Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
As the door closes and the driver settles in up front, I can feel her presence. Smell her skin… her shampoo… her pussy. The city moves around us, the hum of traffic and distant horns, but it’s like everything outside the car is just a blur.
My eyes flick to her hands resting on her lap, her fingers tapping lightly like she’s nervous. The temptation gnaws at me—if only she’d worn a dress.
She shifts beside me, and our eyes meet. There’s a look there—curiosity, maybe even a challenge. It’s like she knows she’s driving me crazy.
I lean in, just a little, my voice low. “You know, you’re making this really hard.”
Her lips twitch like she’s holding back a smile. “Am I?” she says, her tone playful, but there’s something else there, something that makes my pulse quicken.
I glance up at the driver, feeling the heat rise in my chest. The tension is building, and I can’t ignore it. I’m tired of pretending I can wait.
“You have no idea,” I mutter, shifting closer until our knees touch. My hand inches toward hers. She doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she looks at me, her eyes wide and questioning.
I lean in, the scent of her filling my senses. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold back,” I whisper, feeling the thrill of the moment, the urgency, the need to forget everything else and just take her.
She glances at the driver, then back at me, and there’s a flicker of hesitation. “Here?” she asks, her voice barely audible.
“Why not?” I reply, and the thrill spikes. We both know it’s risky, that the driver is right there, but it’s exactly that—the closeness, the fact that we’re supposed to hold back—that makes me want to break all the rules.
I slide my hand up her thigh, feeling her muscles tense, the hesitation in the way she leans back against the seat. Her eyes flicker to the front where the driver sits, and I can see the conflict there, the reluctance.
“We’re not alone,” she whispers, her voice tight. “The driver—he’ll know. This isn’t private.”
I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. “It’s called privacy glass. He won’t see or hear anything.” I press a button and the partition goes up. “There. It’s just us now,” I murmur, my fingers tracing up her inner thigh. “No one else.”
She bites her lip, eyes searching mine. “This still feels…” Her voice trails off, and I can tell she’s wavering, the battle between her desire and her reservations playing out in her head.
“Trust me,” I say, and kiss her, slow and deep, coaxing her into the moment. Her hands grip my shoulders, and I feel her start to respond, her mouth opening and her body melting into mine as she finally lets go.
The heat between us ignites, and I pull her fully onto my lap, feeling her settle against me. She hesitates for no more than a heartbeat, then her hands reach for my shirt, her fingers tugging, desperate.
“Ivan…” she whispers, and I can feel the urgency in her voice too. It’s enough to drive me over the edge.
I grab her T-shirt, yanking it off her shoulders. It lands on the seat beside us.
I pause for a moment to take in the sight of her. I squeeze her breasts gently, feeling the weight of them.. Under her lacy bra, her nipples harden, and I circle my thumbs around them, watching her eyes flutter shut as a shiver runs through her. She’s so responsive, so open, and it drives me wild. It’s as if every touch, every movement, brings her closer to me, and I can’t help but want more.
I lean down, kissing the swell of her breast, my lips grazing her skin as I trail kisses, savoring the way she trembles beneath me. I take my time, dragging it out, wanting to memorize every reaction, every soft sound that escapes her lips. I pull her bra cup down and suck a nipple into my mouth, feeling it tighten against my tongue. She gasps, her back arching, pressing herself closer.
My hands roam her body, gripping her waist, pulling her in. I can feel the urgency in the way she moves. Her hips shift against me. I pull back slightly and my eyes lock on hers. There’s something intense there, something that matches the fire burning in me.
She whispers my name again, and I feel her hands slide down to my shirt, tugging it up. Her touch is eager, it makes my pulse quicken. I watch her as she pulls my shirt tails out. She grinds against me, her jeans tight and rough against the fabric of my pants. I can barely hold back. My fingers trail up her back, and I reach for the clasp of her bra, undoing it. It snaps away, and I watch, mesmerized, as she pulls it off, tossing it aside.