When her hands slid under his hoodie and t-shirt to reach his stomach, his control almost snapped. What kept him for losing it was his knowledge that Devin was watching the video feeds. If this turned into full-blown porn, Sam knew he’d get hell from the hacker. The rest of the team as well, if he opened his big mouth.
That thought disappeared when Orla nipped at his bottom lip before sliding her tongue out to dance with his. He had to push her away against his desire and need.
The overhead lights flickered once before turning off. Darkness now surrounded them, and they pulled apart. Sam searched the darkness for the threat until Devon’s irritated voice sounded in his ear.
“I'm the one who shut off the lights. Cameras are down and I’m off to bleach my eyes, motherfucker.”
“What’s going on?” Orla hadn’t moved, but he could see the sudden lack of light made her apprehensive. On the other hand, Sam still saw clearly. His mask had paper-thin electronic lenses that blended with the fabric and allowed him to see, whatever the light intensity.
“The opportunity for you to leave, or to tell me to go, because if I stay, I won’t be able to stop myself from fucking you on the hood of your car.”
Sam knew she couldn’t see him and was unaware he could discern her expression with his high-tech night vision. Breathless, Orla seemed to hesitate, but her answer made him gasp.
The woman fell to her knees, working to unbutton his jeans then pulling them and his underwear down. No woman had ever been that wanton in sucking him off. Not before a good quantity of hard liquor and some heavy petting at least.
In the pitch-black environment where he was the only one that could see, Sam saw her bite her lips before swirling the tip of her tongue over his engorged head. Her hand had a firm grip on him as she enjoyed him like an ice cream cone. When her mouth closed around him lightly sucking, he had to hold back a snarl. He didn’t have to endure her teasing for long when her mouth formed a perfect O, and she swallowed his entire length.
His eyesight blurred when she started with a slow and steady suction from root to tip and back down again. Blood roared in his ears, and he couldn’t keep his gaze off her, she looked amazing in the shadows. Her eyes darted up a few times, but he knew she couldn’t see through the blackness that surrounded them. Still, she kept going, one of her hands caressing his thigh, making its way between his legs to cup his heavy sack.
That touch elicited a groan and mixed with the voice modifier was a reminder of what and who he was. He’d never envisioned doing something like this while acting as the vigilante. It was both exhilarating and a reminder that it was a one-off and couldn’t happen again. And as that was the case, he’d thoroughly enjoy it.
“Push your pants down; I want you to finger yourself while you’re sucking me.”
Lust filled his voice, and he could hear his tone was deeper, more commanding thanks to the overlay of the modifier. He saw Orla shiver. She released him and continued to stroke him with one hand, as she followed his order and unbuttoned her pants, awkwardly pushing them to her knees, bringing her panties down with them. Still looking up even though she couldn’t see anything, she took his erection between her lips again, but Sam was focused on the hand that disappeared between her creamy thighs.
A fiery tingle threatened to make him unload way too soon, but with clenched teeth, he rallied every single ounce of self-control he had until he got his impending release under control. Her mouth was magic, but what turned him on even more, was how her hand moved, and her hips responded as she masturbated. She moaned around his cock and Sam knew he fought a losing battle. Her hand sped up, and her eyes were now closed, he could tell she was lost in her own pleasure.
Something inside him snapped when he realized he wanted to be the one to control her pleasure. That for a brief moment, all she’d be able to focus on was what he was doing to her.
Without thinking, Sam pulled away, leaving her mouth empty, and hooked his hands under her arms to pull her up. He indulged in a kiss and slid a hand down to cup her ass. He cursed at his neoprene gloves and quickly pulled them off.
Kneading her plump ass as they fought in a kiss, he felt Orla slide a hand between them and close her fingers around his cock, sliding it up and down his length. Sam was content to indulge a little more until he touched her and felt wetness sliding down the inside of her legs. That realization spurred him into action.
He turned her, so her back was against his chest. He would have preferred to take her face to face, but with both their pants around their legs, it wasn’t possible. “Lean forward until your hands are against the column. And stay there.”
He watched her hesitate and search the air in front of her until she felt the concrete against her fingers. Sam took the opportunity to reach into his pocket and retrieve the condom he carried—part wishful thinking and part order from Lance to never leave a physical trace on anyone. His cock was near to exploding, but he be damned if he’d leave any trace of himself on the nosy reporter, great ass or not.
In this position, she was lying flat with her pert behind at his mercy, and he regretted not having the time to strip her completely naked and offer up to his wildest fantasies.
His hands cupped her ass, and she jumped in surprise, which made him smile. Despite his need to impale her until they both screamed, he decided to explore the bounty before him. His palms caressed her lower back, and he raked his fingers down her backside and thighs, making her shiver. Her head was back like she was looking at him, although there was no possibility of her doing so. Maybe she was listening to what he was doing or might do? With a smile, Sam slapped her ass, hard. Her sudden yelp echoed the throbbing of his cock. Orla opened her mouth and Sam suspected she was about to curse him, but before she could utter a syllable, his fingers dipped into the wet warmth inside her sex. Instead of curse words, a moan passed her lips.
Sam repeated his unexpected round of torture, the sting of a slap on her rump or lower on her thigh followed by the more languorous touch of his fingers on her delicate folds. Time and time again, he explored her quivering sheath, circling her wetness around her clit before halting the pleasure with another hard slap. He couldn’t see exact colors behind his mask, but he could feel the heated skin under his palm where he’d slapped her.
Now, his blond goddess was moving her hips in an unending dance, anticipating the slap, and impatient for what followed. He knew he was stroking the flame inside her, his cock pulsing on the brink of pain at being denied for so long.
As breathless as she was, Sam took the opportunity for one last round of teasing to sheath himself. Once more slap and rub, and as Orla pushed back, her sex opening for his fingers, it was his thick cock that replaced them and slid into the oversaturated flesh until he was balls deep inside her.
It was a bit clichéd to say the world stopped at that moment, but Sam became hyperaware of where he was. The morning was on its way, he was cock deep in the reporter in an underground garage where they could be interrupted at any moment, in his undercover persona, and he didn’t give a fricking fuck.
There was no time for thinking, and he moved his hips; the moans of this woman were the only music he wanted to hear. That and the sound of slapping flesh echoing through the hollow cavern of concrete, the feel of her tightening around him, hot and slick. It was heaven.
The time for teasing was over, and he ploughed inside her, changing his angle until the intensity of her moans turned into barely contained screams, and babbled requests for him to go harder.
There was no way in hell he’d be able to keep this up much longer. He wouldn’t stop until she was a complete mess of twitching muscles though, with pleasure short-circuiting her nervous system, and her juices dampening the length of her gorgeous legs.
The smell of her arousal overpowered those of tires and oil, and Sam reveled in her passion. Orla gyrated her hips, a signal she needed more to stumble over the edge, but with her arms maintaining her balance, it was impossible to do it herself. Sam took pity on her and circled her waist until he cupped her flowering sex in his hand and squeezed. Immediately, her core retaliated by tightening even more. Sam was on the verge of losing his mind and everything else.
With his fingers, he spread her lips and quickly discovered her hard little clit poking from under its hood. Her excitement had reached a peak, and when he used his thumb and forefinger to stroke it like a little cock, the effect was immediate. Orla’s knees buckled as she screamed. Sam used his other arm to keep her upright but continued until he’d drawn every single drop of pleasure from her. He circled and pinched her nub, prolonging her orgasm and only when he couldn’t hold back any longer he pressed his palm hard over her sex and his yell mingled with hers.
