Page 102 of Revv

Her grip stays wrapped around me, perfectly still.

“One more look and I’m done,” she warns. “I’ll leave you like this all the way to Miami.”

I snap my attention back to the windshield, heart hammering against my ribs. “Fuck you.”

There’s no bite behind it. Not when I’m already fighting the urge to beg.

Her laugh is quiet and smug. “Mmm, you wish you could.”

She begins stroking me, slow and tight, dragging her hand from the base to the tip with enough patience to drive me out of my fucking mind. Her thumb spreads the pre-cum over the head, circling the ridge again and again while my breathing turns uneven.

“Cece.”

“What?”

“You know fucking what.”

“Use your words, pretty boy.”

Her pace quickens just enough to send heat racing up my spine before slowing again.

“Please,” I rasp, the word escaping before my pride can stop it.

Her smile grows. I can hear it in her voice. “Please what?”

“Fuck, Mama.” My grip tightens around the wheel. “Please don’t stop.”

“Aww,” she whispers, leaning in until her breath warms my ear. “All that cockiness, and you’re already begging.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy every second.”

She picks up the pace, her grip tightening around me until my entire body starts to shake with the effort of keeping the car steady. When my hand twitches toward her thigh, she catches it and slaps it back onto the wheel.

“Both hands.”

“Mama—”

“Focus on the fucking road, Revel,” she whispers, her voice low and firm enough to make every muscle in my body tighten.

Then she lowers her head again.

Her tongue flicks over the sensitive head of my cock, slow and deliberate, and the sensation hits my spine like a live wire. My entire body jerks before I can stop it. Before I even catch my breath, she takes me deep again, her mouth closing around me with enough suction to make coherent thought officially fucking impossible.

Jesus Christ.

Everything beyond the windshield blurs into passing trees, endless asphalt, and cars I’m trying very hard not to hit. The rest of the world might as well not exist. All I can feel is the heat of her mouth. All I think about is the smug little smile I know she’s wearing while she takes me apart piece by fucking piece.

My hips buck helplessly toward her, my body reacting before my brain can stop it. Her hand keeps working what her mouth can’t reach, tight and rhythmic, matching every slow pull of her lips.

“That’s it,” she murmurs, drawing back just enough to speak.

Her tongue drags from the base of my shaft to the tip, so slowly my grip nearly slips from the wheel.

“Take what I give you.”

The fucking audacity of her.