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Siân screams as we come upon the next turn.
“Gentle,” I coax. “That’s it. Loosen on the wheel.”
She takes instruction well, missing the padded railing by a hair. “Oh my God, Christian.”
My chest heaves at the mention of my name on her tongue. I stare at her, fighting every urge I have to claim her.
“That’s it, beautiful. Whip it.”
She makes it around the track three times. “Shit. Shit. Christian. I’m going too fast,” she yells over the roar of the engine.
“Let up, baby. Don’t slam on the brakes. Just release the gas.”
The car slows, but Siân grips the wheel tight.
“Don’t choke the wheel. Just let it guide you. You’re doing great.”
She loosens her hold on the steering wheel and becomes one with the car. As the speed becomes more manageable, she gets a better grasp of the vehicle.
“There you go. Don’t let it get away from you.”
Siân presses the brake, maneuvering the Ferrari off to the side. Her breathing is out of control, and her hands are trembling from the adrenaline rush. “Oh, my God.” She huffs out a breath. “That was crazy. I can’t stop shaking.”
I smile and reach for her hands, cupping them between my palms and bringing them to my lips. Finally, her nerves seem to settle, but her chest continues to heave. And when I plant a kiss on each of her knuckles, her breath catches, becoming more labored than it was a second ago.
“You did good,” I praise, the recognition pulling a subtle grin from her. “Just try to breathe. It feels good, doesn’t it? Letting go and doing something reckless.”
Siân doesn’t speak as she fights to get control of herself; her breaths, her mind, her emotions. They’ve gone haywire, and I can see the shell cracking, the slight hint of enjoyment that she’s working double-time to keep at bay. But then something changes. There’s a glint in her eyes, and her breaths are no longer heretic but labored—painfully slow and lustfully charged.
And in an instant, she’s leaning over the seat, ignoring the tug of the seat belt to get to me. Siân crashes her lips on mine, her body melding against me, her mouth and hands hungry for my touch. But no sooner than our lips lock does she pull away, her eyes wide and her shoulders rigid with panic and regret.
“I-I shouldn’t have done that.” She sits with her back against the door and her hands out in front of her.
I blank.
Pure, adulterated thoughts flood my consciousness, and all I can think about is claiming her and leaving her dirty and ruined. At this moment, it’s a challenge to remember why I’m here, why I haven’t taken her yet.
Trust.
It’s all in the name of gaining her trust. It’s for that reason and that reason alone that I’ve stifled my darkest desires. When what I want to do, what I’ve been wanting to do is fuck her.
Hard.
Raw.
And fast.
Fuck, I’m hard just thinking about it—about her. The way she smells, the way she tastes. Does she whine when her pussy is sucked? Does she cream when fucked? Will she cry or beg for more as I bury my dick so deep she’ll taste my cum?
I got a glimpse of her pleasure the night I watched her as she lay there unsatisfied by that bitch of a man, Taj. Oh, but she knows what she likes. My cock thickens against the underside of my boxers, throbbing and begging for a taste.
Just one.
That’s all I need for now.
A lick, a suck, a stroke, anything to curb the desperation that’s presented itself around having her. But she’s not ready yet. No, she needs more time—I need more time. If I’m going to get her to come willingly, though, I’m not above forcing her. In fact, I’d enjoy making her do as I say when I say, to include coming on my dick until she can’t see straight.
I want to ravish her pretty little pussy. My pussy. Pussy that has been promised to me since before she ever thought about being stroked and petted. Pussy that lacked the proper care, attention, and worship.
And despite everything I’ve just told myself, I reach across the space and drag her to me, holding her in place with a hand at the nape of her neck. A heaviness builds in my chest, warmth spreading to my dick like a wildfire. He’s hungry for her, and I mentally promise that his time will come. He’ll get his taste, and we’ll destroy her for any other man.
Tonight, though, it’s about her and fulfilling my selfish need to watch her come undone. Siân pushes against my chest when I shove my tongue down her throat, but my hold never wavers. I fumble blindly until I find the latch of her seat belt and release it, forcing her into my lap in one swift motion.
