“I fucking hate it. I don’t want anyone else to see you in it.” He finger fucks me, his thumb pressing against my clit as he drives me wild with his seeking fingers. I ride his hand like the shameless girl I am, seeking the release I know he’s going to give me.
“No one will touch me tonight,” I tell him, reaching for his wrist so I can hold him to me. “I won’t let them.”
“You’re damn right they won’t. But they’ll look at you. They’ll all see how fucking gorgeous you are.” He leans in, his mouth right above mine. “You want them to look at you, don’t you?”
I crack my eyes open to find his icy gaze on mine, heat flaring in the blue depths. “I don’t care about anyone else seeing me.”
“Really.” His voice is full of doubt, and I hate that.
“Only you.” I touch his face. Streak my fingers down his cheek, my touch gentle.
He ducks his head away from my fingers and removes his hand from my pussy. I literally cry out at the loss, aching with need. With hurried movements, he undoes his belt, unsnaps and unzips his trousers and slips them along with his boxers down his legs, until they puddle around his ankles. I watch as he wraps his fingers around his shaft and begins to stroke.
“Come here,” he demands and I go to him, falling to my knees on the floorboard of the car, suddenly greedy for him. Ravenous. I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and swallow as much of him as I can before I release him, sticking my tongue out so I can lick the veiny length. He doesn’t look away as I suck and lick, tracing the flared head with my tongue, lapping at the precum leaking from the tip.
“Fuck me,” he says, his fingers gripping my hair tightly, his gaze never straying from my mouth and what I can do with it. “Suck it.”
I suck him deep. As deep as I can. He lifts his hips, the head bumping the back of my throat and still I take it. I push his hand away and wrap my fingers around the base, guiding him, keeping my rhythm as I bob up and down on his cock. His entire body quickly grows tense and I know it won’t take long for him to come.
But he rips himself out of my mouth, our ragged breaths filling the steamy confines of the car as we stare at each other.
Without a word I climb on top of him, straddling his hips before I sink myself onto his thick cock.
Our moans mingle in the air as I begin to ride him. He slips his hands around me so they settle on my bare ass, guiding me, holding me. I lean into him, pressing my mouth to his, losing myself in his delicious kiss. Our tongues dance and lick, a whimper sounding low in my throat. This is what I’ve missed all day. Being with him. Having him inside me. I want him all the time.
Every single minute.
We don’t last long. We’re both too keyed up. I tumble first, headlong into my orgasm, the shudders taking me over, my inner walls milking the orgasm right out of him. He falls quickly after, his mouth on my neck, his hands still gripping my ass, kneading my flesh as he holds me to him and spills inside of me with a shudder.
I clutch him close as we catch our breaths, his face against my neck, his cock still inside me. Until finally, we pull away from each other, and I shift to the side so I’m sitting on the seat next to him.
“Keep me inside you,” he says, grabbing my hand and pressing it against my pussy before he lets me go.
I can feel his semen drip onto my fingers and I lift my hips, trying to keep it inside me, but it’s no use.
“That’s…impossible,” I say, watching as he tucks himself away and zips himself back up. He runs his fingers through his hair, sending me a look.
“Nothing is impossible if you want it bad enough,” he whispers, ducking his head so his mouth brushes mine as he speaks. “I want to watch you walk around the party tonight and know that my cum is dripping down the inside of your thighs. I want people to smell it on you when you stop and talk to them. I want people to know you just got fucked and you belong to someone else. To me. Do you understand?”
Just like that I want him again. How does he do this? With just a few words?
His hand comes up to grip my chin, his fingers pressing as he forces me to look at him. “Do you?”
I nod, my heart heavy in my chest as I whisper, “Yes.”
“Good.” He kisses me, and it’s soft and sweet and completely unlike our usual kisses. I want him to kiss me like this forever. “Get out of the car.”
I do as he says, always the good girl for Whit. I climb out of the car, feeling the unmistakable sensation of his cum leaking out of my body, coating the inside of my thighs. I don’t do anything about it. Instead, I walk up the steps, putting extra swish in my hips as I do, knowing Whit is right behind me, staring at me the entire time.
I hope he likes it. Even more? I hope he can smell himself on me.
He’s marked me. Like I’m his territory.
And I don’t mind. Not one bit.
Thirty-Six
Whit
I’m fucked. I don’t know when it happened, or even how exactly, but I am so far gone over this girl. I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore. Or with her.
The party is a complete rager, the house packed with people, most of them I know, or at least know of. Everyone here tonight is around my age or a little bit older. Don’t think there’s one person in attendance that’s over thirty.
Meaning there are drunk teenagers everywhere, openly doing drugs. Passing blunts, hovering over a mirror snorting coke—how eighties of them—and I swear to fucking God I saw a small group in the shadows, shooting up.
Stereotypes exist for a reason. We are definitely rich kids with too many fake friends, as Frank Ocean says in his epic song.
“Whit.”
I turn to find Spencer approaching me, a giant smile on his face, his eyes glazed over. He’s either drunk or high—or maybe a combination of both.
“What’s up?” I ask him. “I thought you were in the city for the week.”
“Found out about Leighton’s party and had to show.” Spence shrugs.
Leighton Michaels. Hottest girl from Newport. Graduated from Lancaster last year. Yes, I fucked her. Only once though. She keeps that pussy on lockdown most of the time, and honestly?
It’s not that special.
“You got such a thing for Leighton you had to rush right over?” I ask, raising my brows. Who hasn’t sometime in their life?
“Nah. I was bored. Knew you would all be here tonight,” Spencer says, glancing around the giant drawing room we’re currently standing in. “Have you spotted Dean yet?”
“I haven’t seen him, but I only just arrived.” After thoroughly fucking Summer in the back of the town car.
I can still smell her. Taste her. The feel of her pussy gripping my dick, Jesus. I can’t get enough of her.
It’s worrisome.
“Your sister around?” He does his best to keep his tone casual, but I know the truth.
Spencer has it bad for Sylvie, and I think she feels the same way about him. And while I’m not one hundred percent approving of this relationship, I can’t stop her from going after who she wants.
I can threaten Spencer to treat her right, though, which I already have. He blows me off every time I bring it up, and he’s about the only one who could get away with that.