I moan as my hands fist the material of his shirt, and my hips buck to seek friction. The friction my pussy is aching for, begging for, weeping for. The movement causes him to groan, still not pulling away from my lips, not that I’m complaining.
His hand around my throat squeezes it firmly while the other one splays behind my back, spanning the length of it.
He tilts his mouth to the side to plunge in deeper. My hands meander to the soft, wavy curls at his nape as I pull on them. He must like it because he grunts, his hand on my hip, encouraging me to keep moving over his now rock-hard cock.
My lips feel swollen, but I don’t let up as I let him ravage my mouth and ravage his right back. He tastes like pomegranate and hints of smoke, sticking at the edges.
“God, you taste divine,” I moan in the kiss, my nails finding purchase and digging in his scalp.
“You taste like mine,” his chest rumbles against mine with the vibration of his words, poking andrubbing against my peaking nipples. God, I’m so aroused and gone that I choose to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of my brain, knowing he doesn’t really mean it and is saying it in the heat of the moment.
The car fills with steam, sinful moans, and raised temperatures as both of us chase our high. With every passing second, every buck of our hips and every stroke of his hand over my pebbled nipple through my hoodie, I could feel my impending climax.
“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck,” he growls, causing me to whimper. “You’ve no idea how intoxicating and downright sinful you sound, humping over my cock to chase your orgasm as the heat and wetness of your pussy seeps through my clothes, Feather.”
“Ezra…oh fuck,” I almost sob his name at his dirty, arousing words. I increase the ferocity of the movement of my hips over his hard dick to soothe my throbbing pussy through the barriers of our clothes as we continue to swallow each other’s moans with kisses.
“You’re close, aren’t you, Feather?” he whispers in my ear, finally pulling away his lips only to lick the lobe of my ear and bite onit, his hot and wet mouth engulfing it.
The delicious pressure on my neck tethers me to the moment like he knows that if his touch won’t ground me, I would drift away to whatever version of heaven this is.
“I am,” I mumble as he reduces me to a whimpering mess by dropping open-mouthed kisses from my ear to my jaw, stroking the length of it with his tongue.
God, he’s so good at this.
“Give in, Feather. Let me see you lose it,” he commands, his voice and woodsy scent overwhelming me when combined with my fast-approaching orgasm.
I moan for him, “Talk dirty to me.”
His eyes widen at my words, a smirk taking over his face. “Fuck, you’re perfect for me,” he says, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck, scraping the sensitive skin with his teeth.
When the buildup turns too much, and I know I can’t hold it back anymore, I hear him growl, “Come for me, Feather.” And I do just that when I go off like a dynamite, tremors taking over my body as he helps me ride my orgasm. And that’s when I feel his cock still and let go.
Ezra’s breath gets caught as he bucks upward,chasing his own high, followed by a strangled groan that tears from his throat as he comes, shuddering under me, every nerve alight with the release that ripped through us like a storm.
I drop my forehead against his, both of us panting with the physical exertion we just put in, coming down from the high.
We stay like that for several minutes, though now that my sanity returns, I realize that someone could’ve seen us and recorded us if they recognized him. Fortunately, barely any cars have passed by. Or maybe I was too far gone to take note of my surroundings. Oh well, I’ll panic about this later when I have the energy to do so.
He pulls back, and I look at his flushed skin. As if he can read my mind, he says, “Don’t worry, no one saw us.”
My eyes widen with surprise. “How’d you know?”
He smiles. The first genuine smile I’ve seen him direct at me, and I swear I feel my heart melt and mold itself into an Ezra-shaped space. Ever so softly, he tucks a strand of errant hair, sticking to my sweaty skin, behind my ear as he whispers, “I could practically hear you thinking.”
Both of us burst into laughter, our bodies shaking for an entirely different reason this time. And I know I can move from his lap, but I don’t. Neither does he ask me to.
“This was the most sensual experience of my life,” he confesses, his glacial eyes taking me in.
“Yeah, right,” I scoff at him.
He’s lying. Of course, he’s lying. He’s had a parade of puck bunnies, models, and actresses lining up outside his house for one night with him. And us dry-humping is his most sensual experience?
“I don’t believe it,” I say as much.
Instead of the condescending look or glare I’m used to from him, he gives me another soft smile and says the words that I let hang in the air because I don’t know what to do with them.
“Every experience with you is, Feather.”
