She doesn’t stop. Takes me deeper instead, throat working around me, hand stroking faster. I bite the inside of my cheekto keep silent, pleasure coiling vicious and fast at the base of my spine.
I haul her up before I lose it completely, hands under her arms, pulling her into my lap. She straddles me quickly, skirt bunching high around her waist. I shove her panties to the side, and she sinks down onto me in one smooth, desperate motion.
We both exhale shakily. She’s tight, hot, clenching around every inch as she takes me fully. Her forehead presses to mine, our breath mingling.
“Move,” I whisper against her lips. “Quietly.”
She starts rolling her hips, slow at first, rising just enough to feel the drag before sinking back down. The car is spacious with plenty of room, but every small shift of leather, every soft gasp feels amplified.
I grip her hips, guiding her harder, deeper. She bites her lower lip to stifle a moan when I thrust up to meet her. The rhythm builds. Her hands are braced on my shoulders, my mouth on her neck, sucking quietly at the skin just below her ear.
“Still so perfect around me,” I murmur, barely sound. “Like you’ve been waiting for this.”
She answers with a sharper roll of her hips, taking me deeper, inner muscles fluttering. Her breathing is ragged against my ear. “Cassian,” she whispers, voice trembling. “I need?—”
“I know.” I slide one hand between us, fingers finding her clit through the damp lace, rubbing tight circles. She jolts, thighs tightening around me.
The pace quickens. She rides me harder, grinding down on every stroke, chasing the pressure. I thrust up to meet her, anglingso I hit that spot that makes her breath hitch. The car sways gently with the motion, suspension absorbing most of it, but the intimacy feels reckless anyway.
Her nails dig into my shoulders through my shirt. She’s close, and I feel it in the way she clenches, the way her movements turn desperate.
“Come,” I breathe against her throat. “Quietly. Let me feel it.”
She buries her face in my neck, teeth grazing my skin to muffle the soft cry as she comes hard, pulsing around me in long waves. The clench drags me over with her. I thrust up once more and stay deep, spilling inside her with a low, stifled groan against her shoulder.
The car slows smoothly—my building approaching.
She stays on my lap, body still trembling from the aftershocks, inner muscles fluttering around me in soft pulses. I’m not ready to let her go. My hands slide up her thighs, under the bunched skirt, thumbs tracing the crease where leg meets hip. She exhales shakily against my neck, but doesn’t move to climb off.
“Stay,” I whisper, voice rough and low. “We’re not done.”
Her breath hitches. “We have to be.”
I roll my hips slowly, grinding deep without pulling out. She’s sensitive, oversensitive, and the motion draws a quiet whimper from her throat. “Feel that?” I murmur against her ear. “You’re still clenching around me. You want more.”
She grips my shoulders tighter, nails biting through the shirt. “Cassian…”
I slide one hand between us again, fingers finding her clit—swollen, slick, easy to circle even through the soaked lace. She jolts, thighs tightening around my waist. “Quiet,” I remind her, barely making sound. “Driver’s still up there.”
She nods against my shoulder, teeth grazing my skin to keep silent. I start moving—slow, deliberate thrusts upward, barely lifting her, just enough to drag along every inch inside her. The angle is perfect this way, deep and grinding. Her skirt hides most of it, but I feel everything.
“You feel incredible,” I breathe. “So wet. Still taking me like you never left.”
She answers by rolling her hips forward, meeting the slow rhythm, taking control of the depth. Her hands move to my neck, fingers threading into my hair, pulling just enough to sting. The pace stays measured, but the intensity builds in the quiet.
I keep my fingers on her clit, light steady pressure, matching the lazy roll of my hips. She’s breathing faster now, warm puffs against my collar. Her body starts tightening again, inner walls gripping in warning flutters.
“Again,” I whisper. “Come on me again. I want to feel it.”
She shakes her head slightly, like she’s fighting it, but her hips grind harder, chasing the touch. I angle my thrusts to hit that spot inside, short and precise. Her nails dig deeper into my scalp.
“Please,” she whispers, so quiet I almost miss it.
I press my fingers firmer, circling faster. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
The second orgasm rolls through her slower but deeper—her whole body tenses, breath held in a silent gasp against my neck,inner muscles pulsing in long, milking waves. She clenches so hard it drags a low, stifled groan from me.
I thrust up once more, deep and grinding, and follow her over. Pleasure surges sharp and hot, spilling into her in thick pulses while I bury my face in her hair to muffle the sound. My hips jerk through it, riding the waves until we’re both spent.
