Page 200 of Forbidden Lessons

Wherever my drugged up lamb leads, I’ll follow.

She moans when I rub my knuckle over her nipple sticker.

Her teeth clench around the sucker stick as she smiles, her hand sliding down my stomach.

I mimic her, my body tensing. The lower she goes, the lower I go.

But I stop her when she tries to grab my cock, because right now, there’s nothing to grab. And she resists, so I slam her wrist into the trunk above her head. And then, in case she still wants to get handsy, I do the same with the other, trapping both her wrists in one hand, my other free to roam her body.

Down her arm, slow.

Skating over her throat and having to fight the urge to seize it. Down her torso instead, pausing to rub the sticker over her nipple until she’s moaning. Her trash bag rustles, chips of dried paint peeling off inside.

I watch her expression, transfixed by the way her eyelashes flutter, her mouth opens and closes.

Down I glide my hand. To her stomach.

Between her thighs.

She gasps, her legs spreading for me when I drag my nails over her underwear.

Haven’s eyes fly open the same time her mouth does. There’s a flash of desperation in them before she groans and bucks against my hand, her lips trembling.

It’s all too much.

Too fucking much.

She has no idea how lucky she is that the molly KOd my dick, else I’d be nailing her into this tree right now. I need something to take off the edge, something to give my own body the release it’s so badly craving.

I can’t look away from her mouth. How she winces, moans, gasps.

And it’s dark out here, right? Too dark for her to make out my face.

Her eyes are closed anyway. She’s lost to the touch of my fingers as I stroke her clit and pussy through her already soaked underwear.

I turn my head, shrugging off my mask, and look back at Haven, expecting her to be staring at me, ready to attack.

But she’s still blissfully unaware of who’s forcing so much pleasure on her.

And fuck, seeing her like that, submissive and vulnerable and so ready, it’s the sweetest hit I’ve ever had. The highest high I’ve ever fucking climbed.

I duck my head, stopping with my mouth an inch from hers.

Can’t do it.

I can’t fucking do it.

Not like this.

When it will mean nothing to her. When she might not even fucking remember it tomorrow.

Her breath is on my lips, and I know she can feel mine. But she’s waiting for me to make the first move. Perhaps not even expecting me to.

Sex, without the intimacy. Because that’s how she rolls.

My fingers thrust into her so hard she gasps. I keep them buried deep as I grind my palm against her clit, until her legs clamp closed, and her back arches, and she lets out a pained whimper as she comes.

For a complete stranger.

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