"Do something about this," he whispers into my ear. "Your heart is rapping against my chest like a hammer, little girl, and I bet your pussy is drooling all over those good girl panties of yours."
"Shut up!" I hiss, closing my eyes in shame.
He's right. He's fucking right about everything.
I hate that.
He chuckles and tightens his embrace, forcing me to look up at him with the other hand by placing his finger below my chin and tilting my face up to his level. He's so close, the dark of his eyes seething and his lips almost touching mine.
"I wish you had worn a dress for me," he continues. "I could just lift it up and check for myself. I bet my fingers would be soaked if I touched you there, between your legs, parting your hot lips and letting a finger slide-"
"For fuck's sake, will you shut up-"
"Letting a finger slide right between them, maybe two, maybe three? Feel your wet cunt clench around me as I fuck you with my fingers, stretching you while you yearn for my cock. And use my thumb to play with your pink clit, spreading your naughty juices all over it. I bet it's hard right now, swollen and begging to be touched. Isn't it, little girl?"
I bite my lips. "You're filthy."
"And you fucking love it."
Before I can protest, he silences me with a kiss, his lips meeting mine with urgency, before his tongue is invading my mouth with unyielding force. There's no way to resist. I can't fight him any longer.
And I don't want to.