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He trails his finger up my thigh deliciously. Shivers cascade through me at the gentle touch, and I instinctively part my legs when he touches my panties. It takes him two seconds to move the soft material to the side and run his fingertip along my opening.

“For someone who doesn’t believe what I’m about to do, you’re awfully turned on by the idea.”

Before I can respond, he flicks his tongue against me. My hips jolt, simultaneously pushing into him and away from him.

“Remember. People can see you.” He runs his hands up my thighs to my ass. “I don’t share well, Liv. That means no noise. None of that sexy-as-fuck moaning you do when you’re about to explode. The only person who should know you’re coming is me.”

His tongue is quicker than my words yet again, and he tugs my hips down for easier reach. God, his tongue is rough against my clit and soft against my folds, hard and gentle at the same time.

He runs his tongue along me, and I bite the inside of my lip. I swallow a gasp. No, no. Can’t let it go. I inhale sharply through my nose instead, and I’m rewarded with a gentle smack on my ass. I guess that isn’t allowed either.

I want to screw my eyes shut, to revel in nothing but the feel of his tongue exploring my pussy. I want to think of and feel nothing, but the sensations he awakens in me—the flood of heat, the rush of delight, the build of pleasure.

“This isn’t a bed,” I whisper, propping my chin on my hands so it looks to everyone else like I’m simply enjoying the view.

“I forgot to mention”—he sucks on my clit and I tense all over—“It doesn’t really matter if we’re not in bed. If I want you somewhere, I’m going to take you. And you’re going to let me.”

He slips one finger inside me and sucks on my clit again. It hits me like a lightning burst. My teeth clamp down on my lip so hard that I taste blood. Every fiber of my being goes into staying silent and not dropping my head to the boat like I want to.

God, I want to shout.

“One.” His lips brush against me with the simple, short word. “And still six minutes left. How do you fancy my chances for giving you another two?”

My eyes widen. Oh, hell fucking no. I’m not going to be able to cope with that.

A gentle buzz fills the air. Oh, seriously hell fucking no.

“Oh my god,” I breathe as he inserts the tiny bullet into my pussy.

“Surprise.” He laughs once then flicks my clit with his tongue.

He massages me slowly—too slowly but too fast. He moves the bullet inside me in rhythm with his tongue. I count seconds as the intensity overcomes me. In roughly ninety seconds, I fall apart once again.

“Two.” Amusement goes right through his tone.

He runs the bullet along me to my clit. It’s almost painful against the tender spot. I can’t bite down on my lip anymore—it’s in shreds. Instead, I bite the side of my hand, my thumb twitching with the pressure on my skin.

We pass under a bridge at the same moment Tyler circles my clit with the bullet and fucks me with his finger. He was right—people are lined along it and waving. I shake my hand awkwardly, desperately trying not to release the pressure inside me fully.

I’ve never wanted to scream, cry, or shout more than I do right now. I’ve never wanted to let the world know that I’m about to experience a crazily painful yet erotic orgasm in fucking public.

My eyes flutter shut, but I force them open. I’m breathing hard and fast through my nose, the frantic rise and fall of my chest thankfully obscured by my arms. I want to come.

I need to come. I need to end this, because I can’t take it anymore.

“Please,” I hiss through a clamped jaw. “Ty, please.”

With my words, he turns off the bullet. He obviously drops it somewhere because he wraps his fingers around my thighs and stretches his tongue along me. That one touch, the physical connection, is all it takes to shatter the tension inside.

Somehow, I don’t make a noise. My eyes are watery, my throat raw, my whole body shaking, but I don’t make a noise. I ride his tongue, letting the orgasm overcome me, consume me.

“Three,” Tyler whispers, moving from beneath me. “And I have ninety seconds to spare. How about that?”

I smile and wipe quickly with a napkin. I drop back on the seat, the dirty napkin in my palm, and close my eyes. “That was mean,” I whisper, incapable of anything else.

He leans over me, his hand sliding up my cheek and into my hair. “Look at me.”

I force my eyes open.

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