The waiter came up, and Ceci quickly tossed her napkin over her lap.
“Would you care for anything else, perhaps a flaming carajillo?”
That finger was taking turns caressing her clit and slipping inside her. And all the while he calmly conversed with the waiter, asking for every detailed ingredient of the carajillo and how exactly it was prepared.
He leaned in, grinning. “That sounds good. Would you like one?”
She was having a difficult time just steadying her breathing. She shook her head.
“You’re sure?” Clarke teased. “It’s a digestif. Remember what I said about digestifs.”
She nodded.
“Oh, you do want something?”
She shook her head.
“You’re satisfied.”
She stomped her stiletto heel into his foot.
“Ungh,” he grunted. He looked back at the waiter. “We’ll take the check.”
“Very good.”
Once the waiter was gone, he whispered in her ear, “Do you want me to stop?”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
He placed his left arm on the back of the booth in an infuriating nonchalant manner.
“I don’t know that I’d believe you if you said yes. Not when this”—his finger slid over her wet pussy—“is telling me no.”
The heavy heat building between her thighs was now flooding her entire body. She felt the electricity from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. It actually felt like her hair might light up and burst into flames.I might set this entire place on fire, him included, she thought, staring back at him as he watched her. His lips were hardly more than an inch away, but would he know when to—
Tell him to stop. Tell him. Don’t stop. Don’t. Sir Galahad.
Just as her body burst with heat, and all that air she’d been struggling for suddenly gathered into one earth-shattering scream, he placed his mouth on hers, one hand holding the back of her head, his fingers woven between the strands of her hair and pulling them tight.
Oh, Sir Galahad.
When her shaking reduced to a slight tremble, he released her lips.
He pulled out his finger, adjusted her dress, and patted her knee with a smug smile. Then he turned his gaze on his wet finger.
He slid his tongue up one side and then the other, like he was licking a popsicle.
“Mmm,” he murmured before placing his entire finger in his mouth. After he took it out, he leaned back in his chair. “Thought so. Even better than brigadeiros. So we can check that dessert off the list. And by the way, I heard you.”
“What do you mean, heard me? I didn’t say anything. As you’ll recall, your mouth was on mine.”
He grinned. “Yes, but your thoughts were loud and clear.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be shouting it out loud in another hour or so.”
??BREAKING: F1 DRAMA HOTTER THAN TIRE TEMPS IN BRAZIL??????
Last night, acertaindriver and acertainteam principal were caught kissing at an upscale restaurant—clearly testingtrack limits.????Sources say it wasn’t DRS they were activating, but feelings.??Stay tuned for the next Grand Prix: Passion, Politics & Pit Lane Scandals. #RivalsToLovers #ThisAin’tInTheRulebook
??F1 UPDATE??
