I shuddered as sparks of pleasure and delicious points of pain electrified every nerve ending I had. It felt so good, I could hardly believe it. I had the distant thought that after Mark, having someone touching me should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. This made the throb between my legs more intense, the pleasure more acute. No wonder the blonde had been leaning into him.
‘Oh, my God,’ I whispered in amazement, arching into his hands as he flicked his thumbs over my achingly hard nipples.
‘Yes, you like that, don’t you?’ His voice was as deep and dark as it could possibly get. ‘Now who’s boss, pretty thing?’
‘Me,’ I replied, gasping as he pinched me again. ‘I’m the one driving.’
‘Are you, now?’ His thumbs circled around each nipple, gentle now, teasing me mercilessly. ‘Then by all means, take the wheel.’
So I did, spreading my hands out on his chest and pushing him firmly against the back of the seat. Then I reached down to the button on his jeans, pulling at it, trying to get it open.
He was so hot and he smelled musky, with the bite of some dark spice that had me nuzzling down the side of his neck, biting it so I could taste his skin, kissing his collarbones and nipping at him.
He cursed, his powerful body tightening, and I clamped my thighs around his waist to let him know that I had no intention of moving and that I didn’t want him to, either.
But his hands were moving too, finding the button on my trousers and deftly flicking it open as I fumbled with his jeans, then he was pushing beneath the cotton of my knickers, his fingers sliding against my slick flesh.
Stars burst behind my eyes as a whip of pure pleasure licked across me, tearing another gasp from my throat. His other hand settled on the small of my back, urging me forward and against his stroking fingers.
‘Oh...’ I gasped. ‘I... God...’
‘Still driving, hmmm?’ he purred in my ear, all arrogant male satisfaction.
I tried to pull myself together, tugging at his jeans, desperate to get them open and my hands on him so I could stay in charge, but he’d already found my clit and, for all his brute strength, his touch was so gentle, so light that, much to my horror, I felt the prick of tears.
No. How was this happening? I hadn’t cried for years, not since my mother’s funeral, so why was I crying now? Why was having someone else touch me so much more intense than when I touched myself? Because it was. And I had no idea why.
I shuddered helplessly, all thoughts about fighting him for control fading away, crushed by the weight of pleasure building inside me.
‘Why don’t you let me drive for a change?’ His voice was a low, dark rumble, his finger stroking gently, making me rock against him, desperate for more.
‘Yes,’ I panted, barely aware of what I was saying, turning my face into his neck as pleasure gathered tight as a fist inside me. ‘Yes, okay...please.’
There was something to this, to simply letting him do what he wanted. Like giving myself up to the machine carrying me, to the speed of it. Trusting that it wouldn’t crash somehow.
Strange to give that trust to a man I didn’t know.
But I did it all the same, shifting my hips against his hand as his finger slipped and slid around my clit, his other hand pressing hard against the small of my back. ‘Oh, Mr Evans...’
‘That’s sexy, pretty thing. But I think you can call me Ash now.’
I shuddered as his finger eased inside me, testing me. ‘A-Ash...’
‘Better,’ he growled. ‘I like the way you say my name when my fingers are in your pussy.’ And he pushed another in, stretching me.
I moaned, pleasure breaking over me in waves as his fingers slid in deep. Then out. Then in.
My fingers curled on his chest, digging into the heavy muscle of his pecs as I tried to move against him, impatient now and increasingly desperate. ‘More,’ I whispered. ‘Faster.’
‘Patience.’ His fingers slowed. ‘Remember who’s driving.’
But I’d never been one for patience.
My hands were shaking as I made one last frustrated attempt to get his jeans open but this time I managed it. And then I was pushing beneath the denim and into his boxers, finding the huge, hard length of his cock.
He hissed as I wrapped my fingers around him and for a second I forgot what he was doing to me, the velvety feel of his skin so unexpected. But the heat was there—oh, God, so much of it.
I tightened my fingers, relishing the way he jerked in my grip.