Page 41 of Call You Mine

I thought about dropping her back at the house and taking off on my own but after what she’d just been through, that seemed like a dick move. Not that she wanted to talk about it, sitting there beside me with her fingers fiddling on her lap and her mouth puckered into a pretty little pout.

“Lean back, put your feet up, and enjoy the ride baby,” I tell her, ignoring the way she’s watching me. I hate the way she looks at me. With a sort of admiration, respect I don’t deserve. Especially after the way I just stood up for her and made our little deal seem all too real.

Without wanting to, I made our relationship seem like it meant so much more to me than I’d originally tried to make her believe.

I hate it because I know the longer she stares at me in that way, with wide eyes full of want, her slick tongue tracing over pink and plump lips, the faster I’ll fall. Falling is not an option where she’s concerned. Not when it’s a fatal fall off the tallest skyscraper in the city. Not when it’s so goddamn appealing even though I know it will mark my demise.

What kind of twisted shit is that?

“But where are we going?” she asks again, this time a tad more uneasy.

Wynter hates when she’s not in control which happens more often than not. Although she always seemed in control of her emotions, behind closed doors there was a puppet-master,pulling all the strings. He’s gone now, but I fear my girl is a creature of habit and somehow fell into the same trap. That’s who she’s running from. Her new puppeteer I will murder with my bare hands once I find him.

“Anywhere we want, Princess.”

She surprises me when she sits back and adjusts her seatbelt, doing as she’s told. Only instead of kicking her feet up on the dash like I expected her to do, she shifts in her seat and throws her legs over the center console, her shiny heels resting in my lap.

The sight of creamy white skin, glittering with some sparkly body oil makes my dick hard, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel to keep from reaching out and caressing her. To keep from claiming her like I so desperately crave. She shimmies in place, the heel of her thousand-dollar shoe digging into my thigh with purpose.

Purposefully trying to drive me fucking mad.

“Princess,” I groan, biting down on the inside of my cheek. “Don’t start something you ain’t planning on finishing.”

A deep, throaty chuckle escapes her lips and my cock fucking twitches at the sound. “Who said anything about me not being willing?” There goes that fucking tongue again.

I take my eyes off the road for a split second and the sight of her relaxed and slightly flushed as her heel presses deeper against my dick, almost painfully good. I nearly hit the brakes, staring at the way her dress dips low revealing a good chunk of cleavage that rises and falls with her heavy breaths.

Calling her bluff, I run my fingers along her soft skin, starting at her ankles and slowly moving up toward the hem of her dress which is now hitched up to her upper thighs. Her breathing turns unsteady, her mouth dropping open as a soft moan leaves her lips. The sight is fucking erotic but the look in her eyes nearly makes me break my composure.

I keep trailing my fingers back and forth across her skin and she wiggles in my lap trying to inch in closer. To feel me, feel the way my body reacts to hers. It’s no surprise she makes me harder than I’ve ever been for anyone else. My girl is a fucking goddess, tightly wrapped in a package of luxury. Unlike anyone I’ve ever met, she’s flawless, tainted on the inside but on the outside pristine and perfect.

One hand on the steering wheel and the other so close to her sweet little cunt, I rev the engine and take a sharp turn toward a back road leading out of the city.

I’m a guy, obviously not above getting hot and heavy in the back seat of my car, but I’m sure as hell not doing that shit on a public road, a block away from where I live.

My fingers inch closer to her sweet center, gripping her thigh and slowly pushing them apart. “Damon,” she moans, her legs falling open as far as they’re able to in this position.

“Behave, Princess.”

She grins, wicked and wanting. “What if I don’t want to?”

Desire floods through my veins at the sexy little smirk that teases her lips. My left hand grips the steering wheel tighter while my right struggles with not pushing inside her.

I swerve sharply, pulling into a vacant alleyway between two abandoned industrial buildings tucked into the edge of the city. I know they’re vacant because we sometimes use them for the larger, private gatherings Kingsman hosts.

Shifting the gear into park, I click my seat belt off and turn so I’m facing her head on. Her dress is tight around her upper thighs, straining as she tries to spread wider for me. Pushing her legs to one side, I reach into the center console, digging a switchblade out from the bottom, and cut the fabric of her skirt in one swift move, being careful not to nip her. My fingers move with quick precision, she doesn’t realize what I’ve done until thefabric falls to the side, revealing a red lace thong pressed against her pussy with a sweet little wet spot.

My tongue snakes out to graze my lips at the sight. I’m so fucking ready to devour her. I can smell her arousal in the air and it’s intoxicating. Wynter notices my response, a soft whimper leaving her lips as she scoots closer to me, bending her knees slightly which only makes her legs fall wider.

The bratty little princess wants to play, only she has no fucking idea what that means.

We’ve fucked once—have almost gotten there a handful of times since—but she has no clue the kinds of things I want from her. The stuff I need her to do for me will tarnish the reputation of a prim and proper princess and turn her into a sultry and sensual little fox. She’s tougher than she looks, and as for that night we were together, I know for damn sure she’s never had a night like that with anyone else.

She obeyed my commands and was so responsive to my touch, always has been. And as goosebumps cover her silky flesh, a mix of arousal and the air conditioning blaring high through the vents, her body remembers. Muscle memory, conditioned to feel everything with just the simple look in my eyes.

“Damon,” she moans, her tone heady and full of need. It matches the heat in her eyes as she watches my fingers flex over the blade I tuck back into the console.

Bringing a finger to her lips, she opens for me, sucking on the tip before taking it fully into her mouth. I groan, “You think you know what you want Wynter, but you don’t have a goddamn clue what I need.” Falling back to reach under my seat, I push the button to adjust the seat and make room for what I’m about to do next. I reach over to unbuckle her seatbelt, pull her legs toward me and grab her hips, tugging her over to straddle me. She yelps at the quick movement, nearly hitting the top of herhead as she scoots in closer to me, but she knows to lean her head forward.

---