Page 90 of Dare To Live

“What are you doing?” His voice is husky.

Hiking up my dress, I straddle his lap, smiling at the way the hard ridge of his erection presses against me through his pants. “I want you.”

“You’re drunk,” He runs his fingers over my ponytail. “We’re in moving traffic, and there’s no privacy glass.”

“You’re drunk too. I want you to fuck me.” I try to kiss him again. “You know you want to.”

Eli avoids my mouth. “Baby, the driver can see us.”

“I don’t care.”

His hand skims up my thighs toward my hip, then stops. “Where are your panties?”

“I took them off before we left the restaurant.” My arms wrap lightly around his neck. “I know how much you like me without them.”

“Tonight isn’t supposed to be about sex, remember?”

“But we are sex.” I nip and bite my way along his neck. “We’ve always been about sex. Mind-blowing, amazing sex. That’s what we are. It’s us. It’s always been us. Perfect together in bed.”

His hands grip my hips as I rock back and forward on his lap, enjoying the friction it brings, but it’s not enough. I need him inside me. I need him so deep that I lose all sense of where I begin and where he ends.

He groans. “We should have had more.”

“I don’t want more.”

Eli freezes. “What?”

“I want your dick.” Reaching for his belt, I undo it.

“You don’t want more than sex?”

“All I want right now is for you to fuck me.”

“Ari—”

His hands grab my wrist before I can slip my hand down beneath the waistband of his underwear to touch the pulsing erection I can feel pressing against my pussy.

“Please, Eli, I need you. Let me repay you for dinner tonight.”

Chapter 50

Eli

“Stop it.” My voice snaps out like a whipcrack. “I am not fucking you in the back of this car.”

“But you said—” There’s a slur to her words, as she fights to free her hands from my grip. “Please, Eli.” Her lower lip thrusts out into a pout.

“I said sex is off the table tonight. No sex, no dares, no fucking games.” I drop her wrists and wrap my hands around her waist to lift her off me. “Sit fucking still and put your seatbelt back on.”

“Is everything okay back there?” The driver’s eyes meet mine through the mirror.

“Fine. Can we please get back to the hotel?”

Arabella’s hand crawls onto my thigh and slides inwards. I catch it in mine. “I said no.”

“I thought you wanted me?” Tears fill her eyes, and I groan.

“I do want you, but not like this. You’re drunk.”

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