She nods, her face twisted with want. Her free hand moves up my chest, to my shoulder, then slides up the back of my neck to twist in my hair. She pulls sharply and my head tips back, my lips parting just as she presses her mouth against mine, her tongue seeking mine urgently.
Her kiss is fervent, her hand in my hair keeping me in place. But her eyes are squeezed shut, her brow creased, the hand she has wedged between us working her clit with vigor.
Wanting her eyes on me, I mutter, “Look at me,” my hands tightening on her hips when she doesn’t immediately comply, and I add, “Fucking look at me, Cass.”
Her eyes open, an endless pool of desire glowing back at me. My chest constricts, a zap of euphoria rushing over me as she moans, “Please. Please. Please.”
My body jerks in response, my hips lifting sharply, my hands holding her tightly against me. “Take it. Take it. Take it,” I whisper against her lips, pleasure erupting and spilling over. “There you go. It’s all yours.”
She sobs, her hips jerking violently as I release inside her, her sharp curse of frustration confirming what I already know.
She didn’t come.
Wrapping an arm around her hips, I surge forward, scooping her over and then under me so I can settle between her spread legs. She moans loudly, and I push in, grind against her, wanting every ounce of my seed as deep inside her as possible.
I ease out of her slowly, allowing myself a brief glimpse of my come oozing inside her before shoving three fingers in—deep. Her back bows slightly, her feet planted on the floor of the limo, raising her hips into my touch.
Stooping over, I latch onto her clit, my lips and tongue working her urgently, my cock hardening again from the sloppy sound of my fingers plunging and retreating in her come-drenched pussy.
She writhes beneath me, her hands moving to my head, her fingers yanking on my hair as she rubs her swollen clit against my mouth. I lick and suck and nip, giving her full leeway to move me wherever she needs me, her noises of pleasure increasing in volume as she grinds against my mouth.
My fingers twist inside her, shoved in deep, and then I remove them slightly only to push back in sharply, the base of my fingers pushing upward as I feel and hear the cresting pleasure break. She comes hard around my fingers, proof of her orgasm coating my hand, spraying the car door.
I growl against her, doubling down on her clit as I work her quivering cunt, forcing another orgasm out of her, wishing I could drink her keening moan from her lips the way I’m drinking her release from her throbbing pussy.
I manage to get a third orgasm out of her before her hands in my hair start yanking me away, her legs squeezing, her pants now begging for mercy instead of more.
If we were anywhere else, I’d force a few more out of her. Make her keep coming until she was too exhausted to think of anything other than me. Force her to orgasm until she safe worded out or passed out.
Smiling at the thought, I allow her to push me away. I kneel over her, not even caring that I’m grinning like a Cheshire Cat at the sight of her looking like a hot mess before me.
I reach toward her, wanting to shove my come back into her, but she slaps me away, drawing my attention back to her face. She’s scowling, but I see the amused glint in her eyes, note that she’s actively trying not to smile as she tsks, “You stop that.”
I take a few moments to catch my breath, rinse my hands in the small sink, then grab the towel off the wet bar. Wetting one side slightly, I wipe my mouth, not wanting to remove the scent of her on my skin, but knowing that having it dry-on may not be the best look.
She continues to watch me, silently, her legs now spread haphazardly. Turning back to her, I offer up the towel but then don’t hand it to her when she reaches for it. She sighs then nods slightly, so I use the damp part of the towel to wipe at her inner thighs, along her pubic bone where I pause. She quirks a brow at me, but says nothing, so I move like I’m done cleaning her up, laughing as she glares at me.
I feel absolutely foolish for it, but I can’t help but tease her, wanting her to trust me to take care of her, no matter what it is she needs. I drag the damp down between her legs, slightlyannoyed to be wasting what I left for her but also knowing she won’t be happy if she ruins her dress. It’s not like there won’t be plenty more of my come in her everyday life.
I finish cleaning her up, then she allows me to assist her to the forward-facing seat. I clean myself up a bit more, then toss the towel in the bin and adjust my own clothing before seating myself beside her.
“This is so embarrassing,” she mutters, her eyes now focused on the wet door. She blinks a few times, then turns panicked eyes to me. “There must be more towels around here somewhere.”
“I’m sure he has seen much worse,” I respond with a grin, my hand moving to her bare knee and squeezing. She tries to slap my hand away, shifting as if she’s going to move away from me, but I tighten my grip, keeping her in place. I wait for her gaze to focus back on me and then say, “I’ll take care of it. It’s okay.”
The breath she takes is a bit shaky and I frown, not quite sure what her panic is all about, but willing to do whatever I can to ease her worry. With a final squeeze of her knee, I release her, then move to the wet bar and pull a towel from beneath the sink.
I make quick work of the proof of her rampant desire for me, getting an odd sense of satisfaction every time I find a new spot to clean up. After a final perusal of the area, I toss the soiled towel into the bin with the rest and then once again seat myself next to her.
“Thank you.” Her words are quiet, her expression somewhat guarded, but there’s a distinct warmth in her gaze that has me wondering if she truly feels I’d go out of my way to humiliate her.
I want to ask her, but I don’t bother because I already know the response I’ll get from her.
Red.
“Don’t mention it,” I reply, my tone even, my hand moving back to her knee where I stroke lightly with my thumb. She watches me for a few moments, then takes a hiccuppinginhalation that appears to take her by surprise. She relaxes slowly, but eventually she once again resumes her position at my side, leaning into me slightly.
She turns to look out the window, frowning as she just now notices we’re not headed back toward the Strip. “Where are we going?”
