Page 85 of Pink Ink

If I were a betting man, I’d be giving myself a hundred dollars for being right, yet again.

“So kind of you to extend an invitation to me. Please, lead the way.” I motion toward the station at the end of the block, in front of the hideous modern monstrosity of a law school building.

Naturally, because Reyna insists on gripping on to the last vestiges of her stubbornness, she doesn’t move.

“I’m barely holding myself back from bending you over the nearest bench so I can taste your sweet cunt again. So I suggest we start heading off before I decide I need to paint your pretty skin with my come.”

She flushes bright pink, eyes darting around as she leans in to whisper, “You can’t say that.”

“Which part? That I want to see your pussy dripping for me again, or that I want you bent over and coming on my cock.”

“Both,”she hisses as her chest rises and falls faster.

I narrow my eyes at her when she puts an extra three feet of space between us. “I told you how to prevent either from happening. What’s the address?”

Her glare burns into me like she can make me disappear if she thinks hard enough. After a quick stare-off, she gives up on attempting to perform miracles and tells me the address I already know before spinning on her heel to storm down the street.

I chuckle and follow along. My amusement quickly dies when we both put a respectable amount of space between us and I’m left glaring at the sidewalk and every person in our general vicinity. I need to touch her. It’s not a want, or a mere desire. It’s a physical necessity that every cell in my body screams for. The distance isn’t good enough for me. I’m not sure how long I can withstand it, or what happens next. She doesn’t know who I am or about the engagement ring sitting at the bottom of my office drawer. Until then the truth will always stand between us.

That’s what today is about. I have to know whether her eyes crinkle with mortification at the truth. I need to know that shesees me.

The need to touch her doesn’t disappear when we climb down the steps or when I guide her to an empty section of the subway at the back of the car where the seats are empty at our back and front, with no one on the opposite row. A single person sits at the other end, too far to hear us and too invested with their phone to pay us any attention. We’re free in our corner to share every forbidden breath before the sky falls.

Reyna’s coat parts when she sits, revealing the harness strapped around her waist, just above her lacy maroon miniskirt, and my mind takes the image of her in nothing but the leather, and itrunswith it. The second the door slides shut, my hand slides beneath her coat and up her thighs.

Bloody hell, I’ve missed her legs.

Reyna clamps her knees together on pure reflex, squeezing my hand. The blush from earlier crawls up her neck and reddens her cheeks like it did the afternoon she fucked her fingers on my couch, and,Christ, if it doesn’t make my cock thicken.

“Maddox?” My name comes out rasped as she grips my forearm and nods pointedly at the stranger at the other end of the car.

I lean down until my lips are inches away from her ear. “There’s no one around, Miss Sinaga,” I whisper slowly, skating my hand up her inner thigh beneath her skirt.

She squirms on her coat that protects her from the seat, and her breaths turn shuddering when she sees the bulge in my pants… “Maddox,” she whispers. I can taste her aching desire in the two syllables.

“Do you see what you do to me, love?” I grunt. Precome leaks from my cock under her attention.

The edge of my finger presses against her pussy, and she gasps, swinging her wide brown eyes back up at me. I can picture her trapped beneath my weight, staring up at me with her lips parted on a silent gasp as her skin pinks with her arousal.

I rub her clit in slow circles. Reyna’s warmth seeps through the material of her tights and underwear, and I learn it’s possible to be jealous of fabric just because it’s touching her skin.

“Someone could come in and see us.” She glances at the door behind us that leads into the other car. Turns more frantic when the subway slows to a stop at the next station, but no one walks in or out.

“Mr. Shaw.”It’s one part whine, and another part worry. But her hips don’t share the same concern, tilting ever so slightly so I’d meet her partway, pressing my knuckles against her sex.

“I like it when you call me that,” I murmur, increasing the pressure. Her breath catches, eyelashes fluttering. The doors slide closed, and the wheels squeal against the tracks before it picks up speed again. “Tell me that your cunt is wet and needy for me.”

“You’re being insufferable.” It’s hard to make out any hint of worry when her words are moaned out.

“If I recall correctly, you were begging me not to stop what my tongue was doing. You rather enjoy it when I’m insufferable.” I grin, gliding my fingers over her slit to make her shudder.

The lights flicker as we travel between tunnels.

She huffs in frustration—the pent-up kind—when I stop to slide my hand back down her thigh. “People would find this inappropriate, Mr. Shaw.” Her irritation swiftly morphs into barely restrained lust when I go back to rubbing her clit. She melts against my side.

“Yeah?” I muse, moving my hand out from beneath her skirt to curl my fingers beneath her harness and yank her closer to me. “What’s inappropriate is you wearing that to class without considering that I’d be hard the entire time, imagining what it’d be like to grip on to the leather as I fuck you against a wall.”

I spread her thighs apart and press the heel of my palm against her pussy. Her body jolts, and I swear I can smell her arousal as I grab one of her knees to keep her legs parted for me.