With one hand gripping my wrist, he places the other against my chest, and forces me to walk backward until I’m standing near a yellow vehicle. I look over my shoulder. Not that I’m a car aficionado, but even I’m certain this Italian-made luxury ride cost a fortune.
“Once you come all over my tongue, I’m going to fuck you raw on my vintage yellow Ferrari.”
“Oh God.”
“Is it a first for you, Michaela?”
“So far, this is a day packed with firsts.”
“Good.”
I should be concerned about his wolfish grin, but my clit is throbbing with way too much anticipation to care at this point.
“On your back.”
He helps me get in position.
The cool metal of the luxury sports car’s hood does little to dampen the fire burning inside me.
Without warning, Phoenix walks away.
I scramble to sit up. “Where are you going?”
“Stay down.”
His domineering nature is such a turn on.
“Okay” I rest my back on the car.
He’s back.
My core tightens as I take him in.
God, he’s breathtaking.
The first three buttons of his crisp white shirt are undone. He’s no longer wearing his tuxedo jacket, and the bowtie is gone.
I wish he’d lose the shirt altogether.
Everything was so fast and unexpected earlier, I didn’t get enough time to admire his chiseled muscular body or salivate all over the mouthwatering V-muscle leading to his perfect, thick cock.
I look down at his hand and frown.
“The moving blanket will protect my clothing,” he says without me having to ask.
“Smart.” I’m impressed.
“Scuffed shoes and ripped pants stand out. We don’t want to be that obvious.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Feet on top of the hood.”
“With my heels still on?”
“Yes.”
“Won’t it damage the paint?”
