Page 98 of Beautifully Ruined

I’m so turned on my thighs are wet, and my nipples ache.

Every step I take sets me spinning, and I think I’d fly off into space except for that grounding force behind me.

Cade.

The humiliation throbs through me, now, as hard as the sexual beat that starts in my clit.

Exposed. On display.

Nothing more than a thing to be ogled.

And my mind fractures, coming back together as every single step is felt completely. Each rub of slick skin against slick skin of my thighs.

The coolness in the breeze as it lifts the strands of hair around my face, kisses my nipples, and somehow making them harder, of the effect on my pussy and thighs.

It should make me uncomfortable as I walk.

And it does. But in a way that feeds into desire, that makes the beat of need in me deeper, and every single part listens for the step of Cade behind me.

I don’t hear him.

But I know he’s there.

In every fiber I feel him.

His presence surrounds me, kisses me, taunts.

Each and every step is torture, and I long for the breeze to pick up so it cools me down or touches me more. I’m not sure. All I know is I’m on fire. I burn.

I’m so aroused I’m half shocked I don’t melt or come on the spot.

Inside, my body spasms a little, sending flickers of pleasure that don’t quite do the job.

And I want someone to finger me, to plunge into me, deep, to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe.

I want a mouth on my breasts, biting, sucking. I want hands. Everywhere.

And I want his cock.

The walk takes forever. A car slows on the street.

An old man walks toward me, slowing, his eyes wide as he feasts on my breasts and pussy.

“Is she real?” he slurs to Cade or the universe.

And my entire being shimmers and throbs, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s relief that he’s drunk and probably won’t remember, or if I’m disappointed.

Then it hits me.

It doesn’t matter.

It’s the idea of him seeing me that’s hot, the fact he saw me is also excruciatingly embarrassing, and the two of them clash to bloom into a storm of eroticism I’m not sure I can even take it.

“Bad, dirty girl,” Cade murmurs, much closer than I thought. “Letting him ogle you. Did you slow down then, give him a show?”

I go to answer him, but nothing but a small, needful sound comes out.

“I bet you wanted to. So fucking filthy.”