His arms were trembling as he gripped the wheel of the car.
“Yes,” he said savagely.
I let my fingers glide back up to the top of his shaft and rubbed my thumb over the head, slicking the swollen skin with his own pre-cum, massaging him, enveloping him, teasing him, pleasing him… all incredibly slowly.
I could feel his manhood straining, harder than I’d ever felt it before.
“Do you like thinking about making me come with that loooong… thick cock of yours?” I whispered.
His eyes rolled briefly back in his head, and he forced himself to focus again on the road.
“Yes,” he gasped.
I leaned way over and used my other hand to rearrange his boxers so that his shaft was finally freed through the flap in the front.
God, it was gorgeous.
Held in place by the cloth, it was standing straight up, a beautiful, sculpted piece of art – perfectly pink, very long, mouthwateringly thick. His balls were still in his boxers, so there was nothing but a long, uninterrupted, silky smooth column of pure sex.
I caressed him again, slowly up and down. His shaft contracted violently, just once, a single tremor, and a tiny bead of clear dew eased up from the tip of his swollen head.
I thought about using it to continue slicking him down with my hand – and then decided, no, I wanted to taste him instead.
I bent over the middle console, which was incredibly uncomfortable.
But the rewards were worth it.
After a bit of negotiating, I got my mouth right above his swollen head.
I used my tongue to swirl around the soft, hot skin… and then slowly took his head in my mouth, salty and wet and slippery against my tongue.
God I loved feeling him in my mouth. Just the softness of his skin… the heat of his skin on mine… the wet, sensual feel of my lips surrounding him…
And I loved hearing him. He was groaning now, moaning, a desperate man caught between pleasure and a burning need for more.
I was starting to really get turned on again.
I slowly moved down on him, letting my lips slide over his wet skin, taking him as far in my mouth as I dared. I was at an odd angle, it was uncomfortable, and he was incredibly large… I could only do so much.
That, apparently, was enough.
He grunted as I moved up and down, slowly, teasing him with my tongue. I took him out of my mouth, then brushed my wet lips down the underside of his shaft, taking extra care on the ridge of skin just beneath the head.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
I settled the side of my head into his lap, my right ear between his legs, and worked my tongue down around the base of his cock, probing into the folds of cloth, seeing how deeply down there I could lick –
And then I felt the car change course.
29
He turned the steering wheel and accelerated a little too quickly.
I looked up at him, which was a bit comical considering where my head was, and what was just a few millimeters away from it.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I have to have you. NOW,” he said, his face wild and furious, his eyes intent on the road.
“Are we at the hotel?!” I asked, fear freezing my stomach.
“No,” he said, his voice husky and low.
“Ummm…”
This was a little alarming.
I pushed up on my arms and raised myself from his lap, then looked out the window, hoping to God nobody would see the worst cliché in the world: gorgeous guy in Lamborghini, disheveled chick rising up from his lap.
We were away from the Strip and the crowds. I wouldn’t call where we were ‘seedy,’ but it wasn’t nearly as glitzy as the main drag. Not nearly as tacky, either. Vegas by night is a wonderland of lights; Vegas by day is a monument to excess and the question ‘Did they really think that would look good?’
We were outside something that looked like a condo or a timeshare – a bunch of tan, nondescript buildings. More subdued, not as tacky, pretty boring.
Not many cars were in the parking lot. Nobody was walking around outside, either. I guess they were all down at the main drag, and this was where they came to sleep.
“What are we doing here?”
Connor parked the Lamborghini, then hastily stuffed his erection back into his pants. It was kind of a process, considering how much there was to work with.
“I told you – I need you. NOW.”
There was something animalistic in his voice, a tone that was absolutely not going to be denied.
It was a little scary.
And very, very hot.
“What – here in the car?” I asked, freaking out – and puzzled, too. Why’s he zipping up if he wants to do it in here?
“No,” he said simply as he buttoned and zipped up. The head of his shaft protruded beyond the beltline of his pants, but it was hidden by his tucked-in shirt. I only know because I had watched him rearrange himself.
