Chapter 14 – Cristofano #2
She’s flushed. Eyes half-lidded. Breath shallow. That stubborn little smirk curling at her mouth like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
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The car is quiet, windows rolled up, engine off, the world outside sealed away in shadow and fogged glass.
She's in the passenger seat—barely breathing, lips red, skin flushed.
I reach across the console and take her face in both hands, kissing her hard. She kisses me back like she’s starving for it. Her fingers are already tugging at my shirt, pulling it up, slipping under to touch skin.
I help her.
The fabric comes off fast—over my head, tossed somewhere into the back seat. She’s stripping out of her top now too, wriggling in the tight space, laughter in her breath, nerves on fire.
I reach for the waistband of her skirt, sliding it down her hips, watching it pool around her thighs. She’s wearing nothing underneath.
Fuck.
I press my mouth to hers again, tongue deep, while I tug down my zipper. My cock is already hard, thick, and pulsing, heavy in my hand as I free it.
She climbs over the console, one knee on either side of me, and settles into my lap.
Her skin is hot, her mouth still on mine. I groan when her bare pussy drags against the length of me.
"You're soaked," I mutter against her lips, gripping her ass and rolling her hips forward. Her clit brushes the head of my cock, and she gasps into my mouth.
I don’t push in. I tease—grinding her over the length of me, letting her feel it. Letting her squirm.
She moans.
Her breath fans across my neck. She tastes like heat and sin. Her hips jerk forward, trying to line me up, trying to take what she wants. I hold her still.
"Say please," I whisper into her ear, voice low.
She bites my neck. “Please.”
That’s enough.
I grip her hips, lift her just enough to angle myself, then pull her down onto my cock.
We groan at the same time.
She’s hot, wet, tight. Her cunt stretches around me inch by inch, and my breath catches when I bottom out inside her. She exhales with a shudder, forehead against mine, her fingers curled in my hair.
And then she moves.
She starts to ride me—rolling her hips, grinding down into me like she wants to carve me into her. I hold her waist, guiding her rhythm, watching her unravel above me.
Her moans echo off the glass.
She tastes like heat when she kisses me again—mouth open, tongue desperate, body bouncing now, faster, harder, her slickness coating my cock with every stroke.
“Fuck,” I groan, watching her. “You feel like heaven.”
Her nails scrape my shoulders, her thighs tremble, and she rides me like she never wants to stop.
I curse under my breath, eyes locked on her as she leans in, hair sticking to her damp skin, mouth parted—wild and flushed and stunning.
Then she does it.
Her hand tangles in my hair, yanks it back, and before I can speak—she spits into my mouth.
My groan is instant, deep from the chest. Her taste is on my tongue, hot and filthy, and I grab her ass hard, slamming her down onto me with a force that makes the entire car jolt.
"You little fuckin’—"
She moans—loud.
The windows fog, the air thick with heat and sweat. I grab her waist and start to thrust up into her. My hips slam into her with every stroke, the sound wet and sharp, echoing in the tight cabin.
The car rocks on its suspension.
She cries out—hands flying to the dashboard, then the window, scrambling for something to hold as I fuck her from underneath, driving into her again and again.
Her pussy clenches, slick and tight, dripping all over me as I pump up into her.
“Ride me,” I growl, sweat dripping down my neck. “Fucking take it.”
She moans like she can’t speak—just gasps, whimpers, her head thrown back, her tits bouncing with every thrust as I slam into her over and over.
The car creaks.
The console digs into my spine. And still I keep going. Driving into her like it’s the only way to breathe.
Her cries break into sobs of pleasure, body shaking around me.
Her body starts to tremble on top of me—pussy fluttering, thighs shaking, every inch soaked with sweat and arousal. She's close. I can feel it in the way she gasps, in the way her hips twitch just before she presses them down harder.
But I need more.
I want to see her fall apart from behind.
“Turn around,” I growl, my voice rough in her ear.
She barely manages to lift her head before I’m helping her shift—pulling her off my lap, my cock sliding out with a wet sound that makes us both gasp. I turn her fast, guiding her to all fours in the front seat, her knees digging into the leather, her palms bracing against the dash.
Her ass is in the air—flushed. The sight makes my cock twitch.
Her back arches naturally. Her thighs part. I run my hand down the slope of her spine, then over her ass, squeezing until she whimpers, her breath fogging the windshield.
I line myself up, grip her hips—and thrust in. She cries out, one hand slapping the window for balance, the other clawing at the armrest. Her body jerks forward with the force of it, and I do it again—slamming into her with enough strength to rock the whole car.
“Fuck,” I groan, sweat dripping down my chest as I grip her harder. “You feel unreal.”
Her walls clamp around me, hot and soaked, her pussy pulling me deeper with every thrust. I set a brutal rhythm, sharp slaps echoing in the cramped cabin.
The sound of it is everywhere.
The slap of my hips against her ass.
The wet drag of her pussy swallowing me whole.
Our breath—ragged, loud, gasping.
Her moans turn frantic, mouth open as she tries to keep up, her body bouncing forward and back with every thrust. Sweat runs down the small of her back, slicking my grip as I pound into her.
The leather squeaks beneath us. The car rocks.
I slide one hand up her back, press between her shoulder blades, holding her down as I fuck her, like I’m trying to own every inch of her from the inside.
Her voice breaks with every thrust. Her cries melt into choked sobs of pleasure.
“Don’t stop—please—” she pants.
I won’t.
Not until she’s shaking beneath me. Not until I’ve wrung every drop of pleasure from her soaked, trembling body.