Page 152 of Ricardo

I watch her in the reflection of the window, her breasts pressed against the leather of the seat, her face contorted in pleasure. Her knuckles are white where she grips the seat, her body rocking with my movements. She is a sight to behold.

One of her hands reaches between her legs, and I grab her wrist before she reaches her destination. I trap that hand behind her back and bring the other to join it.

I hold both of her wrists with one of my hands, her back arching at the angle.

"No," I command. "You come from this. From my cock inside you or not at all."

"I...I can't," she gasps. "Not like this."

"Yes, you can," I say, my voice firm. "You will."

My other hand slides down her spine, over the curve of her ass. I pause to appreciate the view. Then I deliver a sharp smack to her cheek.

She cries out, her body jolting.

"Again," she breathes. "Do that again."

I smile and deliver another smack, a little harder this time. Her response is immediate, a keening wail that's pure pleasure.

"You like that, don't you?" I ask, my voice dark with satisfaction.

She whimpers, her head thrashing from side to side.

"Say it, Julia," I command. "Tell me you like it."

"I...I like it," she stammers, her body shaking.

"Like what?"

"I like it when you spank me," she admits, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

I reward her honesty with another spank and a particularly hard thrust.

Her entire body tenses, her back arching even more.

She is close.

So close.

I can feel her cunt begin to tighten around me, her juices coating my cock and balls.

The scent of her arousal has filled the car. It is intoxicating.

She likes the dirty talk. An idea forms in my mind, and I'm curious if I can push her over the edge with it.

"Your greedy little cunt is soaking me," I murmur, my lips brushing against her ear. "Are you going to come all over me? Make a mess of my cock?"

"I..." she begins.

"Then what? Am I supposed to go to dinner like this? With your cream all over me?" I continue, my words a low rumble in her ear. "How are you going to clean this mess up?"

My question, delivered in a tone that's almost conversational, hangs over her.

Her response is a choked sob of pleasure.

"Ricardo," she whimpers, her body beginning to tremble.

"Answer me, Julia," I command, my grip on her wrists tightening. "What are you going to do about this mess you've made?"