Page 69 of Your Masked Haunting

“I think”—she flicks her tongue against my earlobe—“you should focus on driving, Spooky Boy.”

Her fingers trail down the sweater on my chest, and even through the knit material, I can feel her scorching touch. Lower and lower she goes until she hits the waistband of my pants. Sliding her hand out from my shoulder, she drops her elbows to the center console and pops her ass in the air.

“Hmm, what do we have here?” she asks.

I don’t know whether to pull the car over and tie her up in the back seat so I can focus on getting her home, or pull over to fuck her goddamn brains out.

Stealthily, she undoes the button of my jeans, and I tighten my fists on the steering wheel.

“Mona, I’ve got to drive here. You’re making that very difficult.”

“You want to keep me safe, right?” she asks, her breath curling up in the opening of my zipper.

I nod sharply.

This is so ungodly dangerous, reckless, all the fucking words.

“Good, then don’t crash,” she hums, her fingers slipping into the fly of my boxers and gently cradling my balls.

“You’re drunk,” I tell her, debating on if I’m taking advantage of her. But I think, if anything right now, she’s taking advantage of me. “You don’t need to do anything for me, Mona.”

Leaning down, she presses a kiss against my lower abs before staring up at me through hooded eyes. “I’m well aware. And I’m not drunk. Tipsy? Yes. Let me enjoy this. I want to do it.”

I don’t stop her as she brushes her thumb up the base of my shaft. “Fuck, baby.”

Carefully, she unsheathes my length through the fly, my dick bouncing off her cheek, and I have to force my eyes open wider as her tongue flicks out, running along the side of my tip.

There’s no hesitation or doubt in her movements, nothing other than curiosity and need. Her fingers fist my length, and she shifts her head further, taking the first inch into her warm, wet mouth.

Swirling over and over, she tastes the top before popping it out of her mouth and going again. She’s exploring my body, and I can’t help but wonder if this is the first time she’s done this without coercion. Taking her time, she works me deeper into her mouth, inch by inch, until I can feel the back of her throat. She breathes around me, and the cool air amplifies every sensation.

“Oh my God, Mona,” I grind out through my teeth, focusing on the white lines zooming past as we fly down the freeway, my cock in her mouth.

She giggles around me and takes me deeper, pushing herself until her back rounds out and she gags. Lifting up to the tip, she catches her breath before going back down.

Centering my left hand on the top of the steering wheel, I sink the fingers of my right hand into her hair as she takes another inch into her mouth. The adrenaline is spiking in my system, and it’s making everything over-fucking-whelming in the best of ways.

“Oh, come on, Scaredy-Cat. You can take more than that.” I fist her hair, and her back arches deeper. She’s enjoying this. “You tap on my leg if you need me to stop, okay?”

She nods, and I shift in her mouth from the movement.

“God, you are my good fucking girl, aren’t you? My perfect fucking girl.” I guide her head down until I feel resistance. There’s plenty more for her to take, but we’ll work on that when we’re not in a moving car. “Stick your tongue out further, baby. It’ll help with the reflex.”

She does as I suggested, and I push her head down more before guiding her up and back down, until she feels the rhythm right along with me. God, she has no fucking idea how sexy she is or how fast she’s going to make me come.

She moans around my shaft, and I groan, the sound filling the space around us. Once she’s comfortable with the pace, I push her, making her take more of me into her mouth.

“There you go. Fuuuck, baby. You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

The speed is perfect—both of her mouth and of my car. Our exit sign comes into view. Half a mile. And I’m not even sure if I’ll last that long at this rate. This girl has me wrapped around every single one of her fingers.

I don’t care about the passing cars and the people who can see her head in my lap. They can fucking watch for all I care. I’ll show them all that she is mine.

Wet squelching sounds overpower the music around us as she coats me repeatedly. She gags, but she doesn’t stop, not for more than a second. Fuck, I can’t take much more of this.

Her left hand takes the place of her right around my shaft as her right fingers slide across my balls and cup them, massaging enough to make me see fucking heaven.

“Oh shit,” I grunt, my hips bucking of their own accord to meet her mouth. “Just like that.”