Page 75 of Stolen Trophy


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His eyes flick to where I’m stroking and back to the road. “You’re going to get us caught.”

“No one is chasing us,” I say. “It’s just you and me.”

He shifts in his seat, and I can see his arousal pressing against his slacks. He’s not as unaffected as he’d like me to think. I bet he hates that.

“Genevieve.” It’s a warning.

I pull my hand from my pants, and he seems to relax for a few seconds before I bring those fingers up to my mouth and lick them clean.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing down against his clear arousal, the car jolting forward slightly.

I reach across and stroke his hand over his hard cock. “I could help with that,” I murmur in a husky promise.

He doesn’t stop my touch, so I push his hand aside and take over, stroking him through his trousers. The car jolts again, swerving vaguely as he sucks in a breath at the feeling.

The urge to taste him, to see his iron control slip, is strong. I reach for the fastening, surprised when he doesn’t stop me and instead puts both hands on the wheel, his eyes steadily on the road. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and I can almost hear his heart pounding. Grinning, I free him from his trousers, my eyes widening at the size of him. The ringleader is packing his own weapon. Goddamn, he doesn’t even need a gun with a thing like that.

I don’t know how long we’re going to be apart from the others, so I unfasten my seatbelt and lean over, quickly lifting my mask up and off to lick the head, a gentle touch that has him making a sound in his throat—a sound that goes straight to my pussy.

“If you’re going to do it, then do it,” he snarls. Rough fingers thread into my hair and grip tightly, pushing a little. When I try to fight him, he holds me there, demanding I suck him into my mouth rather than tease.

I open my mouth wide and suck the tip in, swirling my tongue in a way that has him groaning. I can feel the car slow, even as I take him deeper, sliding down over his hard cock and stroking him with my throat. Those fingers tighten to the point of pain, but I don’t care. I know I have far more control right now compared to what I’d have if he weren’t driving. Archer doesn’t give up control, but because he has to focus on the road, he can’t fuck my mouth like he wants to. He’d have fucked my face until I gagged and tears trailed from the corner of my eyes. God, the urge to rattle him is strong, so I slide up and down, taking him as deeply as I can. I can’t get him entirely in my throat, he’s too large, but I go as far as I can and swallow around him.

The car swerves as he groans, sliding farther down into the seat. The sounds and sight are so sexy, I wiggle for friction.

But this isn’t about me.

Wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock, I begin to work him both with my mouth and hand, relishing the feeling of his fingers holding me tight and moving with me. It’s incredibly hot to work him up like this as he drives a getaway vehicle with stolen art inside. Hell, I never realised just how hot something like this could be.

He groans low in his throat as I keep my rhythm steady, pumping fast. With my other hand, I reach down into his trousers and squeeze his balls. His cock jumps in my mouth, and I hear his breathing speed up above me, even as he drives. How we’re still on the road, I don’t know, but I keep working him fast, intent on making him lose his shit before we join the others.

His breath hisses from between his teeth as he jumps in my throat again, getting close. I can’t help the laugh that slips out and vibrates his cock. He jumps again, and his fingers tighten. God, he’s so fucking sexy like this.

“Yes, like that,” he encourages. “That’s a good girl. Don’t you dare fucking stop, that’s it, take all of me.”

Oh fuck. Wetness pools between my legs until I have to clench them tight for fear of soaking through my black trousers. I never thought praise from Archer would turn me on, but goddamn if I’m not ready to straddle his lap and ride him. That’s not something we can do, though, so instead, I work him faster, preening at his praise, ready to make him finish.

I salivate at the idea, heady on his submission.

“Fuck, faster.” He tries to sound demanding, but it only comes out like begging, his hips lifting to fuck my mouth, so I suck as hard as I can.

He moans, his cock jumps, and then, as we’re gunning it down the street, he pushes my head down and holds me there. The next moment, he comes with a guttural sound of pleasure, his warmth spurting in my throat. I swallow him down, stroking him with my tongue as he finishes. When his fingers loosen in my hair, I slowly slide back up his length and swirl my tongue around the tip one final time in a way that makes him jerk again.

With a grin, I grab my mask and sit back, pulling it just over my head but not pulling it down. I wait for him to glance at me as he puts himself away. The Jaguar picks up speed again, and I realise he’d been going slow, not because he couldn’t drive faster with the pleasure, but to give me more time. I see the black car up ahead, waiting for us.

Even with me sucking him off, he maintained control.

When Archer glances at me, I casually wipe the corner of my lips. Then, with a grin, I pull my mask down over my face, hiding away again.

“Don’t be so smug,” he grumbles, but there’s a little less harshness behind it.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I tease, content to sit back while Archer pulls the car into another seedy parking garage. We’re jumping back into the Range Rover moments later, and just as quickly, heading out of the city again.

I can still taste Archer on my tongue, feel his hands in my hair, and hear the beseeching in his voice.

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