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He started pulling off his pants.
“You’re funny, Kat. You’re just funny,” he said, still quivering with laughter. “Seems you only get horny when you’re angry.”
“Fuck you,” I said, tugging off my skirt. The words didn’t come out harsh. I almost smiled with him, but kept my lips shut, as if that would protect my fragile pride.
Once we were both in our underwear, Elliot tightened his legs around me as he leaned forward again to lick at my collarbone. The bulge in his boxers was so damn hard—it might as well have been inside me, my pussy already spilling, ready for him. Fuck. I needed him inside me.
“Why were you crying?” Elliot asked. The question caught me off guard as he murmured it, still sucking on my shoulder.
“What?” I said.
“You were crying when you came out onto the porch,” he said, sitting back to look at me. “Something must’ve happened.”
My first instinct was to respond,Whydo you care?
I sighed, rolling my eyes.
“It was nothing,” I said, but as the words left my mouth, I heard Eric’s grunts, Vivian’s gasps, saw it happening all over again in front of my eyes. “Nothing,” I repeated, sniffling.
Nothing at all.
Elliot didn’t press the subject further. Slowly, he leaned forward until his forehead was resting against mine. My thigh tingled as his hand moved along my skin and reached my soaked panties. With that one slight touch, pleasure rocked through me. My legs flexed wider.
He looked at me, and I nodded.
Elliot slipped a finger underneath the fabric. The contact made me feel like I was struck by a bolt of lightning as he sifted through the coils of my soft hair. I gripped him by the shoulders, and my back arched up from the seat as he slipped another finger into my panties.
Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I intend on staying one.
The words shot through me as he plunged his finger up my vagina.
I let out a seething gasp, and Elliot met my gaze, waiting to continue. Bucking my hips to give him my answer, I forced his finger farther into me.
“Fuck,” I breathed, pressing my head into his chest as he started fingering. “Elliot.”
He was starting out slow, sinking his finger in and out of me, a little deeper each time with a calmness that proved he’d taken the virginity of girls hundreds of times before in this car. He knew what to expect, he knew what to give to me, and how to give it.
But I knew what I could take.
“Fuck me,” I practically spat, looking up at him with cloudy eyes. “For real.”
Elliot shook his head. “Don’t have condoms.”
“Don’t care,” I said, taking his wrist and pushing his hand harder against my opening. “Do it.”
“I can’t,” he murmured, leaning against me. He plunged his fingers harder into me, and I quivered as he kept up the pace, thrusting faster and deeper into my throbbing pussy. My thighs felt like they’d melt right off my bones. The heat of his chest, his breath hot against my neck, his fingers pounding into me—all pure ecstasy.
Then it happened.
Heat gushed out my opening. Musky sweetness filled the air. It felt like the wind was knocked out of me. I collapsed back against the seat, my eyelids fluttering as my body relaxed. Elliot slipped his fingers out of me and raised them up. They were glistening with my insides, and he wiped them casually on his discarded jeans.
I remained there, motionless, watching as he climbed back over to the driver’s seat and gathered up his jeans, leaving me with my legs outstretched, panties half-tugged down my ass, sweat leaking down my thighs.
Glory.
That’s what this felt like.
Elliot didn’t look at me as he pulled his jeans back over his legs.
