Chapter 3 Cal #2
When we get inside the car, I discreetly scan for listening and recording devices with a small device my personal security gave me. No beeping means the coast is clear, so I lean over the console and hug my lightning bolt as tightly as I can. He sobs into my neck, his tears soaking my shirt collar.
I rub his back, making soothing sounds to calm him. “It’s okay, lightning bolt. Let it out. It’ll be okay.”
“N-no it won’t!” he cries. “My alibis are shaky at best, and they’d love to pin something like this on me. Putting a famous writer away will make their careers. The one detective has it out for me. I can’t go to jail, Cal. I’m too fucking pretty to survive on the inside!”
“Don’t worry. This will all blow over, baby. How about I order dinner in, and then we watch a movie together?”
He perks up, shifting in his seat. “A Christmas movie?!”
Ugh, fuck me. I fucking hate Christmas movies—and the holiday season—but I’d do anything for Bolton.
“Yes, whatever movie you want. We can watch it in bed while we eat dessert.” I rub Bolton’s shoulder, kneading my fingers into knots of tension he shouldn’t have.
He melts into the touch, a moan escaping him. The sound goes right through me, straight to the greed I always harbor for him.
“You know, I have some ass a la mode you gotta try,” he says in a playful tone with a smirk on his face.
If only he truly knew how tempting he is, how difficult it is to dampen the flame he sparks in me. I turn my head and nip at his neck, letting my teeth prick his skin. He gasps into my ear, trying to pull away, but I hold him close.
“Let me have a taste of you now,” I growl as I lick over the bite, sucking the skin into my mouth so he and everyone else in this city sees a big purple bruise tomorrow.
He bares his neck to me, and I lick and suck my way up, leaving a trail of marks.
A souvenir for him to remember me by when we’re apart during the day.
“Fuck, Cal, are these windows tinted?” he asks in a breathy voice.
“No,” I rasp, pulling his lithe body over the center console and sitting him squarely on my cock.
His thighs press against my own, their heat magnified in the cold car.
He bucks into me, grinding us together in a slow, deep rhythm.
He’s fucking teasing me. “You sick little freak, dying to get your rocks off in this parking garage where anyone can walk by and see us…”
I tinted the windows of all my cars as a safety precaution. He knows this, but the illusion of having an audience is enough to make him forget all about the interrogation. He leaks in his slacks, a wet spot forming in the taunt fabric, and I rub my thumb over his round head.
“Yeah, Daddy. Get that cock out and fuck me in the front seat. I want to bounce on it,” he frantically blurts as he unzips his pants. His cock springs out, leaving a wet spot on his shirt. He’s so hard for me, weeping for me to make him come.
I hate my height only when Bolton gets slutty with me in the car. I’m dying to take him into my mouth before he rides me, but we’re too cramped in here. I unbutton my pants, taking my length out.
“The ceiling is low in this car, baby. We’ll have to get creative.” He whines, and I chuckle at how impatient he is. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good.”
I’ll make him forget all about this bullshit investigation, until all he can think about is my cock, mouth, and fingers driving him insane.
People may not see us through the window, but they’ll hear him moaning my name, begging me to push him to his limits.
I spit in my hand, bringing both our cocks together as I lathe my saliva over us.
Slow, deliberate strokes are the perfect way to drag him to the edge and make him demand more.
“More,” he babbles. “Give me more.”
“Say please. Use those pretty little lips and beg me,” I order him. Before he can say anything, I stick two fingers into his mouth, pushing them to the back of his tongue until he’s on the verge of gagging.
“Please,” he garbles around my fingers. I push a little farther, and he shouts, “Please!”
I remove my fingers, claiming him with a deep, punishing kiss, an unspoken promise between us. No one can take my lightning bolt away from me. Not the law or even Bolton himself. He’s mine until a mortician burns my body in the retort. And even in death, I’ll follow him until he joins me.
I grip us in my hand again, pumping faster this time as I reach my wet fingers behind him. They swirl over his puckered hole, rubbing over and around it as I build him into a frenzy a second time. I feel him twitch in my hand, then stop. The look of pure frustration on his face is its own art.
“Stop being a sadist, Cal. Put your fingers inside me,” he demands, fucking himself into my hand.
“Do you have any lube?” I prefer to use it over spit, not that I’m opposed to the latter.
He leans over, opening the center console and fishing out a small bottle, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “I keep one in every car.”
My little lightning bolt is always ready to strike.
“Open it, and put it in my hand.” He flicks the cap open with shaking fingers, depositing it on my offered fingertips.
Circling his hole again, I slowly work him open with one, then two fingers. His soft moans float around the interior of the car as he works them deeper.
“I want to ride you,” he whimpers in my ear. “Gonna feel so full with you inside me, stretching me open with that thick cock.”
I stop stroking us. “Your mouth is filthy. What a slutty baby you are for me.” I line myself up, pushing his hips down as I fill him inch by inch.
“Come on,” he grits out, trying to slam himself down.
Taking it slow drains my control. I want to push up, impale him in one deep thrust—but I don’t want to hurt him, even if he’d like it.
I’d never hurt him on purpose again. When I’m fully seated inside him, he’s quick to fuck himself onto me.
With every bounce and undulation of his hips, he brings us both closer to release.
I lift his shirt, pinching one of his nipples until he hisses in pain.
He bites his bottom lip, trapping a groan in his mouth. I grasp his hips, stilling him in place.
“Don’t swallow your pleasure. The entire fucking parking garage will hear you come apart on my cock. I want them to hear every filthy, depraved thing we do.” Swiveling my hips, I hit a spot deep inside him that has him clenching around me for dear life.
He takes one of my hands off his hips, placing it at his throat. Ever since our first night in the woods, he loves when I control his breathing. He yearns for my hand pressing the sides of his throat, the airy, fuzzy feelings it gives him.
I oblige him, making sure he can still breathe as he starts a brutal pace again. His ass is going to be sore later, puffy, red, and leaking with cum.
Next time I need to bring a plug. He can keep me inside him until we’re home, and I can watch it drip out.
“Cal,” he gasps silently, pleading with me to finish him. He’s absolutely beautiful when he’s desperate for release and full of my cock.
“I got you, baby.” I’ll always have you. This man is my salvation, my everything.
Tightening my hold on his hip, I drive into him, meeting his every move. I can feel how close he is. His wild moans fill the car, driving me to an unhinged place inside me I try to keep under lock and key. A possessive, dangerous beast lives there, and it’s better for everyone if he stays trapped.
“Touch yourself for me. I want that hole to strangle me, baby.”
A few strokes later, he comes into his hand, locking my cock into a vice so tight, I lose myself for a second. I bite the other side of his throat, giving him a matching mark. We pant together in the front seat, my cock still inside his warmth and our arms wrapped around each other.
We hear footsteps outside our car, and Bolton’s body tenses.
A light female voice says, “Don’t come knocking; that car was rocking.” Her raucous laughter echoes around the garage.
A second female voice with a British accent replies, “Stop, they can probably hear you. You’re just jealous no one is fucking your brains out in a sports car in broad daylight. Good on them.”
We wait until we hear two car doors close and the unmistakable sound of a vehicle passing us. Bolton’s body relaxes, and we both burst out laughing.
“Fuck, that was hot.” He licks his lips. “Fuck me again when we get home?”
I start the engine, backing out of the spot. “Whatever you want, baby.”