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As he spoke, he became even more urgent. His tone, his body language, the energy filling the small car. To calm him, she put her hands on his face, framing it, holding his feverish look. She saw a man driven mad by whatever was going on inside him, grasping one possible thread of sanity...her demands. He wasn't topping, he was telling her what he needed. She wished the circumstances were different, that they weren't in a prison parking lot, his soul besieged by whatever crazy things knowing his father was about to be executed would cause.
However, according to evolution, man had started as a princely frog worming his way out of primordial muck. Good things had to start somewhere. If a prison parking lot was the first place he'd let her see his soul naked and bare, she would take it as the victory it was, for both of them.
Digging her nails into his scalp, she dropped her other hand to his chest, taking as tight a hold on his shirt as he had on her collar when he'd kissed her. "You're going to make me come, Duncan, with those callused fingers of yours. And you're not going to get to come for a long, long, long time. Not until I say so. I plan on being unbelievably cruel about that."
His gaze lighted with fire, and overwhelming relief.
"You come without my say-so," she managed to say in a steady voice, "and I will twist your misbehaving dick off with this hand." She caressed his cheek with it, scratching his bruise lightly with her nails. "You understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good. One more thing." She tapped his misshapen mouth. "You said you don't go in to see him. But will you today? Are you one of the witnesses?"
Slowly, he nodded. His jaw flexed, but she shook her head to keep him from feeling like he had to say anything more.
"Okay. When you come back out, I'll be here. You will leave me your keys, because you won't be driving yourself anywhere."
Before the darkness could rise in his eyes, she leaned in closer, spoke against his ear, her breath caressing him. She put all her energy into drawing him into a sensual web, even as her heart hurt for him. "We'll take my car to a hotel, and you're going to make me come again and again. As rough and fast or soft and slow as I demand, and everywhere in between. We'll start with you eating my pussy, because just thinking about you doing that, and knowing we can't do it here, is enough to make me want to have you do that first. A good, long time."
Just as she'd hoped, he'd become caught up in her words, enough he started to bend over the console, his knee sliding forward as if he intended to position himself to do just that. She stopped him with a firm grip on his shoulder. "No. That's not what I want right now. Fingers. Close your eyes. I want you to focus only on my pussy, and I'm going to look at you without you getting to look at me."
"No. I want to watch you come." His fingers pressed deeper. She caught his wrist, giving him a hard look. His dangerous expression slipped, showing that raw need again. Though he had to bite back what she expected were harsher words, she couldn't find it in her to be too hardhearted. Especially when her bad boy made a sincere effort to behave.
"Please, Mistress," he said again. "I...just let me watch you."
"Very well." She relented and settled back, releasing him. Bracing her knee against the door, she spread her thighs as she slid her other hand to his back to stroke.
Marius changed the angle of his penetration as she moved with him. The result was pleasurable, the stroke hitting the right spot inside. He added a finger, so he was using three, folded together. The man could fuck with his Mistresses' heads, but when he wasn't doing that kind of bullshit, he knew how to fuck them the right way, no matter what part of his anatomy he was using. She appreciated that in any man, but particularly this one, right now.
He went at it with intense concentration, such that she felt like he was aware of every nerve ending in that channel, the ripples of sensation through her clit and labia, the quivering inside as he hit those wonderful erogenous zones. Her body lifted and fell, her head tipping back, though she made an effort to appear like she was just sitting in a car having a conversation with someone, not being finger-fucked into total bliss.
She could hear the wetness of her cunt sucking on him, and a little moan broke from her as his thumb played music with her taut clit. If he'd only focused on the mechanics, he wouldn't have tipped her over so fast, but his gaze clung to her expression, swept over her body, so obviously savoring her every reaction it took her even higher.
"Your nipples are hard," he muttered. "I want to bite them."
She could imagine him doing it, the edge of his teeth like they'd felt on her palm, his tongue following behind to ease the sting. What would it be like to remove all restraint with him, let him be as wild and uninhibited as his lust could drive him to be? To trust that it wouldn't take them crashing into a brick wall like a fatal car wreck.
She brought him closer with the hand gripping his neck as she pushed up harder into his touch, her gaze holding his, a breathy moan coming from her. His cock was a bar of steel against his jeans, and her cunt throbbed as if it could feel him there.
"Please come for me, Mistress," he whispered.
"Kiss..." She didn't get the rest of it out, but he understood. He dove on her mouth, his own restless, violent and demanding. Her climax surged forth, wresting a scream from her throat. Hot fluid gushed against his fingers. Putting her hand on his face again, she prolonged the kiss, her body dancing with his hand, rocking together in a slow, tight waltz as she drifted back down to earth.
He laid his head on the seat back, his fingers still gliding inside of her in ways that had her shuddering with aftershocks. He greedily drank in every one of them with his intent expression.
At last, her body settled. His hand went still but his fingers remained inside of her, a place she didn't mind him being. She watched him, pleased with him, her body on a low simmer. His erection was still prominent against his jeans, registering his tension as he managed his own arousal. Holding it back at her command.
He rested the heel of his hand on her bare stomach. He used his thumb to play with the tiny silver spiral dangling from the curved barbell of her navel piercing.
"I love the way you feel," he said, his voice hoarse. "I just want to stay like this."
"Taking you to work like that might be awkward," she said. "Though I wouldn't mind bringing you to class on a collar and leash and letting you curl up under my desk. Keep me entertained with that beautiful mouth when my students are taking a test." The hot flash in his eyes gave her a wicked shot of pleasure. Brushing a short strand of hair along his forehead, she glanced down at his lap. A groan tore from him as she dropped her touch to give his engorged cock several firm strokes. "You keep it in for your Mistress," she reminded him.
"If she keeps doing that, it might prove difficult."
"Depends on how much you don't want your dick twisted off," she said, a threat and a tease at once. "Time to keep your hands to yourself, young man. I see the security check turning into the parking lot. The cameras probably told them there might be a couple out here exercising un-Christian thoughts."
He eased out of her. Though his erect state made him move with intriguing caution, he opened the glove compartment, producing a packet of damp wipes. "You can use these or, if you want, I can clean you with my mouth after he passes by. It shouldn't take long enough to land us in trouble."
