I put the car in park, then use my other hand to cradle her cheek. As I lean over and catch her mouth in a kiss, I hunt down her clit and begin to tease it with sharp, targeted circles.
I’m not trying to draw her orgasm out. No…I want it to crash over her and overwhelm her, fry up all her nerve endings and bow her spine. I want her to smear her pleasure all over my seat, so that every time I enter my car, I get a hit of her.
A few more flicks of my finger, and she’s coming, gasping into my mouth. I lick the sound, lick her teeth, her tongue, then jam mine deep. She moans, the sound growing harsher when I bring my middle finger to her entrance and ease it in. I go slow but deep.
Her thighs clench around my hand. I pull back—not completely, just enough that only one knuckle invades her tight channel instead of two. I bring my thumb back to her clit and move it slowly.
“Does it hurt?” I breathe against the corner of her jaw before dropping featherlight kisses there.
“No,” she rasps.
I draw her earlobe into my mouth and give it a suck before releasing it to murmur, “Then be a good girl and spread your legs wide for me.”
Her skin breaks out in goosebumps. I realize turning a woman on isn’t a superpower, yet with Electra, it feels like one.
I glide my fingers against her, dip them inside, swirl, caress until her hot, satiny walls throttle my digit. “That’s it, baby.”
Her climax rolls through her, cresting before spilling out as a husky scream. It fills me with masculine delight to know that everyone on this road must’ve heard my pretty Atlantean cream my fingers.
I draw my hand out of her underwear and hold it up. “Look at that.”
My skin shines almost as brightly as the taillights of the car ahead. I put the car in drive, then ease back into traffic, sucking on my fingers until her sweet taste has fully transferred to my mouth.
I’m still licking my fingers when hers brush against my dick.
“Looks painful,” she murmurs, eyes affixed to my groin.
“Zippers are instruments of the devil.”
The corners of her mouth hook up. “Want me to slide it open?”
“Fuck yeah.” My heart slams so hard against the seatbelt that it feels like the strip of fabric is the only thing keeping the organ in.
She flicks the button, then my fly. My dick doesn’t just poke out, it spills, tenting my black briefs.
As she begins to stimulate me over the cotton, she murmurs. “You got me to dance tonight.”
“You were amazing. A natural,” I rasp.
“Do you realize what an accomplishment that was?”
She closes her fingers around me, and I fucking see stars. Hear them, too. They clink as they twinkle.
“Eyes on the road, Cillian,” she purrs.
“There’s nowhere to go.”
“Eyes on the road or I stop touching you.”
I slam my gaze on the damn road, teeth gritted, jaw clenched.
“Drive. Ireallywant to get home.”
As though my car was fitted with an ambulance siren, the cars in front of me merge into the lane beside ours, freeing up our path. I can only imagine I have her magic to thank.
She tugs on me, and I jerk the steering wheel, diving into a new constellation. Electra must right the station wagon using more magic, because we miraculously don’t crash.
“What is it you want to do once we get home?” I ask as I swerve onto the final stretch of road.
