He thought I was playing, so he drove into me even harder, deeper, punishing thrusts that hit that perfect spot inside me with every stroke, making stars burst behind my eyelids. I bitmy lip bloody to stifle the moans threatening to spill out, but my body betrayed me, hips rolling back to meet him.
The woman outside jumped at the subtle rock of the car, her head snapping toward us. Our eyes locked through the glass. Panic surged, cold and sharp. "Richard, stop! Someone's there!"
But he didn't stop. Instead, he flipped me over with effortless strength, pressing my flushed cheek against the cool window glass. My breasts squished against the pane, nipples hard and visible if anyone had been able to see inside. He entered me from behind in one brutal thrust, the new angle forcing him even deeper, the head of his cock dragging against that sensitive front wall. "Shut up and take it. You love this, don't you? Getting fucked while she's right there."
The woman paused, her face inches from the glass, realization fully dawning even though she couldn't see us. Her mouth formed a silent "oh," and she bolted away, heels clicking frantically into the night.
Richard laughed low and wicked against my ear, his chest plastered to my back, one hand fisting my hair to keep my face pinned to the window. "You're not honest, Natalie. Mouth says stop, but your pussy's gushing. Getting wetter just thinking about getting caught—like the dirty little slut you are."
I couldn't deny it. The thrill made me drip even more, my juices coating his shaft and thighs as he slammed into me. He reached around, fingers finding my clit again, rubbing it in furious circles while his hips pistoned relentlessly. The pressure built unbearably fast. I was close, so close, teetering right on the razor's edge, my walls fluttering wildly around him.
Only when I started to shatter did he pull me back down onto the seat, flipping me onto my back once more, reclaiming total control. He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand, the other gripping my hip hard enough to leave fingerprints. "Not yet. Beg for it."
"Please, Richard, faster! Let me cum! I need it, please!" My voice cracked, tears of frustration pricking my eyes as he slowed his thrusts deliberately, drawing it out until I was a writhing, sweat-slick mess beneath him. Every nerve ending screamed for release.
Finally, he sped up, hips snapping with savage precision, burying himself to the hilt one last time. "Now."
I exploded around him, waves of blinding pleasure crashing through me, my walls spasming violently, milking his cock as I screamed his name. My vision whited out, body convulsing, thighs shaking uncontrollably.
But he pulled out at the last second with a guttural groan, fisting his glistening shaft. Hot ropes of cum spilled across my chest in thick, pearly strands, painting my breasts, dripping down my cleavage, marking me completely. The sight was obscene and beautiful under the dim glow: my flushed, sweat-sheened skin streaked with his release, my pussy still clenching emptily, thighs glistening with our combined juices.
We panted there in the steamy car, bodies tangled and spent, the scent of sex heavy and intoxicating. He smirked down at me, thumb smearing a streak of his cum across my nipple like a signature.
Back to now.
"Natalie, focus."
Richard seemed to sense I'd zoned out. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, teeth scraping, and I heard my own moan escape my throat.
I snapped out of the memory of our first night.
From the moment I'd seduced him, I knew this relationship was mostly about physical desire.
But I wanted his love, so I kept changing myself, only for reality to slap me in the face—it was all a pipe dream.
What about Olivia?
Did Richard bite her nipples like this, making her moan? Did he thrust into her hard? Did he whisper dirty things in her bed, too?
I couldn't think about it anymore.
A sharp wave of nausea hit me hard. I pressed my hand to his chest, pushing with some force. "Richard, no..."
He stopped.
I'd never refused him in bed before. This was the first time.
So he propped himself up, studying my face in the dim light. "You're already wet."
Richard held out his hand, showing me the slick on his fingers.
Of course I was wet. My body hadn't been mine for ages. Even if my heart felt cold as a stone in a cellar, my skin heated and trembled under his touch, betraying me.
He stared at me for a long time, his gaze like a scalpel, slicing through layers, leaving me exposed. Just as I couldn't take it anymore and was about to speak, he moved.
"Then we'll do it another way." His voice brushed my ear. "You know what to do."
I froze. I wanted to say no, to push him away. But when his callused fingers stroked my skin again, pressing just right, all resistance crumbled against my body's honest reactions.
