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Bear raises one eyebrow and shoots me a look that makes my cheeks heat up. His fingers accept the challenge.
Chapter 12
Bear
I have to control myself unless I want every passenger, human and animal, in the car to hear me growl like an animal.
I can most definitely give my weather girl an orgasm by doing what I’m doing right now—stroking her pussy through her jeans with one hand and raking her nipple through her sweater with my teeth.
It sure as hell isn't going to ease the ache in my pants, but it’s hot as hell.
Little Bear is getting more urgent and angrier with me the more I play with the sultry female who's across my lap as if she's a rag doll serving at my pleasure.
I just can’t stop touching her.
And bless her and damn her for taking the wheel.
This is both insanely hot and sensual but also really goddamn frustrating.
It’s not fair, the more I scrape her and nip at the soft fabric that covers her tit, the harder my cock gets. She’s my little Christmas cookie, and the icing is in danger of ending up all over the inside of my pants.
Instead of where it belongs. On my weather girl.
Make that inside my weather girl.
My fingers work her over, and although I can’t feel her clit, I feel her very slightly rock her pelvis into me. She’s guiding her sweet spot into my rough, hard-working fingers.
At the same time, my head is dipping down, my mouth completely soaking the fabric of her sweater where her left breast is. I can nearly smell her ripe skin.
The sweater is taunting me. I ache to feel the skin underneath all these layers.
The surging desire to lay her down, spread her wide and have my way with her entirely naked body is overwhelming.
To feel her pussy. Is it shaved bare or not? Doesn’t bother me either way, as long as it’s mine.
To taste her there.
If it’s anything like the subtle scent of spices and figs on her skin, I'm going to enjoy ravishing her with my mouth.
And once I take her like that, I know I’m going to never let her leave.
She’s going to stay put and I’m going to devour her like that every night. Maybe every morning too. Maybe every afternoon.
Any minute of the day we’re together, is what I'm trying to say.
I whisper so nobody else can hear. “Have you ever tasted yourself? I bet it’s good.”
She’s biting her lip again. Shit, if she only knew what that does to me.
She doesn’t say anything but keeps her eyes on the road and shakes her head.
“Want me to stop talking like this?”
She shakes her head ever so slightly again,
My hand on her pussy moves more urgently, massaging her harder and in wide, pleasurable circles. I see her slightly flutter her eyes closed, though she's doing her best to keep her eyes on the road.
“You’re wetting yourself through your jeans, weather girl. It’s got my fingers even a little wet. Let’s have a taste.”
