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Without giving her time to recover, Victoria spins her around with surprising agility in the confined space of the car. Harper ends up on her knees on the leather seat, her back to Victoria, pressing her hands against the tinted glass that separates them from the Chicago night. The sight of her own breasts reflected in the dark glass and the shadow of Victoria positioning herself behind her sends a new rush of adrenaline through her.

Victoria exposes her buttocks. With a sharp tug, she rips the lace of her panties, leaving them useless on the floor of the car.

“This position has always been my favorite,” Victoria murmurs into Harper’s ear, pressing her bare chest against Harper’s back. Harper feels the friction of skin against skin, the scorching heat emanating from her ex-wife’s body.

Victoria slides one hand down Harper’s flat stomach until she reaches her sex again, which is still dripping from the previous orgasm. With her other hand, she grips Harper’s hip possessively, guiding the movement.

“Victoria, slow down…” Harper moans, though her hips arch backward out of sheer muscle memory, seeking contact.

“No way. We’re not done yet,” Victoria replies with determination.

She thrusts her fingers deep inside Harper, while her mouth bites into the back of her neck, leaving red marks that will take days to fade. The rhythm is frantic, raw.

Harper presses her forehead against the window, savoring the contrast between the ice-cold glass and the liquid fire burning her insides. She moves to the beat Victoria sets, pushing her ass back with every thrust of her fingers, seeking a depth that will make her lose her mind.

“Look outside, Harper,” Victoria demands in her ear, kneading one of her breasts hard as she penetrates her faster and faster. “All those people out there have no idea how you melt in my hands. You’re the perfect editor… but here, you’re mine alone.”

Victoria’s words act as the final trigger. The combination of the public display, the claustrophobia of the space, and her ex-wife’s possessiveness drive Harper straight to the brink of a second orgasm.

“I’m going to come again!” Harper warns, stifling a sob of pleasure.

“Go ahead. Give me everything you’ve got.”

Victoria picks up the pace of her fingers, curving them upward, finding the perfect rhythm that drives Harper wild. The second orgasm hits with even greater intensity than the first. Harper arches backward, seeking Victoria’s mouth, as her pussy contracts in violent spasms. A long, uninhibited, guttural moan escapes her chest, echoing through the car as the traffic lights paint her skin red and green.

Victoria slowly withdraws her fingers, savoring the tremor running through Harper’s legs. She pulls her back until Harper falls onto her back on the seat, exhausted, her breasts exposed and her legs spread.

Without saying a word, Victoria slides down to the floor of the limousine, kneeling between Harper’s legs.

“Victoria… what are you doing?” Harper manages to say.

“I’m not getting tired of you,” Victoria replies with a scorching gaze.

Spreading Harper’s thighs apart with her hands, Victoria buries her face right between her legs. And she licks her without a second thought. Harper lets out a squeal of surprise and pleasure, digging her fingers into Victoria’s hair, completely messing it up.

Victoria’s tongue works with a devouring skill. Harper writhes in her seat, unable to control the jerks of her hips. The sensation of Victoria’s head between her legs, completely devoted to giving her pleasure on the floor of a moving car, is the most erotic experience she’s ever had.

“There! There!” Harper cries out, thrusting her hips toward her ex-wife’s face.

Victoria doesn’t pull away. She swallows her juices, intensifies the rhythm of her tongue, and slides two fingers inside her again while licking her mercilessly. The final climax leaves Harper floating in a void of blissful unconsciousness. Her thighs clamp down on Victoria’s head as the orgasm shakes every muscle in her body for what feels like an eternity.

When Victoria pulls away, her lips are glistening and her face is flushed. She sits up slowly, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand with an elegance that is insulting given the situation.

The car comes to a gentle stop at the curb. The engine idles. The chauffeur’s voice comes through the intercom, discreet and professional:

“We’ve arrived, ladies.”

Silence falls over the limousine. Harper and Victoria stare at each other for a few seconds, their chests heaving and their eyes wide. The remnants of their composure lie scattered on the floor.

Harper lets out a hysterical laugh and lowers her head, covering her face with her hands.

“We’re completely crazy,” she murmurs, trying to adjust her dress.

Victoria runs a hand through her hair to smooth it out, though a smile of utter satisfaction lights up her face.

“Maybe,” Victoria whispers, gently straightening Harper’s dress. “But it was worth every damn second.”

Harper looks at her, feeling how the fear of losing her has completely evaporated, replaced by an absolute, searing certainty. They get themselves together as best they can in a two-minute race against the clock, erasing the traces of their crime before the limousine door opens from the outside.