Page 83 of Under Pressure

My bra is a pathetic boundary between us. It’s damp from where he’s been sucking on it, and even with the thick padding, I can feel every stroke of his tongue like there’s nothing between us.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He repeats the motion and drops a hand to my ass, using the firm hold to guide me forward again. My bra unsnaps, and in a haze, I feel him lifting it out of the way. The air is muggy, thick with tension and the heat from our bodies, yet it’s cool against my beaded nipples. They pull tighter, and I suck in a sharp inhale when he flicks his tongue against one and then blows a steady stream of air across it.

My eyes close. “Do that again.”

He does, repeating the motion on both of my nipples. “What else do you like?”

“Everything.”

“I doubt that, Quinny. You have things you like more than others. Tell me,” he coaxes, then pulls my right bud into his mouth, sucking firmly.

Pushing into his mouth, I scrape my nails across his scalp. “You can be rougher with them.”

His teeth come back into play, and I moan the instant they gently bite down. I rock my hips in a constant back-and-forth motion, feeling him get impossibly thicker beneath me. Eventhrough our jeans, I can feel how big he is, and that does little to calm the raging need that I’m drowning in.

“Like that,” I confirm on a stuttered exhale.

My hands wander as he does what I want, only stopping long enough to swap nipples. His chest is a piece of art, and I don’t waste the opportunity to feel it again. I push his shirt up out of the way and drag my fingers across his muscles, taking note of every ridge and indent, the way they tense and then release. He’s breathing heavily like me. I press my palm flat to the space between his pectorals and try to feel his heart thumping.

“Do you feel it?”

I keep my cheek to his temple, not trusting myself not to break down and ask him to fuck me right here in the back seat if I look at him right now.

“What?”

“How fast my heart is beating.” Beck takes my hand from its place on his chest and brings it higher. My knuckles find his neck and dig in until I can feel his pulse thrashing against them. “It’s like that every time you’re near me.”

I relax my fingers and palm his throat, feeling the strong way it pulls when he swallows. Then, I finally meet his stare. My own heart stills before racing forward, recognizing that soft look in his eyes and the way it threatens to break me apart piece by piece, only to glue me back together the way I should be. The way I wish I were.

It’s too much. Too intense and knowing, and I move before the moment can grow out of control. Ripping my gaze away, I push a hand against the window and lift myself just enough that I can scoot down his thighs an inch. With more room between us, it’s easy for me to unzip his jeans.

The back windows are fogged, and there’s a streak across ours that’s unmistakably my handprint. If anyone drives by, they’ll know someone’s in here and what exactly it is we’redoing. It’s pretty obvious to me that I don’t care if we get caught. Not when this is feeling so good.

“Jesus, I’ll come too fast if you touch me, Quinn,” he warns but makes no move to stop me.

“So you can give me pleasure, but I can’t do the same for you?”

Regardless of the question, I’ve already unzipped his jeans. I curl my fingers into the waistband before pulling them free and palming his crotch instead. His hissed breath kisses my forehead. My clit has its own heartbeat now, pulsing impatiently as I explore him, teasing just enough to have him gripping my hips tightly.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. Go ahead, baby. I want nothing more than to feel your hand around me. But the last thing I want is to embarrass myself here.”

Smoothing my palm down his cock, I apply more pressure near the base and flick my eyes up to watch his face tighten. Tongue travelling across his plush bottom lip, he stares me down and hitches a brow in a silent dare. His good-boy, happy-go-lucky attitude is slipping, revealing the filthy-mouthed heathen that I saw in my bedroom yesterday.

I shiver, the hair on my arms standing up in anticipation.

“I won’t hold it against you,” I tease, squeezing him through his jeans.

His erection kicks beneath my grip, and I stare down at the sight of my hand on him. Even with my fingers spread as wide as possible, I can’t cover the entire bulge.

“Don’t tease now. You want to touch me, Quinn? Then take my cock out and do it.”

I don’t need more encouragement. My fingers move quickly, slipping beneath his waistband and tugging as he lifts his hips for me. A breath later, his dick is springing free, slapping his lower stomach. A smear of precum glistens on the tip and sticks to his abs before another drips down the side of the thick, curved shaft.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a dick in person, and never one this big. I’m completely out of my depth here, but like hell am I going to let him know that I’m blanking on the best way to give a hand job. Or does he want me to blow him? Fuck, I would if he asked. I’ve never been one for putting my mouth on a guy before, but after all, it would be only fair, considering he ate me out for what felt like hours and didn’t complain once.

He didn’t even say anything about me returning the favour either. Not orally or in any other way. All he seemed to care about was getting me off and making me feel good. And now, I’m contemplating doing it whether he asks me to or not.

I’m forced to look away from his groin when he pinches my chin and tips my face until our eyes meet. The feral gleam I see encourages me to finally touch him. It’s just a soft, teasing stroke of my finger at first, but all too soon, I’m the one needing more.