Daniella
Confidence drips from him as his fingers tap gently against the bottom of the window while I practically tremble in my seat.
I can’t decide if it’s the fear of doing this, here in the dark, with a complete stranger, or the excitement of doing it, here in the dark, with a complete stranger. But fuck if I’m not more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
Finally letting go of my reservation, I reach for the door handle, only for his voice to catch me off guard again.
“Nope. Climb over the centre console, open the passenger door, and ask me nicely for what you want.”
A shiver of anticipation ripples through me, and need coils low in my belly as I release the door handle, drop one hand to the smooth leather, and climb through the car.
The cowl neck on my top drops as I move, giving him a clear view of the simple lace hidden beneath—something he appreciates, if the way his gaze darkens is anything to go by.
Kneeling on the passenger seat, I press my forearms against the open windowsill and peer out at him, taking a deep breath before admitting out loud what I want for probably the first time ever.
“No names, no personal details. This is a one-night, one-time thing,” I state, waiting for his nod of agreement before continuing. “I want to suck your dick, I want to ride it, and I want you to fuck me so good that I can’t remember who I am. Think you can manage that?”
He nods twice, pensively, before looking around and starting the engine.
My heart dops into my stomach when he begins to roll forward, almost ready to jump out and hurl abuse at him after getting me so brazen only to turn around and drive away.
But then he turns the engine off, opens his car door, and plants his feet on the ground.
“Now, your door won’t catch mine when you open it up. Get on your knees.”
And just like that, all the heat returns, with lava running through my veins as I carefully push open the passenger door, realising the two would have crashed together awkwardly before.
They act like a shield from the road some fifty yards ahead of us, with the woods behind making this feel way safer than it is as I drop to the gravel between his spread thighs.
His intense gaze holds mine as he flicks open the buttons on his jeans, then shoves them roughly down over his hips until they gather in a pile at his feet. His cock is already straining against the soft fabric of his boxers as he palms himself through the material.
“Can I…? Do you mind if I…?” The questions come out stilted, my throat suddenly scratchy and dry, despite the way my mouth waters at the sight of him.
“My eyes are up here.” He coughs gently, amusement lacing through the words as I snap my mouth closed and look back up into his mesmerising, blue-grey orbs. “What do you want?” he coaxes carefully.
“I want to suck your cock,” I reply confidently with a nod. “Please.”
“Who am I to reject such a sweet offer?” he asks with a smile, reaching for my hands before placing them over his hardness.
Any embarrassment I should have about doing this out here with him disappears as he thrusts up gently, and I practically fall over myself to shove his boxers out of the way and wrap my lips around his silky shaft.
His thighs flex beneath my fingers as I tease my tongue around the tip of him, getting a taste of saltiness for my efforts.
Testing his size and my braveness, I bob up and down on him, my lips pulling tighter and tighter the lower I go, until I wrap my fingers around his base and pump my hand to meet the movement of my lips.
His rumble of appreciation has my toes flexing, and when he wraps the length of my hair around his fist, peeling the bits stuck to my face away and sliding them in with the rest, I know I may have bitten off more than I can chew with him.
He pushes and pulls, hitting the back of my throat, but not pressing any further as my nails dig into the thick thigh to my left.
He moves in measured strokes, groans and moans spilling from him, and as I tilt my head back and open my eyes, I consider forgetting everything else and just watching the way this man enjoys me.
The sight is something so erotic, I’m sure I’ll never forget it.
My eyes flutter closed again when he hits the back of my throat once, twice, and then pulls back, dropping my hair.
“Are you gonna be wet enough to ride this?” he asks cockily, sliding slowly between my lips. “Or should I make sure?”
Not needed. Appreciated, but definitely not needed. My French knickers are nothing more than scrap at this point, I’m sure.
After letting him go, I reach for his hand and slide it down my stomach before pushing it into my jeans. The angle is awkward, and the space is limited, but as I pop the button, and his fingers graze across my clit, I really couldn’t care less.
Adjusting on the seat, he reaches farther, his lips just inches from mine as our breath mingles, our gazes catch, and his fingers slide through my obvious arousal.
“Get those pants off. Let’s see if this is a race you can win,” he declares, running his five o’clock shadow against my jaw and nipping my earlobe with his teeth, dragging his enticing fingers away.
Hurriedly, I shuffle the denim down my legs, then throw the discarded fabric in my passenger seat as I turn to find him sliding his boxers down his calves—his face nothing more than a step away from my eager pussy.
Grabbing my thigh, he pulls me close before shoving his face against the delicate lace as he breathes me in. His hands slide around to grab my arse cheeks before he rips the fabric down my legs.
He wants to carry on, to go further, to bury his mouth and his tongue and his fingers inside me. It’s written as clear as day on his face. But he asked me what I wanted, and that wasn’t on my list.
Looking at the hunger in him right now, maybe it should have been.