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“I don’t want you to think about them, or worry that they’ll hear you. I want you to let go. Make another memory with me right here, right now,” he whispers.
Both men are looking straight ahead, I don’t think they’d dare look back here for fear of what Raoul would do. The windows are tinted so no one from the outside can see in. And the consistent humming sensation between my legs is making me actually consider this.
“Why are you hesitating? Good girls don’t question instruction, Evelyn.” His free hand squeezes my ass cheek that’s still tender from the night before.
“Make yourself come for me right now. And as a reward, I’ll fuck you like a good little slut when we get home.”
My eyes widen with shock, not just from what he said, but because his dirty mouth seems to make me more desperate. Raoul is giving me a break from our reality, and I actually like the sound of being a slut tonight. I want to come for him here, without caring who sees or hears me, and for some fucked up reason, I need to know how it feels to be fucked the same way he did all the women who came before me.
I focus on keeping my body tight to his, pressing my pussy against the hard ridge in his pants and using it to stimulate the ache between my legs.
“Touch me there, Raoul,” I plead with him quietly, all it will take is a little pressure from his thumb or a flick of his finger. With him it’s always so easy, maybe it’s the twelve years of pent-up frustration or the way he controls me.
“No,” he shakes his head. “You do this yourself. You take what you need like a needy whore.” I should slap his face, him talking to me like that shouldn’t make me want him more, but it does. I don’t pay any mind to the fact there are two men who could potentially be watching me as I roll my body deeper into Raoul’s lap and enjoy the sensation of his hard cock rubbing against me.
“Yes,” he nods at me proudly, the smile growing wider on his lips as he watches me get myself off on his lap. I press my fingers into the leather behind his head, and grind myself harder, finding the perfect rhythm.
“I’m close,” I whisper, closing my eyes and enjoying that familiar tingle as it starts to take over all the space inside me.
“You look so fucking beautiful when you come.” He keeps his voice low as I continue to ride his lap.
“Now, do it for me, wet those pretty lace panties.” His whisper triggers my release, and I feel my body jolt with thrill as I move my hands to grip the lapels of his jacket, biting my lip to stop myself from calling out his name.
When I’m done riding out my pleasure, I drop my head into his shoulder and let my thighs shake against the outside of his. Taking far too much comfort in the way his hand strokes softly through my hair.
“Good girl,” he rasps at me, keeping me held tight against him, all the way until we arrive home.
