Page 3 of Five Brothers

He doesn’t reply.

Reaching under my skirt, he peels my panties down my legs and over my shoes, staring at my naked skin. “Oh God, you are a pretty little bitch.”

Pushing up my shirt, he comes down, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth as he strokes me between the legs with one of his hands.

“Mmm,” he groans.

I grip his wrist under my skirt with both hands, trying to take his hand out from between my legs, but his muscles flex underneath my fingers, holding tight. Flicking my nipple with his tongue, he moves to the other breast, and I shove at his chest, whimpering, but he pays me no mind as he takes his pleasure.

Like he doesn’t see me.

Like I’m just here for fun.

He pinches my nipple between his teeth, and a shock shoots through my stomach to down between my thighs. I release him and drag my fingers up my stomach to the waist of my skirt.

“Yeah, your wet little cunt is ready for me, isn’t it?” he coos.

Yeah, baby.

I clutch the hilt of the knife hidden in my skirt and raise my arm, pressing the blade to his neck.

He stops.

I feel my smile in my fucking throat.

His hot breath hits faster against my skin as he hovers over my breast, and I lift my head, feeling like I’m floating as I get into his face.

“Get off me.”

God, how he just stopped. That was awesome.

I could do whatever I wanted to him right now.

Slowly, he sits back in his seat, and I follow, keeping the blade at his neck as I slide my leg over his thighs.

Straddling him, I settle in his lap. “Put your hands on the roof,” I order.

He raises his arms, still barely breathing as he places his palms above his head.

The steering wheel presses into my back, and I lean into him, the hard flesh of my nipples pressing through my shirt, against his warm chest.

He holds his breath as I slip my free hand down, digging in his pocket. I pull out a few folded bills and hold them up, smiling a little before dropping them inside my shirt pocket.

I press the blade harder. “Hands behind your head.”

He pierces me with his stare but does what he’s told.

I could probably escape right now. He might not grab for me. Or try to take away my weapon. A guy like him—good-looking and used to having whoever he wants—probably thinks I’m not worth any more trouble.

I could leave.

But I don’t.

I shift, rolling so slowly over the bulge in his jeans and sliding my hand up his chest.

“On second thought,” I taunt, rising to my knees so the breast poking through my shirt is level with his mouth. “You are built for fun, aren’t you?”

I press myself into his mouth, and he seizes the invitation, nuzzling my collared shirt off my shoulder, baring a breast. He sucks it into his mouth. His hot tongue nibbles and teases so soft, and I grip the back of his neck, holding him to me to make sure he doesn’t stop.

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