Page 71 of Sin City Lights

But right now, he wanted it to be about her.

Because he’d never stopped thinking about how it had felt to make her fall to pieces under his hands.

He didn’t need to see her to know what he was doing to her. Just like that night, he could sense it. But he waited. He would savor this.

She shifted, gripping the sides of the leather seat.

He needed better purchase.“Recline a little.”

She fumbled with the controls on the door panel. The seat motor whined softly as the back tilted.

“Spread for me.”

She did. Unhurried, just the way he liked it.

At last, his fingers sought between the teeth of the parted zipper, and found…

Jesus.

Lace, woven into little circles. Open circles.

A glance confirmed it. Ivory panties barely covered what lay underneath, and he almost lost it right there at first glimpse.

She was beautiful there, too.

He let his hand explore a moment longer, lightly caressing the delicate fabric and her heated skin, barely using any pressure, until she was moaning softly, her lashes lowered as she fixed her gaze on his hand.

God. She was watching.

Had he not been driving, his eyes would have rolled back in his head. He turned left, somehow still concentrating on the road, while his pulse skyrocketed and he hardened to steel.

The next second, Adam eased his finger inside one of the open circles.

And found her soaked.

She gasped. Blood rushed to his head, roaring in his ears, competing with the sound of the turbo engine. He swallowed back a groan and stilled his finger, keeping the tip on the spot where he intended to stroke her until she lost all control.“Want me to continue?”

A guttural moan.

“Is that ayes?” He pushed on her, just once, drawing another cry from her lips, now reddened from her pressing them together and biting down.“Or ano?”

She didn’t answer. Just sat there, legs slightly spread, all of her now shaking.

Sweet torture, this was. He circled once, then stilled again. Oh, he knew she couldn’t refuse him. She was obligated to do whatever he demanded. He realized that bothered him because, for some inexplicable reason, he wanted her to want it too.

“Please.”

That one breathy syllable from her lips caused something to explode in his chest, and he exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Ever so lightly, he began a slow stroke back and forth along the slick softness of her flesh.“Feel good?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

One hand firmly on the wheel, the other working her, he navigated the road while navigating her, gauging every reaction, every breath, every moan. Just as she’d done that night, however, she wasn’t surrendering completely.

“You’re holding back. Let go. Go with the feeling.”

Her lashes lowered. She took a deep, shuddering breath. He sensed a shift, then, and a few moments later, she was countering his moves as he coaxed and teased, alternating rhythm and pressure as the car roared forward.

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