Page 83

Why the hell does that turn me on so bad? I love that he’s so into this when I’ve barely started that he had to pull off the road and is now giving my mouth his full attention.

Good thing his windows are tinted. Not that anyone would see me bobbing up and down on his length with the height of the truck and how fast the traffic is flying past us.

“Fuck, your mouth feels amazing,” he groans as he urges me to bob faster, to take him deeper.

The teeth of his zipper are scraping my chin and lips, and I want so badly to force his jeans lower so I can play with his balls.Guess I’ll just have to hit replay and add a little more fun when we get home.

“Fuck,” Brixton grits out. “I’m going to come down your throat.”

I hum my approval, ready to beg him for it. I love the way he tastes. I love the way all three of my men taste.

“Here it comes, baby,” he grits out, holding my head down as he thrusts up a few times, the piercings scraping against my tongue and clinking against the back of my teeth.

When his cock jerks, I’m ready and swallow down every drop he feeds me. Holy shit, I’ve missed this. All of this.

I might have used my body to make money over the years, but it was a means to an end. I don’t think I enjoyed a single man I was with through that time.

But this? The taste and feeling of Brix in my mouth, the feeling of power as he trembles, as his thighs clench under my hands, the way it feels as though I topped him from the bottom?

I’m high. Or drunk. Drunk on lust, on the power of making him lose control.

It isn’t until he clenches my hair tight and pulls my head up that I finally stop licking and sucking him, then lick my lips to make sure I didn’t miss any of his warm, masculine taste.

Still kneeling on the floorboard, I turn my eyes up to his face, only catching glimpses of his strong, square jaw, his long hair laying on his shoulders, the straight line of his nose as cars drive past.

But I swear I can feel his eyes burning into me, can feel the smolder of them as though we’re not done yet, even though we’ve both come tonight.

He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, and I instinctively open for him, tonguing the digit as though it was still his cock in my mouth.

“When we get home, I’m bending you over the first fucking surface I can find. I’m going to fuck you so deep and so hard you’ll feel me for days.”

My pussy flutters and I grow wetter as I nod. “Yes. Please,” I beg.

“Get back in your seat and buckle up,” he says as he puts the truck back into gear and hits the signal switch to get us back on the road.

I do as I’m told, quickly climbing into my seat and pulling my belt into place, but I can’t sit still the next fifteen minutes it takes him to get us home. The entire time, I’m squeezing my thighs together, periodically shifting them together for some friction as my own need skyrockets from his threat.

Nah. That was a promise, one I fully intend on forcing him to fulfill.

He hasn’t put the console back into place, so he stretches a long arm toward me and slides a hand up my thigh, running his fingers along the seam of my leggings right over my pussy before pulling his touch from me.

I swear this is the longest fifteen minutes of my life; the air of the cab is charged with so much sexual tension my panties are soaked. Shit, my leggings might very well be wet at this point.

Brixton pulls the truck into his spot once the garage door rumbles up, but he doesn’t bother waiting for the door to lower behind us before he’s shoving from his seat and rounding the truck, his long legs eating the space in mere seconds.

My door is yanked open just as I release my seatbelt and his hands are urgent as they jerk and pull at my leggings until I hear the seams begin to tear.

I can’t find it in me to give a shit that he’s ruining my pants or that anyone, including staff or Kato’s guards, could easily walk in here and see as Brixton shoves my legs apart the second myleggings are out of the way, yanks my panties to the side and begins to lick and suck my pussy.

I’m barely on the edge of the seat, half my ass hanging off while I hang onto the bar over my head to keep from falling forward and toppling us both to the ground.

He doesn’t eat me until I come. Apparently, he only wants a taste because he straightens, lifts me in his arms, then impales me on his dick as I wrap my legs around his waist.

He walks forward and fucks into me with my back pressed against the cold metal of the bed of his truck.

Then he backs up, swings my door shut and starts walking again. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life when it feels as though he’s dropping me backward, but he simply lays me on top of the hood of one of the other cars, keeping my legs over his shoulders as he fucks into me hard and deep, just like he promised.

Except he promised to bend me over something.