"You thought about this?" He runs his thumb over my nipple. "When you picked out your dress?"
"Maybe."
"Thought this might happen?"
"Maybe."
"Wanted to drive me crazy?"
"Yes."
"Bad girl." He rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It's hard. Enough, it hurts.
But in a way that makes my sex clench. "Bad girl? For this?" I arch my back, lifting my chest.
He gets my meaning immediately. Rolls my dress down my chest. The sleeves catch as my breasts spill from the fabric. "For teasing me."
"You don't like it?"
"I love it." He kisses me again. The soft brush of his lips. Then the rough scrape of his teeth.
I groan against his mouth as he cups my breasts.
He's slow. Patient. Too patient.
His thumb against my nipple. Up and down. Left and right. Zigzags. Circles.
Softly.
Then harder.
I pull back. "More." I rock my hips. His pants are thin. There's barely any fabric between my sex and his cock. But I need it gone. I need his body joining with mine.
And I need this.
Him teasing me, toying with me, dragging out my bliss.
He rocks his hips to meet mine. Then harder. Enough, he pins me against the car.
Enough, I'm at his mercy.
And he takes his sweet, sweet time toying with me.
Those slow rolls of his thumb.
Then harder.
Faster.
Until—
Fuck. "Ollie." My fingers curl into his hair. "Please, Ollie. Make me come."
"Soon." He brings one hand to my hip. Holds me in place as he toys with my breast. Those perfect slow circles again and again.
Mmm.
Such wonderful, horrible agony.
He winds me tighter and tighter.
I rock my hips, reaching for him.
He groans as his cock brushes my pelvis. "Not yet, angel."
Angel. Fuck. The pet name sets me on fire.
He notices. He's glued to me. Watching every breath, every groan, every shift. Staring like I'm a mock-up he's perfecting.
Like I'm the only thing he's ever needed.
He brings his hand to my outer thigh. To the hem of my dress.
He traces the line over my legs, then back again.
Again.
Again.
"Please." My voice rises to a whine. I should hate it. Hate how much I need. How desperate I am for his touch.
But I don't.
I love it. I crave it. I want all of it, all the time, always.
My eyes fall closed as he traces the hemline again.
Again.
Again.
Finally, his fingers brush my inner thigh.
The fabric of my panties.
"Fuck." It falls off my lips.
He lets out a grunt of approval. Shifts his hips so I can feel his hard-on. "Look at me."
My eyes blink open. Meet his.
God, his blue eyes are so beautiful like this. Filled with the perfect mix of need, anticipation, control, desire.
His eyes stay locked with mine as he slips his fingers into my panties.
The pressure of his hand overwhelms me. His skin against mine. Oliver touching me.
It's almost too much to take.
"You get this wet for me, angel?" He breathes.
The pet name sets me on fire. I barely manage to nod. I'm too lost in anticipation. "Please."
"Please, what?"
"Ollie—"
His teeth scrape my neck.
"Touch me. Please."
"Like this?" His fingers skim my inner thigh.
"Make me come. Please."
He slips two fingers inside me. It's hard and fast. Almost too much. But somehow not enough too. "More."
He slips his fingers deeper.
Deeper.
Fuck. It's too much. It's not enough. It's everything.
He watches me carefully. Waits until my breath steadies and my brow softens. Then he pulls his fingers back and drives them into me again.
Softly at first.
Then harder.
Harder.
There.
"Fuck," I breathe. "Like that."
He nods. Brings his lips to mine.
Kisses me as he drives his fingers into me.
That perfect pressure.
Again and again.
I kiss him back as hard as I can. Like I'm claiming him. Like this is all I get.
We're a perfect circle of need.
His fingers driving into my sex.
His tongue dancing with mine.
Bringing me closer and closer—
Winding me tighter and tighter—
So fucking close.
But not close enough.
He pulls back. Breaks our kiss. "Show me." His free hand finds my wrist. "Show me what you need to come, angel."
Fuck, that's so hot. The deep tone, the demand, the patience.
I nod. Run my hand over his neck, chest, stomach, hips.
He shifts enough I can cup him over his slacks.
He's so hard and warm and huge. And I need that. All of it.
I run my palm over him, rubbing him over his slacks.
His eyes close. His head falls to one side.
God, it's so beautiful. This strong, impossible, in control man lost because of me.
"You first." He breathes. His eyes blink open. Fill with demand. "Show me." He rolls my dress to my waist. "Show me how you touch yourself, angel."
The pet name makes my sex clench. I barely manage to nod.
He slips my panties to my hips.
I bring my hand to my thigh.
There's no doubt about it. I'm on display for him.
Touching myself for his viewing pleasure at this semi-private place.
It's so hot it's wrong.
"Like this." No teasing. I go straight to what I need.
My ring finger against my clit. The spot a little to the right. Those quick, tiny circles.
Fuck.
I'm wound too tight. I'm too close.
"Please." It falls off my lips again. "Please, Ollie. I want to come on your hand."
He nods. Pins me to the car as he brings his hand to my clit.
A tiny, slow circle. To the left. The right.
A little higher. A little closer.
"There," I breathe. "Faster."
My eyes flutter closed.
His touch speeds.
Until it's almost what I need.
Then exactly what I need.
My lips part with a groan. My legs shake. My nails dig into his neck.
He draws those perfect tiny circles.
Again and again.
Winding me tighter and tighter.
Until I'm so, so close.
His lips find my neck. Then it's the scrape of his teeth.
It's all I can take.
With the next brush of his finger, I go over the edge. My world goes white. This perfect, blinding, blissful light.
My sex pulses as I come.
It's intense. So much my legs crumble.
But he catches me. Wraps both arms around me. Pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
I melt into him.
We stay locked like that, pressed together against the car, kissing like it's the only chance we have.
I pull back to catch my breath.
His eyes are still bright and vibrant and alive.
And I still need to make him come.
I kick off my panties. Right my dress.
Oliver bends to pick up my thong. He slips it into his pocket. Stands. Smooths my dress. Smiles.
"Less smiles. More taking off your pants."