Page 88 of Hell Breaks Loose

“There’s not going to be anything quick about it.” I moan softly, reaching over to palm him through his jeans.

“I suppose it depends on how quickly we get done at the safe house.”

“I can always make you finish quickly.”

“Is that a dare?”

“Not even a challenge,” I sing, shifting in my seat to bend over the console.

He’s bulging through his zipper as I unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants. The massive rod of his manhood strains through his shorts as I drag the lip of his boxers down.

“Mmm… you’re so fucking big.”

“And you’re fucking hot,” he breathes as I lick the base of him.

One of his powerful and agile hands slips down my back, into my pants, cupping my ass as I prop myself up on my knees. Thank goodness I wore stretchy joggers…

My fingers curl around his shaft, stroking so softly.

Teasing.

Making him arch off the seat.

“Fuck…”

“Clutch,” I moan, squeezing his balls, “Ready for me to put you in gear?”

“Stick shift jokes?” He chuckles, his voice husky.

“I do love driving you nuts,” I hum,right before I plunge his massive cock into my mouth, cupping the flat of my tongue around him and swallowing him to the hilt.

His growl is all the encouragement I need.

But the hand playing down my ass crack doesn’t hurt anything. Neither does the finger teasing my opening, slipping into my entrance. Or the thumb that makes me clench as he toys with my other entrance.

I just moan to make sure he knows how much I want it.

That I'm ready for whatever he wants to give me. And boy, he does.

I start slurping him up and down as hard and fast as I can.

Because he doesn’t stand a chance against me.

Even if the feeling of his fingers slipping into me both ways makes my legs start to shake. And I fucking love the way he feels throbbing against the back of my throat, all the way out to the tip where I lick the thread of sticky, hot honey beading from his arousal. Then back in, hard and deep, making my eyes water just slightly.

Turns out, dealing with this dangerous organization and faking a hardcore bitch every hour of every day has grown my tastes for rough sex. For a little punishment.

Whether it’s punishing him or myself.

It’s all... amazing.

“We’re almost there,” he gasps, practically writhing in his seat.

The car bucks erratically as his foot twitches on the gas pedal. Which means he’s closer than we are to arriving.

Given over completely to the task of making him come undone, I suck my way back to the top, twirl around the head of his slick, glistening column, savoring the sensations, the shivers that might be the rumble of the car or him. Sucking harder, I pump my fist up and down, as fast as I can.

“Hell,” he grunts, his grip squeaking on the steering wheel.

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