Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
When my orgasm hits, it hits hard. A scream bursts out of me, and I melt against the seat. My body is hot and sticky, and I can feel Calvin’s cum between my thighs as he pulls out and sits back down on his side of the seat.
Breathing hard as I recover, I close my eyes. I should care that I’m lying here with my legs spread, Calvin’s cum leaking out of me on the expensive leather seats. I feel like I should feel self-conscious about it, like maybe he’ll think I’m sloppy.
But then Calvin reaches over and rubs his cum over my entrance. He pushes his thumb into me to push some of it back inside and impossibly, stirs the tension he just released.
“I thought you were being a good girl tonight,” he says, his voice gravelly.
My eyes widen and I look up at him. “So did I. Am I not?”
He scoops up another trickle of cum that leaked out and shoves it back into me with three fingers. “All of this should be inside you. Can’t have you wasting it.”
Something stirs. Something foggy, almost a memory. It feels like déjà vu, but I can’t place why, so I ignore it. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it should be in a condom. I can’t remember if I told you this or not—seems like I must not have—but I’m not on birth control. This is outrageously risky behavior. I would appreciate if you would start using condoms.”
“No,” he says.
I frown. I thought I worded it enough like a request, but even if I didn’t, who cares? This isn’t a sex thing, it’s a real life thing with long-reaching consequences. He should be as invested in not getting me pregnant as I am—more, actually, because he’s the one with a fuckload of money, and I’m the one he would have to pay child support for the next 18 years.
I guess he wasn’t satisfied with my delivery, though, so I add, “Please.”
He looks over at me, but doesn’t answer.
He pushes the last bit of cum back into my pussy, then uses his thumb to rub my clit.
My brain tells me to be more persistent, but pleasure convinces me to close my eyes and let him drive out all my thoughts.
He makes me come again, and it’s only when I recover from that orgasm that I realize the car isn’t moving.
I’m on my back so my view out the window is a bit skewed, but I realize it isn’t changing, either. “Are we there?” I sit up, moving my legs off Calvin’s lap.
Before I get all the way up, he plants a hand on my chest and shoves me back down.
Startled, I look up at him.
He holds my gaze, then reaches over and pushes his fingers in my mouth. “Clean them.”
My eyes widen and my heart jumps at the command. I swallow, then move my head forward, taking his fingers deeper into my mouth, and then drawing back so I can suck both of us off his fingers.
“Good girl,” he says, sliding his fingers into my hair and leaning forward to give me an obscenely chaste kiss on the cheek.
His scent lingers in the space between us as he slowly pulls back.
He smells so good.
I keep my eyes open, staring at him until he’s back against his seat.
He’s watching me, too. Waiting for something.
I don’t know what, but he doesn’t like to tell me. He likes for me to figure it out on my own.
My tongue darts out and I lick my lips, considering. Then, to make sure my bases are covered, I tell him, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
His voice is firm but sharp like the crack of a whip. It makes my heart jump.
I don’t know.
But the thought scarcely has time to flit across my mind before I realize, yes, I do.
I gaze up at him innocently, then utter words that are anything but. “Thank you for your cum.”
I don’t know if it’s the answer he was looking for or not, but it’s definitely the right one. His gaze heats with something dark and possessive. It feels like watching a flame as you’re stoking it, making sure to keep enough distance so it doesn’t jump out and burn you.
“You’re welcome.”
The pride and pleasure in his voice hits me right between the legs. I just came—twice—but I feel so strangely hungry for some elusive… something… and I’m convinced he’s singularly capable of doling it out. I want more.
I shake off the odd desire as I hear the latch and realize Hollis is about to open the door. Hastily pulling down my dress and sitting up in one clumsy movement, I try not to look too guilty when the door opens and Hollis comes into view.
My pantyhose and shoes are still off, of course. I didn’t have time to get those back on, and my panties are still on the floor.