperate to catch our breaths. I feel her heart pound against mine. It’s so frantic and fervent, I start to worry it’s going to stop. But then the rapid beats start to steady, bringing us back into our bodies.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I ask, my face pressed against her bare chest.
She grips my face in her hands, our breaths still soft gasps. “Me, kill my brand-new boyfriend? Never.”
I kiss her, cupping the back of her head to angle my lips to hers. “I could get used to you calling me that.”
“Yeah, boyfriend?”
