Page 99 of Executing Malice

I shoot the back of his head a glower as I slide my arms around his middle. My chest presses into his back. The soft material of his cargos rub my inner thighs and I’m too aware of the fact that my knees are wide around his hips. My puckerednipples poke through the thin fabric of my dress, nearly visible over the deep V of my top where it’s stretched low to cover my crotch.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

I’m desperately hoping it’s home. I’m essentially naked in plain view for the entire town to see. No matter how I try, either my tits are spilling free or my pussy is bared. There’s also the fact that I am leaking arousal all across his leather and I can feel it smearing.

When we push off, I’m not ready for the kick. The unexpected jolt has me scrambling to abandon my attempts at modesty to hold him tighter. The wind tugs and frees my hem, folding it up to expose everything to the cars behind us.

The mortification is horrifying.

And hot.

I never thought I had a humiliation kink, or that I was an exhibitionist, but there’s a freedom beneath the scorcher of my cheeks. A strange sense of confidence that keeps me from covering up when we reach the first red light.

Tentatively, I cast a glance back over my shoulder. Just to see who might be looking, but the street behind us is empty.

“I told you, your body is only for me,” Dante murmurs through the mic in my helmet.

“You can’t have known there wouldn’t be people on the road,” I counter.

“No, but I wouldn’t let them see anything.”

He doesn’t elaborate and I don’t push as the light flicks green and he takes a wide turn off Church Avenue, past the bell tower towards the main highway, but not onto it. Instead, he’s taking the deserted road along the perimeter, away from town and its prying eyes.

I relax, until he pulls off to the shoulder in the middle of nowhere. He cuts the engine and dislodges himself from my hold as he climbs off.

“What’s wrong?”

My idiot brain is thinking maybe we ran out of gas. Maybe he heard a weird noise. Maybe we have a flat tire.

None of those things seem to be the case when he drags me off and makes me stand by and watch him pop open the side compartment. My bags are shoved to one side until he closes his hand around a pink paper bag hidden at the bottom.

It’s moderately small. A little longer than his hand as he holds it and pries the top open.

I edge a step closer, neck craning to see, but it’s unnecessary when he unearths a tiny, beige saddle with two saddle horns.

Still not explaining anything, he snaps it into place over my section of the seat. It’s only then I realize what it is.

The silicone piece covers a small section, but it’s the twin bulbs protruding from the top that have my stomach flipping.

“You’re not serious,” I gasp.

Dante reaches into the crumpled bag and draws out a small, clear bottle of lube. It’s poured liberally over the penis shaped dick at the front, guarding the slightly smaller, rigid butt plug next to it. Neither look particularly threatening, but he can’t possibly mean for me to sit on them while we drive around.

He does. It becomes clear when he caps the lube, tosses it and the empty bag back into the compartment and reaches for me. I’m lifted over the seat now drenched in lubrication.

“I want you stretched and ready for when I put my dick in you,” he says, positioning me over the pieces.

“I’ve never tried anal,” I breathe, trembling as he aligns my pussy over the thick, silicone head.

“Yes, you have. You fucking love it.”

I want to ask if there’s anything we haven’t done in the past, but he’s pulling me down. He’s stretching my opening wider than I’ve ever ... wider than I remember ever having it. Despite being soft, there’s a stiffness to it that has me gritting my teeth. But it goes in. It stretches my walls and sits snug in place.

“Ride it,” he practically growls, moving to position himself behind me. His gloved hand plants between my shoulder blades and shoves me forward so he can have a clearview when I start to buck. “That’s a good girl. Get it nice and slippery. Lower.”

I can’t go lower without poking my butthole with the spear-shaped plug, but I guess that’s the point. He wants me to take it.