The kiss ended, and he licked his lips. "Your mouth tastes like sweet liquor. I want more."
He reached for the car's mini-fridge, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. Popping it open, he dribbled the cool liquid over my heated skin, starting at my chest, letting it trickle down my stomach, pooling toward my core.
The contrast hit hard: my body burned, but the whiskey was ice-cold, shocking my nerves. I squirmed, craving the chill to douse the fire yet twisting away because it was too much. "Silas, it's freezing, ah!"
"Shh, let it cool you down," he teased, watching the amber streams glisten on my honey-toned skin. Under the ambient lights, it looked sinful, my curves shining like temptation.
He lifted my legs, draping them over his shoulders, and dove in.His mouth found my pussy, lapping up the whiskey mixed with my arousal. He sucked on my clit, tongue flicking relentlessly, then delved lower, devouring every fold. The slurping, swallowing sounds were loud, obscene in the confined space.
"Will the driver hear this?" I gasped, hips bucking.
Silas lifted his head just enough to say, "Scream if you want, Anthea. This car's a vault. Now come for me. Let me taste you mixed with that whiskey."
His words pushed me over; I shattered, orgasm crashing as he sucked harder, drawing it out until I trembled.
Only then did he shift, hoisting one of my legs higher and sliding back inside me. He pressed over me, his weight delicious, and lapped the remaining whiskey from my breasts, tongue swirling around each nipple.
"You're so fucking addictive," he murmured, thrusting deep and slow at first, building to a punishing rhythm. "This pussy was made for me, tight, wet, greedy."
I moaned, meeting his hips. "Harder, Silas, fuck me like you mean it."
He did, pounding away for what felt like forever. My legs ached, going numb from the angle, but the pleasure kept me going.
"Legs tired?" he rasped, pulling out briefly to flip me. "Kneel on the carpet, grab the door handle. I want you from behind."
I did as told, ass up, gripping the handle as he entered me again, slamming in deep. The new angle hit spots that made stars burst behind my eyes. "Yes! Oh fuck, right there!"
He gripped my hips, pounding relentlessly. "Take it, baby. Feel how deep I am? You're mine, Anthea, all mine."
But something built in my belly, not the usual climax pressure. It was fuller, urgent. Damn, I hadn't made it to the bathroom back at the bar. All that booze...
"Silas, stop, wait," I said, face flushing red. "I need to... get out."
He slowed but didn't pull out. "Why? What's wrong?"
I squirmed, embarrassed as hell. "I drank too much earlier. I gotta... you know."
A wicked grin spread on his face. He reached around, pressing lightly on my lower abdomen. The pressure made me yelp, the urge spiking.
"Silas!"
"Go ahead, baby. Piss right here in the car. Let it out."
My eyes widened in horror. "No way! That's disgusting. I'll mess up the seats!"
He chuckled, still buried inside me, pressing again teasingly. "The whiskey already soaked everything. What's a little more? Be a good girl for me."
I tried to hold it, mortified, but the pressure built unbearably. His thrusts didn't help, pushing me over the edge. Finally, I couldn't. Warm liquid gushed out, soaking us both as I whimpered in shame.
"There you go," he groaned, slamming harder, his own release hitting. He filled me again, hot and deep. "Such a good girl."
The humiliation mixed with the aftershocks overwhelmed me. I couldn't face it. My vision blurred, and everything faded to black. The last thing I heard was his soft chuckle, echoing in my ears.
Chapter Twenty-One
Anthea
I woke to warmth, my consciousness drifting back through layers of fog. The first thing I felt was a strong arm across my waist. I opened my eyes to find my face pressed against a hard, bare chest.
