Page 105 of City of Wind and Lies

We've barely merged onto the highway when Wren's twisting in her seat and popping the button on my jeans.

"What're you doing?" I rasp as she wraps her lithe fingers around my half-hard cock and starts to stroke it.

She shrugs a shoulder and tightens her grip, and I let out a groan as she rolls her thumb over my tip, smearing the bead of precum over the head. Leaning over the center console, she drags her tongue up the full length of my shaft.

"Shit," I hiss as she sucks me into her mouth.

As she starts to bob up and down, I thread my hand into her blonde locks, cupping the base of her skull.

Wren pops up, spit stringing from her chin as she slaps my hand away. "I'm running point on this one, hands on the wheel or I'm hanging with Drea tonight."

It's an empty threat- she's just as eager for a night alone as I am- but I'll willingly play her game. There isn't a fucking thing I wouldn't do for her.

Moving my hand back to the wheel, I curl my fingers around the leather as Wren swallows me whole. Her tongue swirls around each barbell as she suctions her cheeks. Her hand chases her mouth, working every last inch of my cock in perfect tandem. I slap my palm against the steering wheel as the familiar tingle starts at the base of my spine, my stomach knotting as my orgasm builds. My quads flex and just as I'm about to come, Wren breaks contact and leans back in her seat, wiping her chin.

What in the actual fuck.

"Wren?" I chide.

"Hmm?"

With one hand, I gesture to my fully hard dick on display and raise my brows.

"Oh, you want me to keep going?" she muses coyly, circling my length and starting to pump. "Like this?"

I stifle a moan as she leans over, her mouth pulling me in as she bobs in my lap. It feels so good the way she teases the piercings and traces the tip. Wren gives head like a damn pro, and it doesn't take long before my balls are tightening once more. But then she stops, tilting her face up at me. She bats her lashes, slowly sliding up my dick, and places a chaste kiss to the head. "Looks like we're home."

She tucks my painfully hard cock back into my boxer-briefs and buttons my jeans as I turn into the parking garage. My heart pulses in my ears, the muscle in my jaw tensing as realization slams into me. The little minx fucking edged me on purpose.

Shifting the Escalade into park, I shove open my door, boots thudding against the concrete as I march to her side. She's sliding out of her seat, a sly smile playing at her lips as she eyes me. "Uh-oh, am I in trouble?"

"Damn fucking straight you are," I huff, bending at the waist and looping an arm around her thighs as I hoist her over my shoulder.

Her laughter reverberates through the garage as I stride towards the elevator. "You think you're funny, don't you, Passerotta?" I murmur as I swipe my key and punch the button for the penthouse level.

"No," she says, voice still bubbly with laughter. "Just making sure I got what I wanted."

THWACK!

She shrieks as my palm splays against her round ass, rubbing circles over the offended area.

It's no secret Wren likes it rough in the bedroom, and I love being the one she surrenders control to. Ever since that first night in my office, the chemistry between us has always been so strong, not even Walter White would know what to do with it. I can't believe I ever tried to push her away. Everything about her is all consuming, like hellfire raining down on earth. And I'd happily stoke the flames to keep her burning brighter.

The elevator dings, doors opening to our floor and I waste no time stalking down the hall and tossing her onto the bed.

"Strip," I command, toeing off my boots and pulling at the suspenders.

Her baby blues swirl with lust as she unlaces the black corset and tugs the dress off over her head. She works off her boots as I shed the flannel and denim, grabbing one of the suspenders from the floor.

"Sit on your knees, arms behind your back."

She does as she's told, and I snap the suspender against her ass cheek, eliciting a salacious cry. It's music to my ears, and I plan to have her hoarse and unable to walk by the time the night’s over. I press a kiss to the raised pink flesh before fisting my cock and stepping back.

This position has her back arching, breasts pushing forward. Stroking my chin, I take a moment to admire the way Wren's perfect tits rise and fall with each tremor of breath, and fuck me if the the sight doesn't cause a visceral reaction.

The mattress dips as I crawl behind her, dragging my tongue up the slender column of her neck and nipping at her earlobe. "Tell me what you want, Passerotta," I purr.

"Fuck me, Bowie, " her voice trembles with desire. "Hard."

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