“I want to come wherever you want me to come,” I tell her, not even having to act the role. It’s the truth. Like all my interactions with her now seem to be the truth. Everything so real it hurts. Everything beyond my expectations, beyond anything I deserve.
She quickens her pace, using me like a mounted dildo, taking what she wants, using her fingers when my cock doesn’t provide the right friction in the right place and God how I wish my hands were free to take that task from her plate.
Then her breathing hitches, changes, an exhalation that elongates into a sigh. Her muscles clench me harder, shuddering in convulsions as she comes.
I expect her to lift off me, to take that beautiful pussy away, but she stays, rocking slightly, wringing out every drop of her finish until she collapses against my chest in a spent heap.
The loss of movement sucks me back from the edge. I reconcile myself to missing out, cue a self-scolding lesson on how next time I need to read her signs better, reach that same climax with her.
Her hand reaches down behind her, teasing my balls, then cupping them. My interest perks right up and she snuffles out a soft laugh as I tense inside her, creating my own pulse, and then I don’t have to because she’s moving again, this time at a luxurious pace.
Damp hair clings to the sides of her face, framing her, making her look so gorgeous, so sexy, so tantalising that I’m right back where I was, cresting my wave while she bends to take my lip between her teeth, biting enough to make it bruise, make it swell.
Biting until the blood rushes to the surface, pushing, shoving, jostling for position, waiting for the teeniest, tiniest break.
Then she’s sucking, soothing away the pulsing ache.
“I want you to come in my mouth,” she whispers, trailing languorous fingers across my torso.
Slowly, she eases herself off me and sinks low, sliding back onto her knees in the footwell, sucking one ball into her mouth, creating a sensation I didn’t even know was possible. One that heightens when she moves to its neighbour, carefully disengaging before she runs her tongue along my shaft.
She rolls off the condom, staring into my eyes as she does so. The level of trust from her swells my heart just as much as it stirs my cock.
Then her mouth closes over my tip, sliding me deeper, deeper, until I must be ramming into her throat, choking her airways, just the thought sending me into the beginning of my orgasm, as she pumps her head, increasing the speed as she feels me coming, feels the pulse of my release jolt along my length.
She sits back, licking her lips and pumping me to produce another spurt of cum that she sucks off me, every drop, eyeing my cock like it’s something beautiful that she’s privileged to touch.
I close my eyes, body relaxing so deeply that I think I fall asleep for the few moments she takes to climb back on top of my body, straddling me, head resting against my chest as she releases my hands from their restraints and I can finally touch her, stroke her, caress her. Wrap my arms around her and hold her close.
“You know anyone could come up here,” I tell her, chuckling softly at the thought of someone pulling into the rest stop to look at the view and finding us instead.
My cock also stirs, something she notes, suggesting, “If you’re into a spot of dogging, I’m sure we can research an appropriate parking spot online.”
“Fuck that. I don’t want anyone staring at you while we’re having sex. Except me,” I add a second later, making her giggle.
“This is a far better afternoon than the one I had planned,” she says, sliding off me and into the driver’s seat, then reaching back to clasp my hand. “Now, you want to pick another spot where we can tempt fate with a public viewing or go back home where you can teach me all the delights of your shower. There must be some reason the designer put so many moveable pieces in there.”
“Home,” I immediately vote. “I need to get clean again before I get dirty.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
ROSA
On Tuesday morning,I’m in the library, only paying half my attention towards the study group discussion. I got lost somewhere in the fair distribution of duties discussion and am just waiting now to find out what I’m expected to do.
I would take charge to speed things along, but three of the other four students are already jostling for that role—part of why we’re not getting anywhere with the assignment.
When my phone beeps I don’t even check the screen before excusing myself. Once outside, I exhale a frustrated breath and drag the device from my pocket. A worried text lights up the screen and my stomach pinches.
A message from Harry.“I’m at my appointment but nobody knows where you are.”
I stare at the message until the text is burned on my retinas, then pocket my phone and head for my car, beeping it open before I’m halfway across the parking lot.
If this is Trent’s idea of cancelling my work contracts and arranging for someone to take on my client load, he’s missed the mark. I utter a few choice curse words at him, then at myself for not double checking.
A lot of my list won’t be bothered; they didn’t care when I slotted in from the last girl and they won’t care about another change.
Harry’s different. He’s already lonely. Even if I wanted to ease away from him, worried about the possibility he’d become too attached, to leave him hanging in the wind like this is brutal.
