31. Bindi #2
Cassidy’s hands come up—one grabs my ass, the other fists on the back of my shirt and yanks me forward so hard I gasp. My face is inches from his.
“You’re a fucking menace. You know that? Strutting up to that piece of shit and smiling like that?”
“You told me not to get caught. I didn’t.”
His grip tightens. “You told him I was your brother, Bindi.”
“You are.”
He lets out a guttural sound, something between a growl and a laugh. “Yeah? That what you call a man who finger-fucks you in stolen trucks and fucks you until you come all over his cock?”
I bite back a grin. “Only on special occasions.”
His eyes flash. “You think this is funny?”
I grind down on him. His cock is already hard beneath me, thick and straining against the zipper of his jeans. My body reacts immediately, hips rolling to chase the friction.
“No, I think it’s fucking hot.”
That does it.
Cass grabs the base of my shirt and yanks it up over my head. My bra follows, unhooked with the ease of a man who’s been thinking about it for too long. My breasts spill into his hands, and he palms them roughly, thumbs grazing my nipples.
“Jesus Christ. You’re unreal.”
I moan as he licks a wet stripe up my sternum and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. My back arches, grinding my cunt against the thick ridge of his cock. I’m dripping. Literally fucking dripping.
“I need you inside me. Cass—please?—”
“I told you,” he snarls, tugging my shorts and panties down in one motion, “you don’t tease me like that and not expect to pay for it.” He unzips just enough to free himself, and fuck me , I forget how to breathe. He’s thick, flushed, already leaking.
He grips his cock and guides it to my entrance, rubbing the tip through my slick folds. I whimper at the contact, trying to push down onto him, but he locks one hand on my hip, holding me in place.
“Who’s got you like this? Soaked and stupid and ready to beg?” he hisses against my throat.
“You. It’s you, Cass,” I choke out.
He thrusts up without warning, and I sink down with a strangled cry, the stretch toe-curling, the pressure almost too much.
“Fuck—” he gasps, head falling back against the seat. “You feel like fucking heaven.”
I rock my hips slowly, adjusting, and his hands grip my waist like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.
His voice drops. “Look at you, riding my fucking cock to apologize for letting that man look at you.”
“Fuck—” I pant, bouncing on him harder now, the wet slap of skin-on-skin filling the cab. One hand grips the back of my neck, holding me in place, the other fists my hair. My tits bounce with every thrust, and I swear I’m seeing stars.
“You think that asshole got hard just from the way you smiled at him? You should’ve seen my cock the second you said I was your brother. I almost fucking lost it. Tell me you’d do it again—flirt with him, use that pretty mouth to steal his keys.”
I grin against his lips. “Next time I’ll do more with my mouth than just smile at him.”
“Fucking hell. You’re gonna kill me.”
I slam down on him, over and over, grinding with each thrust. My thighs burn. My stomach coils.
He pinches my nipple, hard, and I cry out, clenching around him.
“That’s it. Come on me, Binx. Make a mess. Soak my fucking cock.”
“Cass—fuck—I’m gonna?—”
I shatter.
My body shakes with the force of it, vision white-hot, the orgasm ripping through me. I collapse against his chest, shuddering, biting his shoulder to keep from screaming. He holds me through it, hands tangled in my hair, murmuring filth and sweetness into my ear.
“Good girl. That’s it. So fucking good for me. ”
His teeth sink into my collarbone, biting hard enough to bruise. I scream, nails raking down his back.
“You’re mine,” he growls, burying himself to the hilt. “Say it.”
“I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”
“Louder.”
“I’m yours, Cass!” I cry, grinding down on him, chasing the edge like a fucking addict. “Fuck—don’t stop—don’t you fucking dare stop.”
He grabs my jaw, forces my mouth open, and spits into it.
“Swallow it.”
I do. Like its communion. Like it’s holy.
He groans. “That’s my good little fucking sister.
” He grabs me by the chin and forces me to meet his gaze.
Another orgasm hits like a goddamn freight train.
I clamp down around him, and he lets out a strangled growl, fucking me through it, chasing his own release.
“Gonna, fill this cunt. Gonna breed you right here in the fucking cab.”
“Yes, yes—fuck—please. Do it, Cass. Fucking fill me.”
He slams into me once, twice more, then buries himself deep with a roar. I feel him pulse inside me, and my cunt milks him for everything he’s got. As he comes down, he holds onto me, panting. “I fucking love you. I’d kill the whole fucking world for you.”
In a normal circumstance, that should sound off-putting. But instead, it ignites a flame inside me. Because the thing is . . .
I’d help him hide the bodies.
Cassidy’s still underneath me, all wrecked and glistening, his head tilted back against the seat like I just exorcised a demon out of him with my pussy. He hisses. “Fuck, Binx.”
I fall back into the driver’s seat as we both zip up.
“Let’s switch. I’m driving,” he says, still panting.
“What the hell?” I huff, adjusting my shirt and glaring at him. “You’re seriously pulling the alpha caveman act right now?”
“I’m not letting you behind the wheel while you’re still drunk on orgasms and feral vengeance.”
“Wow. Misogyny really is out in full force today.”
“You totaled a parked car trying to do a three-point turn.”
“I was fifteen!”
“You ran a red light last August, according to your DMV records.”
I shoot him my most dramatic gasp. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ll walk before I let you near a gas pedal again,” he says, already climbing out and circling around the hood.
I yell after him, “This isn’t a dictatorship, Reyes!” But still, I wiggle over into the passenger seat.
“I’ll give you my dick . . .”
I scream.
He yanks open the driver’s side door, slides into the seat with his usual murder-boy grace, and slams it shut. “Call it whatever you want,” he says, sliding a hand possessively onto my thigh, “but I’m not dying in a blaze of your bad decisions.”
I kick my feet up on the dash and cross my arms, pouting like the brat I am.
“Ugh. You’re such a control freak.”
Cassidy’s mouth twitches. “You can call me names all you want, Binx. But you like being controlled.”
“I do not!”
“Keep arguing, but it’s my cum leaking out of your pretty cunt right now.”