Her look is wicked. “No.Touch me through them. It makes me feel like I’m doing something I’m not supposed to.”
My fingers glide over the satin in lazy passes, circling and teasing until the fabric is soaked and Natalia is sprawled against the door, one foot planted on the floor, the other shoeless and flexing, toes curled as she cocks her hips in time with my caresses.
“What an indecent girl you are,” I taunt, slipping my hand beneath the fabric.
She’s so wet that my cock jolts. I slowly push two fingers into her and she moans, high and trembling. My thumb returns to her clit, finding the rhythm that draws from her a whispered chain of “Yes…yes…” slow and soft and steady as water droplets.
She clenches around my fingers and I push in deeper, sensing what she needs. A dappling of sweat is on her upper lip, one glistening bead at her temple like a lustful diamond.
“Don’t stop, don’t…oh pleasedon’t stop…”
“Never,” I murmur back.
She grips the shoulder of my unbuttoned shirt, and I see and feel the storm overtake her—head tossing to one side, throwing her dark hair across her face as her hips jerk upward and she pulses on my fingers, a startled cry trailing off to a panting whimper. I lighten my touch, skimming her clit gingerly, and she locks herthighs on my hand hard, covering the area with both of hers as if trying to hold the pleasure there forever.
Scooping her into my free arm, I gather her against my chest. She sags on my shoulder, raking hair away from her face. Gradually catching her breath, she gropes for my cheek and lays a hand on it. Her thumb passes once back and forth over my lips.
“Thank you,” she says in a dreamy voice.
“I may never get used to how beautiful that looks.” I embrace her closer, kissing the dewiness of her forehead. “So thankyou.”
She sits up and repositions herself and her skirt to straddle my lap. With one hand she glides a path down my chest and stomach, settling over my cock, which asserts itself in an aching black-denim-encased bulge.
“I’ve inspired you,” she teases, yanking the button and easing the zipper down.
“In countless ways.”
She falls against my lips with an eager sigh, and soon she has my bare cock in her grip. She strokes me, long and slow, as we kiss.
“Klaus,” she whispers. “Can we…? I mean, are you, um…”
“Mmm?” I manage a rumbled questioning, but she doesn’t continue.
More kissing as she scoots closer, trapping me between her hand and the damp silkiness of her panties. Her hips undulate, augmenting the movement of her hand, driving me half mad with need. I groan into her mouth, digging my fingers into the smooth, warm curve of her bottom cheeks.
She rises higher on her knees and presses herself against the head of my cock, rolling her hips. Her head drops back, and I unclasp her lacy pink bra and slide my hands into the cups frombeneath, gently squeezing, thumbing the nipples. She sucks in a sharp gasp.
Suddenly I can feel there’s no fabric between us—she’s pulled her panties aside. She’s hot and wet, bracing my cock hard in her fist and dragging it through her engorged labia, tormenting us both by flirting with penetration, pressing her entrance against me over and over, a few times enveloping me just a centimeter or two.
“I want…” she begins, her voice a cracked whimper. “Would it be bad? Are you clean? Like, have you, uh… Do you know if…”
“I’ve only been with you since February on Santorini,” I tell her through a volley of kisses. I know it’s not a perfect answer, but it’s the best I can do, driven to the edge by her slick heat, the weight behind the way she’s balanced at the tip of my cock, ready to plunge down. “But there are other concerns, yes?” I force myself to ask. “Pregnancy?”
I lightly pinch her nipples, and she cries out. I feel her opening clench against me. In this moment, no force of physics seems stronger than the need to fill her—it’s a boulder of arousal thundering downhill, obliterating every sensible concern in its path.
“It’s a safe time of the month,” she says.
The words are barely out when she sheaths me entirely, stopping at the base and dancing her hips side to side to emphasize how thoroughly we’re joined. Her eyes flutter open, and she fixes me with those soul-deep blue pools as she begins to move on me.
“Is it okay to not finish inside me?” she asks. “Just give me a warning.”
“Anything you like. God… Talia…”
She rides me, slowly at first, then more energetically. Her hands roam, fingernails scraping my chest, pinching my nipples in replywhen I squeeze hers. I flip up the lace of her bra and pull her to my mouth, sucking and flicking until she loses herself entirely. Breathy praise and pleading spills from her kiss-abraded pink lips as she bounces in my lap shamelessly. The car is a symphony of wantonness—the sound of our flesh colliding, her wetness, and my gulping breaths as I try to hold back, sensing she’s near her peak.
“Talia,” I grit out, “it’s too good. I can’t…”
“Yesyesyes… I… I need it,” she says between gasps.
