“Don’t worry. This will all blow over, baby. How about I order dinner in, and then we watch a movie together?”
He perks up, shifting in his seat. “A Christmas movie?!”
Ugh, fuck me.I fucking hate Christmas movies—and the holiday season—but I’d do anything for Bolton.
“Yes, whatever movie you want. We can watch it in bed while we eat dessert.” I rub Bolton’s shoulder, kneading my fingers into knots of tension he shouldn’t have.
He melts into the touch, a moan escaping him. The sound goes right through me, straight to the greed I always harbor for him.
“You know, I have some ass a la mode you gotta try,” he says in a playful tone with a smirk on his face.
If only he truly knew how tempting he is, how difficult it is to dampen the flame he sparks in me. I turn my head and nip at his neck, letting my teeth prick his skin. He gasps into my ear, trying to pull away, but I hold him close.
“Let me have a taste of you now,” I growl as I lick over the bite, sucking the skin into my mouth so he and everyone else in this city sees a big purple bruise tomorrow. He bares his neck to me, and I lick and suck my way up, leaving a trail of marks. A souvenir for him to remember me by when we’re apart during the day.
“Fuck, Cal, are these windows tinted?” he asks in a breathy voice.
“No,” I rasp, pulling his lithe body over the center console and sitting him squarely on my cock. His thighs press against my own, their heat magnified in the cold car. He bucks into me, grinding us together in a slow, deep rhythm. He’s fucking teasing me. “You sick little freak, dying to get your rocks off in this parking garage where anyone can walk by and see us…”
I tinted the windows of all my cars as a safety precaution. He knows this, but the illusion of having an audience is enough to make him forget all about the interrogation. He leaks in hisslacks, a wet spot forming in the taunt fabric, and I rub my thumb over his round head.
“Yeah, Daddy. Get that cock out and fuck me in the front seat. I want to bounce on it,” he frantically blurts as he unzips his pants. His cock springs out, leaving a wet spot on his shirt. He’s so hard for me, weeping for me to make him come.
I hate my height only when Bolton gets slutty with me in the car. I’m dying to take him into my mouth before he rides me, but we’re too cramped in here. I unbutton my pants, taking my length out.
“The ceiling is low in this car, baby. We’ll have to get creative.” He whines, and I chuckle at how impatient he is. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good.”
I’ll make him forget all about this bullshit investigation, until all he can think about is my cock, mouth, and fingers driving him insane. People may not see us through the window, but they’ll hear him moaning my name, begging me to push him to his limits. I spit in my hand, bringing both our cocks together as I lathe my saliva over us. Slow, deliberate strokes are the perfect way to drag him to the edge and make him demand more.
“More,” he babbles. “Give me more.”
“Say please. Use those pretty little lips and beg me,” I order him. Before he can say anything, I stick two fingers into his mouth, pushing them to the back of his tongue until he’s on the verge of gagging.
“Please,” he garbles around my fingers. I push a little farther, and he shouts, “Please!”
I remove my fingers, claiming him with a deep, punishing kiss, an unspoken promise between us. No one can take my lightning bolt away from me. Not the law or even Bolton himself. He’s mine until a mortician burns my body in the retort. And even in death, I’ll follow him until he joins me.
I grip us in my hand again, pumping faster this time as I reach my wet fingers behind him. They swirl over his puckered hole, rubbing over and around it as I build him into a frenzy a second time. I feel him twitch in my hand, then stop. The look of pure frustration on his face is its own art.
“Stop being a sadist, Cal. Put your fingers inside me,” he demands, fucking himself into my hand.
“Do you have any lube?” I prefer to use it over spit, not that I’m opposed to the latter.
He leans over, opening the center console and fishing out a small bottle, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “I keep one in every car.”
My little lightning bolt is always ready to strike.
“Open it, and put it in my hand.” He flicks the cap open with shaking fingers, depositing it on my offered fingertips.
Circling his hole again, I slowly work him open with one, then two fingers. His soft moans float around the interior of the car as he works them deeper.
“I want to ride you,” he whimpers in my ear. “Gonna feel so full with you inside me, stretching me open with that thick cock.”
I stop stroking us. “Your mouth is filthy. What a slutty baby you are for me.” I line myself up, pushing his hips down as I fill him inch by inch.
“Come on,” he grits out, trying to slam himself down.
Taking it slow drains my control. I want to push up, impale him in one deep thrust—but I don’t want to hurt him, even if he’d like it. I’d never hurt him on purpose again. When I’m fully seated inside him, he’s quick to fuck himself onto me. With every bounce and undulation of his hips, he brings us both closer to release. I lift his shirt, pinching one of his nipples until he hisses in pain.
