Page 24 of Breeding Clinic

“What are you doing?”

His hand slides over, tracing the cleft of my buttocks. Dipping lower, to tease my pussy through layers of fabric. My clit throbs and I glance around to see if anyone’s watching. This section of the store is empty. It’s early on a weekday and most people are at work.

“What are you doing?” I ask again. Whispering, trying not to draw attention to us.

“You like it when I’m assertive. And I can smell how wet you are.” He flips to another section of the book and keeps reading. “Your safeword is waffles. Do you understand?”

He’s right. I’ve always liked the thrill of potentially getting caught. Josh always had to be careful about his image with the press. And he never understood why I liked it. I can’t explain it. There’s something electrifying about having a naughty secret. About doing something you’re not supposedto. About getting off when you shouldn’t be. Where you shouldn’t be.

“Can you remember your safeword for me, kitten?”

“Yes.” Are we really doing this?

He flips a page with one hand and hikes the back of my dress up with the other. His fingertips trace over the curve of my ass. Skims the elastic waistband of my panties.

“There are cameras,” I point out.

He turns the next page. “There’s no way they have someone monitoring them live.”

“There are people in here.”

“Then you’ll want to be quiet.”

When he touches my damp slit through my panties, I want to moan. But I can’t. He rubs me up and down, soaking the fabric in my arousal. My clit throbs and my pussy plumps as he teases me. I watch the aisle like a hawk, using his larger frame to shield me. The back of this aisle leads to a dead end with self help books and travel guides. It’s not exactly crowded.

There’s only the sound of him turning pages and the low din of people on the other side of the store. The beeps of the cash register. People talking and the grinder whirring in the coffee shop.

He gets bolder, working his hand down my panties. My thighs spread as I fidget, hanging onto him for support.

When he touches my clit without the fabric to dampen it, I have to bite back my moan. I’m soaking wet. We shouldn’t be doing this. I’m going to cry when I get banned from my favorite bookstore.

But when he leans down and curls two fingers inside of me, I don’t stop him.

They pump, in and out, my pussy making a wet sucking sound. It has to be loud. Surely everyone can hear this. Butnobody comes running to point and shout. I swallow my breathy sounds and twist my fingers in his shirt.

His hard cock presses against my thigh. Reaching down, I rub him through his jeans. Turnabout is fair play. He sucks in a breath, but doesn’t stop. Neither do I.

He fingers me, alternating between plunging two fingers inside me and rubbing my mound. My clit. Through his jeans, I trace the outline of his cock. Rub along his flared head. Stroke over his shaft. He dresses to the left.

An older woman walks past our aisle and I freeze, but Liam doesn’t stop. He can’t see her. I’m not sure if he’d care if he could. She heads to the section with the bibles and Liam rubs me faster. Impossibly fast. The last time I was fingered this well was by a guitarist.

Pressure builds. I’m going to come. In a bookstore in broad daylight. My breathing gets heavy and I bite my lip to stay quiet. I lean into him, using his rock solid frame for balance.

I can smell him. His arousal. Everyone in this store can likely scent us too, even if they don’t know where it’s coming from. My hips rock with him, building to a rhythm. Chasing a forbidden pleasure.

When I come, I can’t hold back my moan. It comes out low and throaty. All I can do is hope that I was quiet enough that the entire store didn’t hear me. I squeeze his cock through his jeans and enjoy his grunt in response. Being that hard in jeans has got to be uncomfortable.

Liam pulls his hand out of my drenched panties and lets my dress settle over my thighs. He brings his soaked hand to his mouth and licks it clean, his chest rumbling with a subtle purr.

Panting, I come back down to Earth. I can’t believe we did that. It was scary. Exhilarating. I want to do it again.

“We should go,” he says. Liam reaches down and adjusts hiserection in his pants so it’s slightly less noticeable. It doesn’t do all that much. He’s big. “Grab all of your books, kitten.”

After that stunt, I grab the boxed collector’s set of the romantasy series I’ve been eying for months. I already own all of the books, but I love them. And the special edition books are illustrated inside with painted edges and gold foiling. It costs an obscene amount of money.

He doesn’t bat an eye as the cashier rings us up. He pays for them, then slings an arm possessively around my hip and carries the heavy bags to his truck. I go to my side, but he beats me to it, reaching around to open the door for me.

I slide into his truck and he puts the bags in the backseat of the cab, then shuts my door and goes around to his side. After we buckle our seatbelts and he pulls out onto the road, I twist in my seat to stare at him.

---