“I know how to get there, pretty girl,” he states before revving the engine and taking off.
I’m thrown back against the seat as the car rips off through the night. This car is not like the quiet, sophisticated hybrids that Brody insists we both drive. This car is power and authority. I’m not a car person, really, but it’s sexy. I rub my thighs together as the seat beneath me vibrates from the powerful engine.
“I like your car,” I finally say, breaking the silence.
The corner of his mouth lifts slightly as he side-eyes me. His hand reaches out to turn on the stereo. “RUNRUNRUN” by Dutch Melrose blasts through the speakers. The thrum of the beat matches the pulsing between my thighs. I feel my nipples tighten beneath the thin fabric of my sports bra.Damn, why did I not wear a padded one?I cross my arms over my chest to hide the peaking tips of my breasts. But I can feel Gabriel assessing me out of the corner of my eye. His heated gaze makes it very hard for me to relax. I close my eyes and try to take a few deep breaths.
Then his hand lands on my thigh.
“Gabriel—” I start but the resistance dies on my tongue as his fingers begin to stroke slowly up and down my thigh. I can barely contain the moan that wants to bubble up from my throat.
“Relax,” he demands as his thick fingers stroke me through the spandex of my running pants.
I’m so lost in his touch that I almost forget where we’re going. I look out the window and realize we’re on my street.
“That’s me right there.” I point to my large white house three doors up. “On the right.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just keeps on driving while his fingers tease me. In fact, he speeds up, I realize.
“Gabriel,” I stammer as his fingers glance against my pussy lips. “That’s my house. You’re going to drive past it.”
His finger digs into my folds through the fabric, finding my clit and stroking. I can’t stop the moan that slips from me. It feels good but it’s not enough. I want more from him. Despite myself, despite the guilt, I seem to always want more from him.
My house flies by out of view as we speed past.
“Gabriel,” I whimper as my small fingers wrap around his wrist. I can’t tell if I’m trying to stop him or pull him deeper.
My hips begin to rock, seeking more of his touch as he flicks my clit again and again through my pants.
“Beg for my fingers,” he growls.
“Wha-what?” I stutter between panting breaths.
He speeds up even more. We are absolutely going too fast. I glance over at his thick hand wrapped around the steering wheel. I mewl and writhe as I watch him steer the speeding vehicle with expert precision. We take a turn and I swear the car jolts onto two wheels for a moment.
“You’re supposed to drop me at home,” I groan. “This is wrong.”
He doesn’t answer. He just speeds up more, his fingers grazing against me lighter. My mind and body are at war. My body craves him, but my mind says this is wrong. The speeding car, the dizzying scent of smoke and pine, the continuous vibration of the rumbling car is almost too much to deny. My conscience will hate me in the morning.
But, fuck it.
“Please, Gabriel,” I relent and beg. “I need your fingers.”
“Good girl,” he praises as his hand slips inside the waistband of my pants.
His fingers skim through my dripping folds. We moan in unison as he begins to stroke me. He relents on the accelerator, slowing us down as his fingers find my clit.
“So fucking wet for me, aren’t you, pretty girl?”
“Please,” I whine as I lift my hips off the seat and try to guidehis thick digits to where I need them.
“Beg,” he strokes my clit again, “for,” and again, “it,” and again.
I’m a panting, desperate mess. I’m sure I’m leaving a puddle of desire on his fancy leather seats, even through my pants. There’s something about this man that’s beyond logic, beyond reason, beyond right and wrong. He’s an addiction I can’t seem to quit.
“Please, Gabriel,” I whimper. “Fuck me with your fingers and make me cream on your hand like your good girl.”
His responding growl sends pleasure skittering through my body and toward my core. One thick finger dips inside me, pushing into my opening slowly. So slowly. I moan and throw my head back against the headrest. The street lights outside flash by as we race down the street.
