Page 39 of Executing Malice (Jefferson Rejects #4)

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 puckered nipples 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 clear view 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.

“Hurry before someone drives by and sees your wet cunt,” he taunts, but rather than let me comply, he’s prodding my back channel with two ungloved fingers.

He circles the puckered hole, his digits slippery and cold. He doesn’t seem to give a shit about getting caught when he eases them past my tight ring.

“Dante...” I gasp, head falling forward at the initial burn.

“Ride,” he hisses, keeping still and letting me impale myself.

On him.

On the dildo.

To take my time and adjust as tiny cobwebs of pain shatter through me. As my muscles tense and attempt to dislodge the invader.

Maybe it’s the thrill of possibly getting caught, or just how badly this man makes me horny, but I am determined to take him.

To make him proud. I’m even getting the hang of it when he unexpectedly withdraws.

The loss makes me shudder, but it’s only for a second when he draws me the rest of the way to take the plug .

It’s not nearly as thick as his fingers, but the ridges take me by surprise.

I can’t be sure if I like them or not when his hands slip around my middle and drift up to cup my breasts.

His chest settles against my back and I’m made to lean into him as he drags my collar down and spills me out into the dwindling evening.

“Just like this,” he drawls into my ear. “Let everyone see your pretty, pierced nipples.”

My natural instinct is to tell him he’s fucking insane, but I remember his words from earlier.

“I wouldn’t let them see anything. ”

So, I relent.

I don’t fix my top but stay the way he’s instructed and earn the sweep of his thumbs over the tips.

“Ready for your next surprise?”

I tip my head back, slightly awkward with the helmets between us. “How many are there?”

“That’s none of your business.” He bumps his visor lightly against mine. “You only need to enjoy them.”

He can’t see my grin, but it pulls on my mouth as he draws away. He circles back to the front and turns the throttle.

When the engine roars back to life, the vibration goes straight into the plugs and I become aware of the tiny, silicone hook at the front, curved point positioned right over my clit .

“Fuck!” I wheeze as it strums my switch. “Dante...”

“That’s not even the best part,” he taunts.

I don’t get the chance to ask when he reaches into one of his million pockets and draws out a tiny, plastic disc.

He clicks it.

The vibration nearly sends me off the toy.

Its sheer intensity slams through me with a force that has my core throbbing.

The hook at my clit flicks over my piercing, amplifying that sweet cruelty that has my back arching.

My thighs clench instinctively, pressing against the seat as I ride the toy like I’m getting paid while he watches me.

Stroking his cock through the front of his pants.

“Greedy little whore,” he breathes, chest rising and falling as rapidly as my hips. “You like that, don’t you?”

He flicks his thumb over the remote and the hum increases. The buzz sends my head back and I choke on a wail.

“Don’t cum, little whore. I’m not done with you.”

I barely hear him.

I don’t care about anything, except the swirling inferno of liquid heat flooding my core. The weight of the plug in my ass. The pressure of both, combined with that flicker at the front.

“Once ... please, just one time,” I beg.

His fingers lock around my throat in warning. “I said no.”

Without another word, he climbs up in front of me and I have no choice but to hold on .

The engine devours the road. Every gear shift, every uneven dirt path rattles through the seat and straight through my soul.

My breath comes in strangled gasps as the custom rig keeps me at its owner’s mercy.

The world blurs past us, but all I can focus on is the fullness inside me, the constant invasion with every bump.

My nails bite into his shirt, twisting and anchoring me while he does everything in his power to torment me.

“Clench tighter, little whore. The road’s about to get rough.”

I bury my face into his shoulder, muffling a moan as the seat jolts. As I’m lifted by momentum and pulled down hard by gravity. I cry out, my cunt seizing so hard, I swear, I’m about to snap the toy.

By the time we finally slow, I’m drenched with sweat and arousal. My thighs are trembling. I’m delirious and so sensitive I’m ready to cry. But there is no chance given when I realize where he’s headed.

The Starlight drive-in.

Crowded. Packed with a glittery sea of shiny metal and dark silhouettes of people camping along the lawn. All barely illuminated by the pale cast of filmy light from the projector mounted high against the navy sky.

“Dante... ”

I start to cover myself. My fist twists up into my top, prepared to drag it up.

He stops me.

“No one can see.”

I get that he’s pulled into the shadows along the far, back edges, but it would only take one person to glance over...

Dante swings off the bike and turns. His big hands unlatch his helmet.

Then mine. Both are set on the ground a few feet away.

He leaves me impaled and mortified while he unearths a blanket from the storage and tosses it down on the grass.

But rather than tell me to climb off, he steps up behind me. His hands settle on my waist.

He forces me down. Forces me to take every inch. So deep I wail and buck.

“Quiet,” he drawls. “We only just got here and it’s a double feature.”

I have no idea what’s playing. Even as the opening credits roll up across the screen, I am only aware of the hands moving and guiding me over the toy. The mouth at my neck. The chest resting flush against my back.

“Stop. Please.”