"Dom!" Cecily leans on the center console. Her face is a few inches from my arm. I can't look, I'm too busy navigating the road. I feel her eyes. Her breath. And then she bites me, teeth sinking into the outside of my bicep, not hard enough to cause real pain, but it takes me by surprise.
Bruno Mars croons about getting married, then waking up and breaking up.
Cecily isn't biting down anymore, but her lips are still on me. "I'm not sure why I did that," she murmurs against my arm. "It was"—a long pause—"Oh."
I don't have a hope of hiding it this time.
"You like being bitten?" Cecily asks. She sits back in her seat, positioning her body so she can partially face me.
"Not historically, no."Not before you. "Do you like biting?"
There's a hitch in her breath, and she says, "Not historically, no."
The car cabin is too small for me to do any effective adjusting to the front of my pants, but I give it a go.
"Oof," I grunt, when I hit my head on the hard top. "Awesome," I mutter, sulking. "I guess we're 2-0 on thephysical responsescale."
"We-ell, maybe not."
The exit for Tombstone comes up, and I navigate the car onto the next road in our journey. It's paved and deserted, cacti growing wild on both sides. "Keep talking," I instruct.
Cecily's lips vibrate as she blows out a reluctant breath. "I told you that you were due recompense?—"
"Your exact words were 'violent lady boner'."
"Did you get that tattooed somewhere on you?"
"Keep talking, Chestnut."
"Where did Chestnut come from?"
"Your hair color. Now, stop trying to change the subject."
She's back to tracing designs on her thigh. "I currently have a violent lady boner."
I glance at the apex of her thighs. I can't help it. "Lucky for you, nobody would know."
I really should receive a commendation medal of some sort for keeping my voice steady. It's no easy task when every part of me is screaming to go on an hours-long tour of Cecily's body.
"This sucks," Cecily pouts, crossing her legs. "We're married, but we can't have sex because consummating the marriage means we can't get an annulment."
Bruno Mars stops singing about getting married. The next song begins, and now Riley Green sings about wanting someone in the worst way.
Cecily smirks. "Fitting."
"Cecily Menace Chestnut Hampton, did you just say you want to sleep with me?"
She bites down on her lower lip. "I do believe that's what I was getting at."
My heart lodges in my throat. The side of my thumb taps the steering wheel. My brain trips over itself thinking of the way she just said that, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "This is a conundrum."
"The thing is, I don't know if I'm going to survive eighteen more days of this." She motions between our bodies. "It's possible I'll spontaneously combust."
I can't imagine a person more in need of a release than Cecily. A little relief of the pressure valve inside her would be beneficial, possibly for everybody.
An idea strikes. "How about you tell me when you're nearing combustion, and I'll make sure it doesn't happen?"
"How could you possibly?—"
