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He lowers his voice. “Baby girl, I asked you to do something, but maybe it was wrong of me. Am I being too pushy? Do you not want to do it?” He asks so gently, I could definitely tell him if that was the case, but it’s not. I want to do what he said, and the way he’s hard and forceful one minute and sweetly soft the next is weirdly hot and only makes me want it more.
I pull up the skirt of my dress and slide my hand between my legs, to fuck my juicy pussy with my fingers like he asked, while I stare at him, just as transfixed as he seems to be with me. “You didn’t sayplease,” I whisper.
He swallows visibly and lowers his gaze, to watch my hand’s every move. “Look at my face and hear the desperation in my tone when I tell you I want more of that sweet fucking taste in my mouth. Thepleaseis implied, woman.Gimme.”
The obnoxious honking comes again, long and angry this time. I collect some of my slippery mess, offer it to Gunnar, and grin when he grabs my wrist and takes my shining hand straight to his mouth.
He slides his tongue between my fingers in the most sinful fucking way.
I swear under my breath and glance out the back window, when I hear a car door slam. “Better take me home, before you get us in trouble, Gunnar Scott.”
He presses his bird-flipping finger to his window and watches my face, as he suckles my fingers. He releases them slowly and deliberately, and then pushes my hand back beneath my dress. “More.”
“Can I make that order to-go?” I glance at the angry face outside his window and pin my bottom lip with my teeth.
Gunnar grunts softly and pulls a different seatbelt part of the way around me, so I can push it home. “Buckle in right here, sugar-puss,” he says, putting the old truck into gear again. “You’re going to keep touching yourself while I drive, and Iwant you close, so I can feel every change in your body. If you make yourself come, I’ll know, and I won’t be happy about it happening without me. You went out of your way to ask me to do it for you, so your pleasure is mine tonight. Understood?”
I give an almost-nod, and he responds with a firm one of his own before pulling out into the street.
“Tell me what you’re doing,” he says when I shuffle around in the seat beside him.
“I’m getting comfortable.” I spread my legs and tug the skirt of my dress so high, I can see my pussy reflected in the highly polished wood of the dash each time we pass under a streetlight. “You’re pumping out heat like a furnace,” I mutter, pressing the back of my spare hand to my cheek. I wriggle out of my denim jacket and fan myself a little.
“I run hot,” he says, cracking his window.
He meets my gaze and smolders at me like a motherfucker.
“I believe it,” I mumble when he returns his attention to the road. Curious, I rest my hand on his thigh, and then slide it up and down, to feel the powerful muscle beneath my palm before inching my exploration higher.
“Don’t touch my dick when I’m driving,” he warns. “If you have to touch something, touch yourself. The wetter you are, the better you’ll take my fat cock in that tight, young cunt of yours. I’m getting bigger and harder just thinking about it”
I shiver and take my hand back, so I can snuggle closer to him while I rub my clit. “I like your filthy words.”
“That’s why I use them,” he says casually. “Scares away the prudes, and leaves me with the kind of women I enjoy. I like the way you respond to me, and you’re not shy about showing me what you want. Not everyone is that beautifully honest and open. You had much dick, miss?”
I avoid his eyes and shrug. “Not a lot.” That implies my pussy has had some action, but I know he doesn’t mean the dick-shaped glass dildo Shelby got me for a Graduation gift. I don’t think he’d take it well if I told him I was a virgin when it came to real-life cock. I doubt he’d make me feel anything for days then— probably drop me off at a church instead, given that he told me to pray earlier. I won’t be admitting actual experience levels to him any time soon.
“What doesnot a lotmean to you?” he probes further.
“It means I have standards to keep, and there are a lot of creeps out there, for a young woman to sift through, so I choose to pace myself. Early days, and all that.”
“Fair enough.” He chuckles softly. “Tell me about what you like while you’re fucking those fingers, baby girl.”
I love how openly we’ve been talking about stuff that might make some people clutch their pearls, and I pump my fingers in and out of my pussy a little faster, loving how wet I sound. “I don’t know. I like music. Knitting and crochet and stuff.”
Gunnar laughs out loud. “I meant what you like in bed, Shelby. But your answer was cute as hell, and I enjoyed it as much as I’m enjoying the sound of you juicing up your fucking hand to perfection. Let me lick those pretty fingers while you tell me the kinds of things you like to knit.”
I move my fingers toward his mouth, and watch him strain to reach them when I hold them just a little too far away. He grunts and grips my wrist like a lollipop stem again, which leaves him to steer with one hand, while he sucks at my fingertips. The more into me he is, the more excited I get, and the way he’s savoring every lick of my arousal is making me want his tongue between my legs so badly.
I shift restlessly on his leather seat, my breath coming even faster, as I try to focus on what he asked about. “I… um… I like making little animals. Barnyard and forest creatures mostly. The cute ones. Ocean critters and predators don’t excite me much.”
He sucks at me harder, and then flicks his tongue over my palm and down to where his fingers are wrapped around my wrist.
Did I cover my whole hand in my arousal? Because he’s acting like I did. His lips are soft, but his beard is the slightest bit scratchy, and the sensations are all so new and foreign and utterly intoxicating.
There’s a level of anticipation inside me that I don’t know what to do with. I’m not sure what to expect, and the tittering excitement in my stomach is making my heart rate hustle, like it’s late for something. There can’t be much of my flavor left, for him to lick, but I can’t tell if he’ll stop, when it feels like he may keep going until he devours me. His tongue tickles, and he’s making me feel so fucking edible, I want to offer myself on a platter.
“What do you do with the little creatures you make?” He brings my knuckles to his nose and inhales deeply before pressing a kiss to them.
