Page 48 of Killer Kiss

“Take your panties off.”

Bec tittered something in the background, but Augie wasn’t looking at her. He was staring right at my car.

He had to know it was mine. Though it fit in just fine in Providence, it stuck out like a sore thumb in Saint View.

I knew he couldn’t see inside. My windows were tinted almost black, which made seeing in impossible. I was safe from view in here.

Which was probably why I did the stupidest thing I’d ever done.

I took my panties off.

After all, I was sure that command was for me. Why else would he say it, standing there, staring at me instead of the woman he had inside?

“Are they off?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” Bec moaned.

I nearly vomited in my mouth. I was really going to need the woman to shut up.

Like he was thinking the same thing, he stopped asking questions and started making demands instead. “Spread your legs and slide your hand down your body.”

Did I want to obey his commands? No. This was reckless. But the pulse between my legs and the way he stood there at that window gave me no other option. I hit the button on the side of my seat so I could tilt my chair back a bit, giving me better access, but made sure it didn’t drop so low I couldn’t see him.

I needed to see him. I hated that he was backlit so I couldn’t see the details of his face.

But his voice was enough. It was deep and raspy. Growly and demanding. I slid my hand over the bare skin of my mound, my nerve endings awakening at the touch.

“Rub your clit. Slow. So fucking slow.”

I pressed a finger to the little bundle of nerves that was yearning to be touched. The relief was almost instant and yet not nearly enough to be satisfying. I wanted more. If I’d been alone I would have gone hard and fast, just wanting to get to the finish line so I could go on with the rest of my evening. But I moved as slowly as Augie had commanded, teasing the bud to life with an agonizing touch that left me breathless and desperate for more.

“Slide one finger lower. Soak it inside yourself.”

My head dropped back on the headrest. Fuck, I was wet. I slid my finger through the silky arousal and up inside myself without a hint of resistance. I instantly wanted to add another finger, to pump them in and out of myself while I rubbed my clit with the other hand.

Except he hadn’t told me to.

So I didn’t. I soaked my finger and went back to torturing my clit.

But fuck. I ached. There was an emptiness inside me that begged to be filled. Begged for his fingers or his tongue or his cock.

He was big. I’d felt him pressed up on me in that bedroom, and it was all I could think about now.

How there was no way he could disappoint me with a cock like that.

God, I fucking hoped not anyway.

“Fuck yourself with your fingers,” he grit out harshly, almost breathlessly.

The tone in his voice had me watching him more closely, and I lit up inside when I realized he was stroking his cock. I couldn’t see it, his waist was just below the windowsill, but his arm moved in a slow, back-and-forth motion that made me wish he was using that tempo on me.

I matched his pace, pushing my fingers up inside me while he pleasured himself.

It was two in the morning. There was nobody else out on the streets, and this little peep show felt like it was all between him and me. He jerked his hand faster, so I did too, fighting the urge to throw my head back and fall over the edge which was rapidly rising. My breaths became moans, and the windows around me fogged, but I wiped the windshield with the sleeve of my shirt so I could watch him.

The woman in his bed moaned loudly, and to drown her out, I rode my fingers harder, letting my own moans cover up the sound. I was so close. So achingly close, but he hadn’t told me to come.

Fuck. I wanted him to give me permission.

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