“I knew you were hungry, princess. But goddamn, you're a starving little vixen, aren't you?”
My body shudders by the way his words tickle my neck. His hot breath against my skin makes it impossible to form words. My throat squeezes tight, releasing a deep moan that teases him just right.
“Fuck, Viola,” he growls, bringing his mouth over mine but not quite touching. “Say it,” he whispers. “Say you want me just as much as I want you.”
The earnest way his words come out make me want to believe he's being genuine. I feel completely vulnerable in his arms, but I don't know if that's enough to trust him.
“You aren't the boss of me,” I spit back my earlier words at him with a sly grin.
“If we weren't parked off the road on a busy street, I’d bend your ass over so fast, you wouldn't even have time to brace yourself.”
I tick the corner of my lips up, wanting to push his boundaries. I move closer to him, letting my lips rest against his. “So improvise.”
He presses his lips to mine in a heated rush of need and desire. My body gives in, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer.
“Sit back,” he says, breaking the kiss. I do as I'm told and watch him climb into the back seat of his Challenger. Once he adjusts himself, I watch as he undoes his dress slacks and pulls them down to his ankles. I notice the large bulge in his boxer shorts and memories of last night send an ache between my legs. “Saddle up, princess.”
My brows shoot up in surprise. “Here? Right now?”
“Tinted windows,” he says as if that's a good enough reason. “What? You worried someone will see you not being a perfect saint?”
“Don't be an asshole,” I say, crawling to the back. “And I'm not a perfect saint.” I begin to unbutton my jeans and pull them down and off. I straddle his lap and feel his erection against my panties.
“Prove it then.” He leans back with his arms behind his head, and his lips in a crooked smile.
“Fuck you in the back seat of your Challenger to prove what? That I don't have standards?”
He grabs the outside of my bare thighs and rubs himself against my core. The pressure adds to the desperate ache that's already there. “That you're actually a bad girl hidden behind the dorky glasses and Harry Potter T-shirts.”
“Do you just have to push every damn button of mine?” I widen my legs, falling harder against him. I rotate my hips and feel him growing harder underneath me.
“Don't fuck with me, princess,” he warns, bringing his hips up to rub against my pussy again, his fingers digging into my skin. I start grinding against him faster, his head falling back against the seat with a throaty groan.
“And why's that?” I whisper with confidence. “You going to—”
He slides a finger under the fabric of my panties and moves them to the side. He rubs his thumb over my clit that's already sensitive and aching. He adds just the right amount of pressure to make my body sing.
My hands rest on his shoulders and squeeze as he slides a finger inside. I grind my hips down and feel him go deeper. “You want to tell me again how I’m not the boss of you?”
I want to slap that smug look right off his face, but instead, I lean down and kiss him. At least I can shut him up for now.
He slides a second finger in, moving faster and pressing deeper. He swallows my moans with his mouth and kisses me with absolute ferocity.
“Don’t forget my rules, Viola,” he warns as my body tightens to a crescendo.
I release a harsh breath, resting my forehead against his as the buildup slows, then releases. I grit my teeth, and say, “One.”
He smiles. “That’s my good girl.”
I shake my head at him, narrowing my eyes. “You’re such an egotistical asshole.”
“Whatever keeps the fire burning,” he quips, his fingers sinking deep inside again. “You think it’d be this good if we didn’t hate each other so much?”
I grind against his hand, feeling the pressure build up again.
“Everyone has their own ways of getting off, princess. And pissing you off, seeing that look of distaste on your face, only makes me harder.”
“So you’re saying hate-fucking is some kind of fetish of yours?”
