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“What are you going to do to me?”
His shadow blocks out the sun, his expression obscured by the light at his back. He keeps his shirt on when he looms over me and tears at my bra. The material lowers enough for him to suck on my opposite nipple, his mouth latching and working at me. Drawing. My hands go to his hair, but he pulls back and glares at me. A warning.
“Hands above your head. Hold on to the door, and do not touch me until I tell you to.”
He grabs my pants in both hands and rips them down my body, the material giving way with only the smallest friction around my hips. He tosses it into the front seat, looking like a fucking animal, and gives me only a fraction of a second to breathe before he latches his mouth around my clit his time. I cry out at the sensation, the effort of holding my arms above my head making my muscles ache. I lift my hips to press his face harder against my pussy.
“Yes, yes.”
It’s the only word I’m capable of making and the only one that matters.
He devours me, swiping his tongue through my moisture and lapping up every single drop. Keeping me writhing beneath him with one hand on my stomach, my thighs trembling on either side of his head.
The orgasm is close enough for me to taste it. Almost there. Almost ready to?—
“You are such a dirty little girl.” He breaks away to look at me, adjusting his posture to pin my hands above my head and press my finger against the car door. He jerks his hips to show me just how hard he is for me, and I thrash, denied my orgasm.
“What the hell are you doing?” I seethe.
“I want you to fight me, Isabella.” He pushes his chest to my breasts hard enough to cause me pain, and I gasp, my tongue darting out across my upper lip.
“Fight you?”
I’m chasing the orgasm, grinding my pussy against his leg to reach that peak and ultimately falling short. Desire fogs my brain, and I sigh again when Ricardo rocks into me, his eyes dark, memorizing every reaction.
He breaks his hold on my wrists long enough to drag me down the seat, the door open to allow room for my legs. Ricardo pushes back, his face twisted in a smirk as he draws down his zipper. His cock bounces free of its confines, and the sight of it, long and hard and pulsing, has me going wetter still.
“I’ll do anything for you,” I whisper, watching him stroke the length.
I pant, already tasting him, wanting him to slide the head of his cock between my teeth and act out the exact picture he painted earlier. He catches my look and licks his lips. Then he reaches for my head again, ready to fuck my face.
I block him before he has a chance to grab my hair and slide down the seat until my face is level with his cock. Ricardo draws in a tight breath as I start to suck him, grunting when I increase the pressure. Only a few swipes of my tongue has him pulling back and forcing me to release him with a pop.
“I’m going to make you explode.”
He shakes his head. “Not until I’m inside you again.” He grabs my thighs and tries to push me higher. When I refuse to budge, fighting against him, he changes tactics, nearly dropping out of the car to get between my legs. “I want to fuck you like we’re animals.”
Except the moment his mouth is on mine, the struggle goes out of me. His tongue slips through my lips as his hand slides between my thighs, and he presses the heel of his palm to my pussy. I cry out at the contact, and he swallows the sound.
“Fuck me any way you want,” I manage to get out.
At least there is less of an audience today. We’re in the relative privacy of the back of the car. Nothing else matters when he lines the head of his cock up to my throbbing entrance. Nothing matters when he slides the first inch in slowly and then slams the rest of his length to the hilt.
The motion drags a scream out of me, and at once, the friction of his pelvis to mine has the orgasm I’d missed earlier crashing down.
“Ricardo! Oh, fuck.”
He pulls back, my muscles tensing to keep him inside, and then thrusts home again.
“What a good girl.” The words echo through me in time with each twist of his hip, the pace brutal and intoxicating.
His hand finds its way to my neck again, and he squeezes to keep me in place while he uses my body. He must hate the way I went against him. Except the longer we move together, the less it feels like hate and the more it flows into something sweeter.
He drops his chest to mine, my breasts rubbing against his shirt and the friction causing me to tighten around him. My skin is overly sensitive, heat rising, everything in me crying out for him.
Not hate, no.
Something much more dangerous than hate.
