‼️sexually explicit content ahead‼️
please don't read if uncomfortable, trust me you won't miss anything important to the plot lmfao
I DON'T KNOW how long we've been sitting here talking, but it's much longer than I ever would have expected myself to last with Dane Anderson.
He's laughed multiple times, in ways that aren't mean or sarcastic, gracing me with the presence of a handful of smiles, and even leaning forward to listen to me like I'm the most interesting person on earth.
And, god, he's got me good.
"Shit."
I snort as he moves his hand toward the console for a napkin after he accidentally smears chocolate across his mouth, apparently as invested in the story I'm telling as I am in his face. A grin flits over my face as I slam down the plastic as soon as he gets it open, hearing the click.
"So graceful."
"Oh, you're one to talk."
When I move again, it's entirely gut impulse, body leaning over the console until my face is centimeters away, tongue licking the sticky sweetness from the corner of his lips before I lean back slightly, cocky. "It goes in not around."
He's still for a second, hazel not leaving my eyes as I settle back in my seat, satisfied by the fact that I've managed to stun him into silence.
Something familiar glints through his eyes, but before I have the chance to decipher it as a challenge, his face is darting back toward mine, hand coming up to grab my chin, tilt my face toward him. Then his mouth is on mine, cold chocolate that heats up as quickly as his lips part.
I react like I always do to him, wanting more, giving him easy access without so much as a fight.
He knows exactly how to mold me to his will by now, and when my teeth come down on his bottom lip in a weak attempt to be combative, his eyes open, and he shoots me a wicked grin, free hand relocating to my waist with vengeance.
His grip is heavy, and it sinks into my core as he moves his mouth to my neck, sucking so hard it hurts. I can't stop the faint gasp that leaves my lips at the contact, heat flaming up and down my entire body, shame and pleasure all at once.
But like the devil, I work harder, leaning away from him to grab his ice-cream-cone-occupied hand, fingers threading around his wrist, holding eye contact as I slowly run my tongue from the base of the cream to the very tip, hold it in my mouth, swallow.
His eyes are black like tar as he watches me. Lips floating to my ear after what seems like an eternity of silence before his voice, deep and low, meets my ear.
"Drama queen."
I don't have time to respond before he's attacking my neck again, teeth scraping against my skin to mark his territory, letting out an appreciative noise as I jolt at one particularly hard blow.
I'm losing. This is once again a game, and I'm fucking losing.
Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
I shove Dane away from me, pulling my leg over the console and discarding the cone before he has the chance to speak. Shimmying down onto his lap, nails digging into his shoulders as I try to situate myself. I don't give him any time to process this new arrangement before my mouth is on his again, body relishing in the feel of him beneath me. The fact that he has to crane his neck to look up at me, retaliate.
I lean closer, head tilting to the right as one of my hands leaves his shoulder to grasp at the reclining lever on the side of his chair.
We go down like dominoes, and I come to the conclusion that I very much like having him under me.
His fingers dig into my waist as I continue to kiss him, hips pressing into mine and instantly drawing my attention to the hardness beneath his pants.
My back arches, and he takes notice, shooting me a dirty grin from under his lashes before pulling me closer, grinding into me.
Holy shit.
I try to hide my surprise, gasping out a question as his hands shift lower. "What do you think Roselyn thinks we're doing right now?"
"Having lunch at a cafe. I'm picking you out flowers and telling you you look pretty," is his response, hold on my ass tightening. "Then we're going on a walk around the park."
"Really?" The lace beneath my skirt is soaked, spot between my legs pulsating. "You don't think she'd think we're fucking in your car?"
"Mm, no," he hums, head darting down before his tongue glides up the length of my neck, making me squeeze my legs tight around his to try to soothe the throbbing. Then his mouth is at my ear, voice hot. "Do you really think I'd fuck you?"
"That would be extremely inappropriate of you." My hand finds the zipper of his slacks, tearing it down before I'm palming him through his underwear.
He jolts at the feel of my hand on his dick, cursing profusely into my ear as I slide into a more comfortable position on top of him. Then I lean forward, whispering, "And you would never do anything inappropriate, would you, Doggy?"
That's enough to break him, hands immediately snapping back up to grab the hem of my shirt, easily tugging it over my head with a little help from yours truly.
His mouth is at my tits in an instant, lips and tongue gracing the curves uncovered by my bra like an angel who's sinned one too many times, divine and unholy.
Touch burning me like a wildfire, messy hair soft and sweet against my chest, eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings, grip leaving bruises down my arms, thighs, ass until I can't remember my own name.
I feel like I might combust as his hand moves up to feel me through my bra, pressing lightly on sensitive skin before it dips down beneath flimsy fabric, fingertip trailing the length of the band, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
My hands wander up his shirt, quick to unbutton the collar and everything beneath, revealing a strip of toned, brown skin that I've seen in pieces. Rare movements when I've made out with him, the second time I'd so-called 'asked him out.'
My nails dig into his abs as his mouth finds a sensitive spot, my body jolting wildly at licks and kisses.
I'm not sure exactly how long this torture lasts before he's leaning forward, hand secure around my back to pop open the glove compartment, revealing a quick flash of foil.
He pushes back, head to the seat, dark curls fanned out like the halo of a sinner. Then we're immediately shooting back up, my back pressing tightly to the steering wheel, making it impossible for me to not feel him everywhere.
Automatically, I'm more turned on than I've ever been before.
I go to grab for the condom, eyes narrowing as he pulls it away from my hands. "What's the magic word?"
