“That’s better,” he said as his fingers found the edge of my black cotton underwear trimmed with lace.
I bit down on one of my knuckles, swallowing back a guttural moan as he dragged a finger between my folds.
“You want it so bad, don’t you?” he asked, his other hand finding the base of my throat and holding me there with a gentle firmness.
I nodded as best as I could, my head lolling back against his shoulder.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me how much you want it.”
“I want it so fucking bad,” I told him between pants. “I need your fingers inside of me. Filling me. Please.”
“Good girl,” he rasped.
I ground against his hand at the sound of his praise and then pressed my weight into his lap, letting his erection nestle against my ass.
A deep groan echoed in his chest. He slid two fingers into me as he began to rub slow circles around my clit with his thumb. His warm tongue dragged along the side of my neck before teeth began to nibble on the lobe of my ear.
“You do that any harder and I’m going to come on your hand,” I warned him.
“I want to remember this feeling forever. I want to smell you on my fingers every morning and every night.”
“Give me your wallet.” My voice felt like sandpaper in my throat. He wanted something to remember? I could do that.
“Believe it or not, I’ve never heard that one while I’m two knuckles deep in a pussy.”
Fuck, that was a dirty thought and I loved it.
He slapped the buttery-soft leather wallet into my palm and I quickly opened it, pulling out a wad of bills. I was nearly delirious, but still managed to find three singles and insert them into the photo booth.
The smooth robotic voice began to count down from ten and I dropped the wallet and the rest of the loose cash on the floor as he made faster circles.
“Fuck my fingers,” he said. “I want you to come for the camera. For me.”
I leaned back against his chest again and held my hand against his as his fingers wrapped around my neck like a scarf.
Flash.
Lifting my hips up and down, I did just as I was told and fucked Isaac’s long fingers as he played me like a piano. He pushed another finger inside and made punishing circles against my clit.
Flash.
“I’m going to—I’m going to come,” I said.
“Show me how filthy you can be, sunshine.” He sank his teeth into the soft skin beneath my ear and I hoped—I prayed—he would leave a mark.
Flash.
I broke open as needy pleasure crashed over me, and I couldn’t help but cry out, the din of the crowd outside drowning out my sobs.
Flash.
His fingers began to slow and then he pulled out of me, leaving me with a sudden feeling of emptiness.
Gently, he helped shimmy my skirt down, his fingers briefly tracing the hole he’d torn in my tights. “We should go home.”
Home.The word settled in my chest, warm at first, and then heavy with meaning.
I wanted to tell him no and get down on my knees for him, but he was already guiding me to my feet with his arm wrapped possessively around my waist.