I so wanted to reach out and touch him again, but he was already out the door, slamming it, and then walking around to my side.
He yanked the passenger door open, reached down, and took my hand. He didn’t hurt me, but he was very firm about it as he dragged me out.
The heat slammed into me like he’d just opened an oven.
I staggered onto my feet as he shut the door and locked it with his keychain remote. Then he started pulling me towards the building.
“Wait – what are we doing?”
“I told you – I need to fuck you now.”
My breath caught in my throat, and my already drenched panties got a little wetter.
“Do you have a place here?” I asked. The idea seemed a little ludicrous – Connor was strictly a Nothing but the best will do kind of guy, and this place seemed more suited to my budget back when I was still a struggling secretary.
Like, yesterday morning.
“No,” he said as he dragged me up the sidewalk.
“Well then where are we going?” I asked, my panic slowly beginning to rise as I figured out what he had in mind.
On the backside of the building, all the ground-floor units had a series of patios that opened out onto a sidewalk and a grassy area.
I was guessing the sidewalk led to a pool – which meant a moderately high-traffic area.
Even though the place was deserted.
The patios were like little enclosed courtyards, maybe fifteen feet on each side, surrounded by six-foot high stucco walls, with sliding glass doors that led into the apartment. There was a tiny gap in the wall so you could go in and out of the patio, but there weren’t any doors or gates. Anybody could walk into one from the outside.
They were somewhat secluded, in theory – I mean, you could lounge out in your bathing suit, if you wanted, or chat with friends around the glass table with its giant umbrella in the center. But anybody walking by could see what was going on inside the patio. Maybe not back in some of the corners… but you would still get a fleeting glimpse.
Connor was walking past the open doorways and glancing inside.
No one was in any of them. All away at the pool or the casinos, I guessed. But there were signs of life: beach towels drying in the sun, empty beer bottles, long-dead cigarette butts in ashtrays.
At the fifth patio, there was nothing inside – no towels, no bottles, no ashtrays. The blinds were open on the sliding glass doors, and we could see the room was dark, the bed was made up, and there were no suitcases or anything else that might suggest an occupant.
Connor pulled me inside the patio.
“OH NO,” I said, shaking my head.
In answer, he pulled me into the corner, out of sight of anyone casually strolling by, and kissed me.
Hot.
Feverishly.
Lustfully.
It took my breath away.
I couldn’t help myself. I opened my mouth to him, letting him inside me.
He grabbed my waist and pulled me against his body. I could feel the rock-hard pressure of his manhood against my belly. His large, powerful hands grabbed my ass and squeezed tight.
I broke off the kiss. “Connor, no.”
One of his hands ran through my hair, grabbed me at the nape of the neck and pulled down so that my neck was exposed.
The feeling of submission and complete vulnerability was overpowering…
…and an incredible turn-on.
“Please,” he whispered in my ear before he lowered his head and began kissing me frantically on my neck, running his lips along my skin.
My eyes closed and I gasped. He was everywhere, firing my desire with his increasing urgency: his lips on my neck, then his tongue caressing my earlobe, as one hand cupped my ass and the other found its way to my breast.
“Connor,” I whispered. I was trying to protest, but the desire building up in me was overwhelming my ability to speak.
His fingers pulled roughly at my dress and bra straps and tugged down until my left breast was exposed.
That broke the spell.
Barely.
“Connor, no!” I gasped, craning my head around him to look out the patio door.
Nobody was out there.
“Please, Lily, please,” he whispered in my ear. “I know this isn’t last night, and I won’t do anything you don’t want me to – but please.”
When I didn’t say anything in response, he lowered his lips to my breast and began to greedily suck.
“Oh God oh God,” I moaned as his tongue swirled around my nipple and both hands clutched feverishly at my ass.
The spell was back on…
…mostly.
My eyes would close in ecstasy, then flutter open in panic, looking for someone to pop their head in through the patio doorway.
No one did.
His hands roamed under the hem of my dress and slid up my thighs, pushing the dress up to my hips.