He has crazy eyes.
"Give me the—"
I'm shut up with his mouth on mine, hips jolting into me. "Shh, shh. That's not the magic word, kitten."
"Stop calling me that."
"Try again."
I lurch forward, snatching the foil from out of his hand before easily tearing it open with my teeth. "Up. Now."
Dane seems surprised by the order but only for a split second, lifting his hips off the seat enough for me to yank down the band of his underwear leaving absolutely nothing between us but thin lace.
Oh my god.
I swallow thickly, fighting the urge to flip him off as his eyes glint with mirth. "What's wrong, Cleodora? Cat got your tongue?"
I do my best to ignore the taunt, slipping the condom on with shaky hands. My touch sends a wave of pleasure up his body and into his face, eyes darting away from mine before refocusing, hands coming down to help me. Soft, gently closing around my wrists.
"You okay?"
"Just stellar—" A harsh breath pushes from my lips as his hand glides up my leg, rubbing the skin of my inner thigh, brushing over my panties.
His lips twitch at my failed dry response.
My heart threatens to climb its way out of my chest when he eventually hooks his fingers into the band of my underwear, skin pressed against mine delicately.
I let my arms wrap around his neck, lifting my hips more to allow him to guide the flimsy material off onto the floor of the car with ease before his hands travel back up, pupils blown, hair a mess.
He takes his time letting his eyes roam over me, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, unfiltered desire striking through hazel like a chord. I'm half-clothed, but I feel more naked than I've ever been in my life. And when my legs clench together tightly, he makes a strangled noise, hands on the back of my waist suddenly pulling me flush to him.
Goddamn.
I make a noise as his boner pushes into my abdomen, legs pulling tighter, dizzy with the feel of him as my back presses to the wheel.
Then we're kissing again, agonizingly slow this time. Every time I try to speed up the pace, he goes slower, chuckle leaking into my mouth at my impatience.
I reach up to grab a fistful of his hair, pulling hard in protest, but it only seems to encourage him to mess with me more, grip on my thighs tightening before he catches my tongue between his teeth.
He has me playing his game. It's a miracle I'm not more upset about it.
His eyes are open, angled up to meet mine, before he ever so slowly lets me out the trap, tongue slowly gliding over mine as if making a point.
Chills run down my spine, skin burning everywhere. And just like that I need to have him.
He must see it in my face because he smirks, an evil thing that looks way too good on him.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Cleodora?"
My blood runs cold.
"I dare you."
His eyes darken at my response before hands suddenly shift, arms hoisting me higher until I'm sinking quickly onto him, labored breath pushing through my lips at the sharp contact, nails digging into his shoulder blades like daggers.
"Fuck!"
He bucks his hips, hard, not waiting for me to adjust, eyes open, still drinking me in with an amused kind of lust.
"You're this wet," A labored breath, "for me, Princess?"
All I can think is fuck him, my eyes screwing tightly shut, mind going haywire, pleasure bounding up my core.
He continues to move with me, thrusting at a steady rhythm, slowness that gradually starts to gain traction, and I ride him, limbs going weak, teeth biting down hard on my bottom lip.
He's merciless, mouth meeting my ear every time I moan, filthy whispers in hot breath. How good I feel, how tight I am, you take me so good, Minha gatinha, why didn't we do this sooner? And I revel in it, more turned on than I've ever been in my entire life.
A strangled groan sends chills down my spine as I push myself down onto him, hips grinding, head burying into his neck, breath coming out hard. He pushes me back harder, and my back arches toward him.
"You're so beautiful, Cleodora." His voice is so fucking hot even while shaky, our bodies moving together, my eyes closed in delirium. "The galaxy could implode and I wouldn't even notice."
"Shut up," I grit out between heavy breaths.
"No, really."
My stomach turns over as my gaze falls on the tiny, antagonistic glint in his eyes that I've come to know so well, practically begging me to start an argument.
His teeth come down hard on his bottom lip as my nails dig deeper into his shoulders.
"Screw you."
"You're already doing that, sweetheart."
I don't dare respond verbally, eyes cutting at the retort. I let him do most of the work, mind racing, heart pounding out an unhealthy rhythm as I try to keep pace. He doesn't seem too upset about it though, praising me every time I so much as tug on his hair.
What a novel concept—us working well together.
Before I know it, my body's convulsing in ecstasy, nails biting so hard into his skin by now that I know he'll have bloody marks for days.
The release is cathartic, insides seizing like jello. And by the time I've finished, I'm a puddle of liquid on the floor.
The sensation must trigger something in Dane because he suddenly curses in my ear, my back knocking harder into the wheel as he comes, arms still holding me steady, keeping me safe.
We fall into breaths, loud in the silence of the car, foreheads propped against each other. Ever so carefully, he pulls out, keeping his hands locked on my waist.
I can't speak again for another couple minutes, feeling my heart pounding inside my ears, brain racing to figure out what the hell we've just done.
Dane presses a soft kiss to my forehead, and it feels like my body is made of porcelain.
"Status?"
Fuck him. Fuck him really. Because who is he to be able to make me feel things like this? To turn me on so much that I feel like I might pass out to giving me sweet kisses and asking how I am? It's unfair. Who gave him the right?
So I respond the way I know best—by game. I tilt my head down, letting my lips brush lightly over his chin. "Fine. What about you?"
He closes his eyes at the question, the action, lips quirking up in a way that begs to ruin me.
"Fine too."
***
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