“No. I want to tease you. I’m hoping you’ll slip your hands up my dress if I do.”
I lock my jaw, clenching my teeth so hard my head hurts. “What will I find, Maia?”
“Me. Wet. Should I show you with my own fingers first?”
No! “Yes,” I hiss, unable to stop it. She releases me and I graze my hand over my aching cock through my jeans while she watches me in the dark light of the car. Then she lifts her dress and her fingers slip beneath her panties into her wet, wet pussy. I can fucking hear how wet she is. Smell how aroused.
She pumps herself a few times, moaning, writhing, arching her back, thrusting her tits and driving me absolutely out of my mind insane.
“Tell me,” I demand.
“It feels so good. Why don’t you try for yourself? Your fingers are thicker than mine. I bet they’ll feel even better.”
“I’m not gentle, Maia.”
“That doesn’t scare me, Keith. You don’t scare me. I trust you. You were watching me all night.”
“I might have been.” I’m always watching her. Even when she doesn’t know I am.
“You know you were. Explain.”
“Maia,” I warn, my voice sharp.
“Do you want to touch me, Keith? Now? Here? In the darkness of the car? In the place where my fingers just were? Where we can pretend a little? Tomorrow is tomorrow. I’m not thinking about that now. I just know I want you to touch me.”
“Maia!” I scream it this time. I fucking scream her name. My heart is thrashing violently in my chest as blood rushes through my ears and pulses in my cock. Yet I still manage to hear her move even if I can’t look over to see her.
Before I know what the hell is happening, she lifts her dress higher. I glance over reflexively and a deep, guttural moan flees my lips on its own accord. White panties. So pure. So perfect. So sexy and enticing and everything I’ve been jerking off to since I met her.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t want to touch me,” she whispers, but her voice is pleading with me not to.
I can’t.
That’s when my fingers flee the wheel, leaving only one hand on it to steer us safely home. I skim the rough texture of the lace over the warm wetness of the heaven beneath. Fuck. She really is so wet. And fuck, she smells so good. And much like my Pandora, I cannot remember all the reasons this is the worst idea ever. All the reasons this should never happen.
My desire has a power of its own. An urgency.
“I’m not fucking you tonight,” I caution, my voice hoarse. “This is here and it’s now and I want it so bad I don’t give a fuck about anything else. But I won’t do that to you. I have enough sense left in me to know how wrong that would be.”
“I know. I just want you to make me come. And tomorrow we can go back to us. We can pretend like I never asked you for this and you never gave it to me. If that’s what you want.”
It’s not at all but it’s all I can tolerate with her.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she pants. “I’m sure.”
I shake my head. “No. Maia.”
“Please don’t stop. Just… let me have this. I’ve never had this, and I trust you. I want it to be you.”
My chest clenches impossibly tight and it’s a wonder I haven’t killed us ten ways to tomorrow driving us home. My cock jerks in my jeans. Leaks in my briefs. I want her so goddamn much. “I can’t do more. I can’t,” I croak out. I can’t go through it again, I think but don’t say.
“I know. But even tomorrow, when the light of day makes every truth feel harsher, I won’t regret it. In the darkness of night, my body wants your hands all over it. And that’s enough for me right now.”
Jesus.
My fingers nudge her panties to the side, finding her swollen clit, finding her soaked for me, and listening as her breath catches. As it shudders along with her body. I slip a finger inside her only to roll my wrist so my thumb can rub her clit.
Her hips thrust up, her back arching as the top of her head hits the spine of the seat, her long hair spilling everywhere behind her. “Holy. Oh my god. It’s…”
“Tell me.”
“I…” she moans. Low and loud and my cock painfully slams into the zipper of my jeans, anxious and ready and needing her. Only her. Nothing and no one else has made me hard like this. “More. I want more.”
That’s exactly what I give her. I drive us home, one hand steering us, my eyes straight ahead. But my other hand is fucking her senseless. My mind completely enthralled on every move and sound she makes. I pump two fingers in and out, slowly. Slow enough it forces her to grind harder against me as she searches for what she needs.
As she explores her pleasure on my hand.
And while my fingers may be going slow, my thumb is not. My thumb is rubbing her clit, harder and harder, working her up to a frenzy that is sexy as all hell. The dichotomy between fast and slow is driving her out of her mind with need. She’s panting and moaning and gripping the windowsill with her good hand.
I wish it were my hair or my arm she was gripping like that. I wish I could feel her body writhe against mine.
“Keith,” she breathes, and I’m dying right now. I’m dying to watch her. Needing to see her. But I can’t. I’m driving. I’m not pulling over. I won’t do it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel her.
“You’re so tight.”
“Yes.”
“The way you clench around me. The way you grind against me. It’s so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot, Maia. Fuck my fingers until you come. Make yourself come on me. I want you to drip all over me.”
“I’m close.”
She is. I can feel the way her walls start to clench tighter. The way she coats my fingers. The sounds she’s making.
“Oh my god, Keith. Don’t stop. Please. This is… Oh!”
I look at her. I have to. She’s coming so hard, all over my fingers and my car, and she’s so so beautiful as she does.
I pull into my driveway just as her body sags back down in the seat. I slide my fingers from her, knowing her eyes are on me as I slip them into my mouth and taste her. Heaven. My Pandora tastes like heaven.
I don’t want to go inside with her. I want to shift my seat back all the way, lift her up and drag her onto my lap. I want to kiss her and bury myself inside of her.
She doesn’t belong to me, but I want her to be mine.
I put the car in park, turn to her to say… something, but then her lips are on mine.
Sloppy and wet with her tears. She’s crying and she’s kissing me, and I kiss her back.
Holy hell, do I kiss her back. I cup the back of her head and I hold her to me. My lips moving against hers. Desperate and hungry and anxious. And tender. This was more for me and she needs to understand that. She let me touch her and that is not something I take lightly.
I may be burning with a ferocity for all she’s doing to me, but I’m also burning for her. And not just because I want her body. But because something inside me needs her there. Needs this wild, out of control, nonsensical connection I feel with her.
That I know she feels with me too.
“Maia,” I whisper into her, regret lining my voice. I hate that she’s crying. “Did I hurt you, baby?”