Page 55 of PortCity Killers

“Yes, sir.”

“There. Voc is a willing participant. Shorts. Off. Unless you object?”

I breathed as deep as I could, trying to settle the butterflies. My hands shook slightly, something Don noticed and smiled at as I unbuttoned my shorts. I shimmied out of them, keeping my eyes firmly on the seat. That proved to be a mistake when Don leaned back further. His legs spread, one arm resting across the seat.

“Panties.” His voice was husky, his accent thicker in a way that spilled along my skin. He stretched out his hand, making a gimme motion.

I stripped them off, handing them to him. I gasped as my chocha hit the cool leather seat, the lips spreading ever so slightly as I shifted to hand the panties to him. He lifted them to his face, inhaling deeply, and I thought I was going to fucking explode. His tongue flicked across the wet spot I had felt growing inside them.

He hummed, a sound so fucking content I thought he would settle himself back for a nap with the way his eyes closed, the way he rocked his head gently on the seat behind him.

He licked his lips, pocketing the panties in his jacket pocket, “Touch yourself, muñequita. Show me how you pleasure yourself when no one else is with you, but don’t come.”

“Don’t come?” My voice was high and tight.

“We have all night,” He smirked, his self-assured attitude was napalm to my already tingling bits, “Why rush it?”

“Right,” I breathed. I sat across from him, legs like jelly. I slid my hand between them, crushing my teeth down on the whimper that nearly broke free from between my lips at how wet I already was.

It didn’t matter though, Don saw it. The look in his eyes said everything. I couldn’t help my eyes drifting away, locking onto a pair of dark brown ones that should have been looking at the road when I let a finger brush over my clit.

My mouth dropped open, a small sound coming from inside of me from that same place that Bryce loved to push every time we went somewhere risky and played.

Like he could hear my thoughts, like he had a fucking telepathic link to my goddamn brain, Don asked, “Do you touch yourself like this for him?”

My breath hitched, “What?”

It took me a second to register what he had said, let alone process it.

“For Bryce?” He clarified.

My heart stuttered in my chest, “Why the hell do you want to know about Bryce?”

I slowed, barely touching myself as I looked at him. He gave me a sharp look, pointedly glancing between my legs. I moved faster, pressing two fingers against myself and circling until I was little more than a melted puddle on the rich leather of his seats.

I really wanted to ask how the hell he knew about him, but I couldn't think straight with both pairs of eyes watching me as I circled the tight nub between my pussy lips.

“He is in your life, is he not? Why wouldn’t I want to know about him?”

I stopped rubbing, sitting up straighter even though my clit ached and jumped under the phantom movements it was craving. Shame for not having clarified the situation earlier hit me, but I hadn’t exactly even had time to process our relationship myself, “I hadn’t gotten a chance to-”

“I don’t care that you’re with him, Alex. I do care that you’ve stopped. Twice. Put your feet on the seat.”

I shuddered, not even needing to touch myself to feel the pulsing in my clit at the sharp tone of his voice. I’d heard him order his men around, but not like this. This had me settling my feet on either side of me with a ragged sigh. The skin of my belly was soft, my thighs wide as I looked at Don.

“Smack your clit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I won’t repeat myself. Hard or I’ll be tempted to have Voc administer your punishment since I’ve already vowed not to touch you tonight.”

“Oh fuck.”

This time when he smiled it was fucking predatory. The smile of a man who might like to watch me flaying myself alive for him. It had my knees weak in a way I didn’t even know I was craving until I saw it in his eyes.

“I find I like how much the thought of another punishing you turns me on. We have exactly five minutes before we arrive at the loading dock. You’ll need to have your shorts back on unless I want to share you further. Begin.” He held up two fingers to reiterate, like I couldn’t fucking count, “Two strikes.”

“Okay, fuck,” I muttered.

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