My right hand leaves the wheel and lands high on her thigh, palm spreading heat through the denim of her jeans, fingers inching upward with every shift of the gears. I gun it through ayellow light, the sudden surge pinning us both back as my thumb strokes along the seam, dangerously close to where I know she’s already slick with Talon’s cum from this morning, when they both took her.
Her hand covers mine. “You always choose silence.” She breathes, thighs tensing under my touch. “Why break it now?”
I weave through traffic faster, my fingers sliding higher, knuckles grazing the soft heat between her legs for one teasing second before retreating just enough to make her chase it.
“Because with you I feel safe enough to use my voice.”
Her sharp inhale is reward enough. I squeeze her thigh hard, then drag my hand up again, stopping just short of giving her what she wants.
“When all this bullshit is over, I might talk more—might. But honestly, Mara...” I glance over, lips curling into something dark and hungry. “I fucking love the quiet. Means I can touch you like this instead of wasting words.”
My palm slides fully between her thighs now, cupping her through denim with steady pressure. She gasps, hips rolling into my hand without permission.
“Jasper—”
“Shh.” I press harder, thumb circling her core. “Feel that? That’s me telling you exactly how much I want you, without saying a goddamn thing.”
Her head falls back against the seat, eyes fluttering. “You’re evil.”
I smirk, easing off just enough to make her whine softly. “Like Talon didn’t fuck you senseless this morning in the shower. I heard both of you.”
Finally, I pull into a shadowed spot just short of the frat house, killing the engine.
She turns to me, lips swollen, eyes wild. “If you want me?—”
I’m already leaning across the console, one hand sliding into her hair, fingers twisting tight at the roots to yank her head back, exactly how I want it. My other hand shoots straight to her thigh again, higher this time, fingers popping the button of her jeans open in one rough tug.
I crash into her mouth, my tongue thrusting deep, stroking against hers in a filthy, wet slide that makes her whimper. I suck on her tongue, imagining it’s her mouth wrapped around my cock instead, and the thought has me throbbing painfully against my zipper.
I slip my hand inside her now open jeans, under the lacy underwear, my two fingers sliding straight through slick heat and pushing into her. She’s so wet they sink into her, up to the first knuckle on the first thrust. Her back arches as I curl my fingers, stroking that spot inside her.
She moans loud and I swallow it, biting her bottom lip hard enough to make her gasp, then licking into her again—deeper, messier. My fist tightens in her hair, angling her so I can fuck her mouth with my tongue the way I want to fuck the rest of her. Her hands claw at my shirt, dragging me closer, nails scraping my neck, and all I can think is how bad I want to shove her seat back, rip those jeans off, and bury myself inside her, right here, until the windows fog and she’s screaming my name.
I grind my hips against the edge of the console just to get some friction because I’m so hard it hurts. Pre-cum is already leaking from my cock.
“Jasper—fuck?—”
“Yeah, that’s it,” I growl against her lips, pumping faster, deeper, wrist twisting on every thrust. “Come on my fingers, baby. Let me feel you fall apart.”
Her walls flutter, gripping me like a vise, and I speed up, thumb relentless on her clit, fingers ruthless inside her until shebreaks. She comes hard, body locking up, pussy pulsing around my fingers in hot, wet waves.
I ride her through it, slowing only when she starts to twitch from overstimulation, then pull my fingers out, letting her feel every inch. They’re glistening with her, and I bring them straight to my mouth, sucking them clean while she watches, eyes dark and hazy.
She tastes like pure fucking sex.
I lean in, nipping her ear. “Good girl. Now you’re really ready.”
I pop my door open and step out into the street, wiping my hand on my jeans like it’s nothing, when really, I’m still so hard I can barely walk straight.
Ghost spots Mara the moment we walk inside and goes absolutely feral with joy.
“Ghost!” Mara drops to her knees, and the cat launches himself at her like a furry missile.
I watch as Ghost climbs all over her, purring so loudly I can hear it from across the room. The cat rubs his face against Mara’s chin, her cheeks, her forehead, paws kneading her shoulders with devoted enthusiasm.
“Yes, I missed you too.” Mara laughs, scratching behind Ghost’s ears. “Were you lonely? Did you think I abandoned you?”
We’ve had some of the other guys stay here in our absence—to keep the lights on. But I don’t think many of the Omega Chi guys are cat people.
