“Tinted windows,” he says as if that's a good enough reason. “What? You worried someone will see you not being a perfect saint?”
“Don't be an asshole,” I say, crawling to the back. “And I'm not a perfect saint.” I begin to unbutton my jeans and pull them down and off. I straddle his lap and feel his erection against my panties.
“Prove it then.” He leans back with his arms behind his head, and his lips in a crooked smile.
“Fuck you in the back seat of your Challenger to prove what? That I don't have standards?”
He grabs the outside of my bare thighs and rubs himself against my core. The pressure adds to the desperate ache that's already there. “That you're actually a bad girl hidden behind the dorky glasses and Harry Potter T-shirts.”
“Do you just have to push every damn button of mine?” I widen my legs, falling harder against him. I rotate my hips and feel him growing harder underneath me.
“Don't fuck with me, Princess,” he warns, bringing his hips up to rub against my pussy again, his fingers digging into my skin. I start grinding against him faster, his head falling back against the seat with a throaty groan.
“And why's that?” I whisper with confidence. “You going to—”
He slides a finger under the fabric of my panties and moves them to the side. He rubs his thumb over my clit that's already sensitive and aching. He adds just the right amount of pressure to make my body sing.
My hands rest on his shoulders and squeeze as he slides a finger inside. I grind my hips down and feel him go deeper. “You want to tell me again how I’m not the boss of you?”
I want to slap that smug look right off his face, but instead, I lean down and kiss him. At least I can shut him up for now.
He slides a second finger in, moving faster and pressing deeper. He swallows my moans with his mouth and kisses me with absolute ferocity.
“Don’t forget my rules, Viola,” he warns as my body tightens to a crescendo.
I release a harsh breath, resting my forehead against his as the buildup slows, then releases. I grit my teeth, and say, “One.”
He smiles. “That’s my good girl.”
I shake my head at him, narrowing my eyes. “You’re such an egotistical asshole.”
“Whatever keeps the fire burning,” he quips, his fingers sinking deep inside again. “You think it’d be this good if we didn’t hate each other so much?”
I grind against his hand, feeling the pressure build up again.
“Everyone has their own ways of getting off, Princess. And pissing you off, seeing that look of distaste on your face, only makes me harder.”
“So you’re saying hate-fucking is some kind of fetish of yours?”
“Just with you, Viola.” He smiles, pulling me closer and pressing his mouth to mine. “Only you.”
I count to three before I can no longer take it and demand he fucks me. He has me reach behind to grab a condom out of his center console.
“Condoms in your car? Really?” I ask as I hand it to him. “Could you be any more cliché?
“Could you be any more desperate to ride it?” he counters, a sly smirk on his face, having zero shame.
I roll my eyes, pinching my lips together to hold in an amused chuckle. Why is it even the most crass things he says makes me melt like a pathetic love-sick puppy?
Sitting back, I watch him lower his shorts and roll the condom over his massive hard-on. He grabs my hips and positions my body over him, sliding in slowly. He looks up at me, watching for my reaction. My eyes flutter closed as the sensation takes over my body, and everything turns white. God, the way he makes me feel is indescribable. I hate him and his cocky attitude. The way he knows how to get exactly what he wants, even when I’m fighting it inside.
I’m completely losing myself in him. With every second, my heart beats a little faster, falls a little deeper, and every time his mouth covers mine, I forget how much he broke me in the past.
“Your pussy squeezes my dick so fucking hard,” he growls, fisting his hand in my hair as his other hand digs into my hip, rocking my body against his. His words make me grind into him faster and faster, wanting to see the look of satisfaction on his face.
“Fuck, Princess. You like it so goddamn rough, don’t you?” His head falls back against the seat again, both hands gripping my waist as he arches his hips and pounds into me harder.
“Yesyesyesyes…” I cry, feeling him all the way inside me.