Page 26 of Mark & Don't Tell

Alma says she’s tired, and Carlos offers to take her home. One by one, everyone else gets up from the table. Alejandro goes to the back porch with Henry and Brock to smoke a cigar, and Letti and Nico deal with the dishes, leaving me and Vic alone in the dining room.

He glances at me, fingers flexing on my thigh. This can’t happen. It’s bad enough we’ve already fucked, but doing it again? Neither of us needs that sort of complication.

“Little doe,” he whispers, but it’s full of command, almost like he knows what I’m thinking.

I quickly get up and make some lame excuse to leave, stopping to give Letti a hug and say goodbye to Nico. I don’t bother with my other dads, because all I can think of is getting as far away from Vic as possible before I do something stupid. My body is keenly aware of him trailing after me. He mentions something about needing to meet a client tonight. I slip on my heeled boots as he says his goodbyes, scrambling to escape before he gets too close.

I can’t think straight when he’s around.

The sky is dark when I get out of the garage, but the spotlight dimly illuminates the cars and path. I suck in the fresh air, trying to steady my fluttering heart as I all but run to my car. I make it all the way around the fancy truck before Vic catches me by the waist, pinning my front against the driver’s side of the truck and pressing into me from behind. Heart fluttering and pulse racing, I gasp as he lays his hard body against mine. My cheek rests against the driver’s window, and I catch my reflection in the side mirror, lips parted, cheeks flushed, eyes hooded.

There’s a row of tall hedges at our backs, and with the night and the deeply tinted windows, we’re hidden from view. No one can see us.

I’m totally fucked.

Shivers race down my spine as one of his palms slides over my lower stomach. “You should know better than to run from me,” he growls.

“Vic,” I say, voice strained as he quickly undoes the button of my jeans. “We can’t.”

He releases a dark chuckle. “That’s not the safe word,” he says. “You remember it?”

I bite my lip and nod.

A pleased sound rumbles in his chest, and his hand slips into my pants, smoothing over my lacy thong as he grinds his erection into my ass.

Holy shit.

That’s all for me?

Yes, please.

I rock back against his thick length as he cups my pussy.

“I’ve been dreaming about this cunt,” he whispers into my ear, shoving aside my thong and groaning as he runs his fingers through me. “So wet already for me?”

My pants fog up the side mirror. “What if they catch us?”

“They won’t,” he says, sounding so confident.

I don’t know why, but I trust him, or maybe I’m as shameless as him, not caring if we’re caught, especially not giving a damn when his fingers expertly tease over my clit. I whimper, and he moves his free hand to cover my mouth, pressing his palm against my lips as he toys with me.

“Those sounds will get you in trouble,” he warns. “But you like trouble, don’t you, little doe?” Pushing two thick fingers inside of me, he finger fucks me and teases my clit with his thumb until my legs are trembling and my moans are stifled by his hand on my mouth. “Come on, baby, let me hear those pretty screams,” he murmurs into my ear as he increases his tempo, thrusting harder and moving his thumb in tight, steady circles over my clit, not even giving me a moment to catch my breath as he pushes me over the edge.

My cry is muffled against his palm. Vic chuckles darkly, using his mouth to push the fabric covering my neck down, so he can suck on one of the hickeys he left last night. He teases his fingers in and out of me before slowly dragging his hand out of my pants, painting a trail of cum up my stomach.

“You might be my new favorite addiction,” he confesses against my neck.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I say, trying to be the voice of reason, but I don’t say the safe word, because I’m loving every second of this. The thrill of getting caught. The way adrenaline courses through me as he claims me out in the open.

He spins me around and yanks my wrists above my head, slamming his lips to meet mine. Vic kisses me like he wants to punish me for even suggesting we stop, stealing my air and my sanity until I’m shaking beneath him and at his mercy. Breaking the kiss, he runs his lips down my jaw, tugging my turtleneck aside, so he can find his way back to my neck, inhaling as he goes. “You smell so good,” he groans against my skin.

I shudder, wondering what he’d think of my true scent if he ever gets the chance to smell it. “Vic,” I say, searching for reason, trying to remember why this is a bad idea.

“One more minute,” he says. “Let me hold you for one more minute.”

And how can I deny him that when he gave me an orgasm? How can I deny him when it feels so good to be in his arms, to be controlled by him?

“Okay.”

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