Page 58 of City of Wind and Lies

"No," I breathe. "You said not to."

He chuckles lowly. "So, you decide to follow instructions now, but not when I'm with clients?"

"You still owe me a punishment for that," I point out, knowing full well I'm poking the beast.

His grip tightens, my heart pounding in my chest, and right when I think I'm going to get his fingers where I so desperately want them, he withdraws his hand.

"What are you doing?" I ask as Bowie hits the brakes, downshifting and taking a hard left. He whips the car into a dimly lit parking lot and kills the engine.

"Punishing you," he growls, undoing his seatbelt and then mine.

His eyes darken, mouth curving into a smirk as he gathers my hands, pinning my wrists above my head. "Wha-" I start, but his lips silence mine as he steals my words with rough kisses.

The seat reclines as our mouths slide together, tongues tangling in a battle for dominance that I don't even want to win. Breaking the kiss, his free hand twists the seatbelt around my wrists and the headrest, tethering them in place.

My breath catches and heat licks up my spine as he towers above me. Aside from using his hands, Bowie's never restrained me before- and while I know he won't hurt me, hurt me, it doesn't stop the fissure of fear from tearing inside me.

"Cazzo," he whispers, licking his lips as he rucks up my dress, exposing my bare pussy to the cool air.

Reaching up, his calloused palm tugs at the black lycra, effectively putting my breasts on full display right as I spot someone passing by in my peripheral.

"Bowie!" I squirm, but the polyester seatbelt only digs deeper into my skin, seemingly getting tighter the more I pull.

"Stop moving, Passerotta. You'll only hurt yourself."

My body stills. "But someone could see me."

A devilish grin splits his face as his fingers trace my wet pussy. "Someone could have seen what you sent me today." He slips a finger inside, slowly rubbing my clit with the pad of his thumb.

"But," I start to protest, but it turns to a moan as he increases his pressure and leans forward to suck my pebbled nipple into his mouth.

I cry out, my back arching from the seat as he bites down and pinches my clit at the same time.

"Don't worry," he murmurs, tracing his tongue up the hollow between my breasts. "You're mine." His warm breath whisps across my wet skin, sending chills coursing through me. "Nobody would dare look at you, and if they did, you'd be the last thing they saw."

My breath shudders as he plunges a thick digit inside me and, like the desperate and needy bitch I am, I buck my hips, chasing his touch. Ever the dichotomy, he trails soft kisses across my chest as his fingers pump in and out of me at a rugged pace. My mind and body wage war on how to respond to the tortuous brand of pleasure Bowie seems to have trademarked.

I can feel my orgasm building, my mouth hinging open with a rapacious moan as I reach my precipice, and right when I'm about to fall over the edge, he stops.

He's done this before, and I know if I just wait a little longer, he'll give me what I want.

As if reading my mind, he thrusts two fingers back inside me, thumb strumming my clit. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as his other hand squeezes my boob and he nips at my collarbone. The coil in my belly winds tightly as he works me back toward finding my release, and with the first flutter of my inner walls, he stops, again.

I huff out in annoyance, leveling him with a glare.

Unaffected, he raises his fingers to his mouth, humming in approval as he sucks on them.

Patience was not a virtue bestowed upon me. I've always had a bit of an issue with impulse control, especially when it comes to something I crave. And lately, Bowie is all I crave. I draw in a deep breath, working to still my racing heart. I wait for him to release me from my binds, sink into me and impale me on the hard length that's tenting his slacks, but he doesn’t.

"How torturous is it," he whispers as he leans over, kissing up my jaw, teeth raking on my earlobe. “To be tempted by something so sweet, but forced to watch as it remains out of reach."

He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face towards his. "That's what you did to me today, Wren."

I swallow thickly, recognizing that white-hot flame of lust searing his features. A sheen of sweat covers my body, and with a featherlight touch, his fingers walk down my body. The moment they pinch my clit, my body arches up like a woman possessed. I mewl with every ministration, grinding myself harder against his palm as his fingers curl deep inside me.

The waves of the orgasm build quicker than ever, and I clamp my thighs around his wrist in a greedy attempt to get the release I desire.

I'm on the brink of insanity when he stills, shifting back in his seat, leaving me gasping and trembling.

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