“I guess that means we have a deal.” His voice is almost conversational. The only hint that we aren’t just having a civil discussion about a contract is the slightly breathless quality of his voice. Otherwise, he acts like he isn’t holding me down in the front seat of his Maserati while cars trundle by on the road that is only a few yards away. “Now, about that touching I’m not supposed to do.”
My shirt has hiked up in our brief struggle until the hem of it floats around my ribcage. His free hand shoves the hem higher until my chest is exposed. I don’t typically where a bra when I sleep, and it hadn’t occurred to me to put one on before we left, though it probably should have.
When he pushes the shirt up so it bunches around my neck, my entire chest is exposed.
“So perfect…” he murmurs, before his head lowers and licks across one taut nipple.
Using his hips as leverage, Vin pushes at one of my legs until it spreads wide enough that he can get up on his knees. My thighs drape over his hips, so obscenely wide that anyone walking by would see everything that wasn’t hidden by the thin strip of my underwear.
Even though his cock is free in all its glory, he doesn’t try to move my underwear aside. Instead, he grinds against me through the sopping cotton, creating a channel for himself that forces the fabric taut against me.
“What are you doing?” I gasp.
A lick on my neck leaves a trail of heat. “Fucking you without a condom.”
He shifts his hips so the head of him enters me through my panties, creating a burning pressure. I buck off the leather seat. My hips thrust against his, even as I beg him with the frantic sounds that escape my throat to put an end to the torture.
The pressure from the hand he has wrapped around both of mine and pushing against my chest keeps me still. That still doesn’t stop me from thrashing frantically beneath him, chasing the sensations to oblivion and beyond.
Dry humping hadn’t been cool even at kissing parties in middle school, but today it’s more than enough to make me feel wound up tighter than a spinning top.
All he has to do is let me go, and I’ll spin off into outer space.
Fingers move up my chest. He doesn’t hold back with his nails, digging into the skin as they trace a sharp pattern around one breast. When he squeezes one nipple hard between his thumb and index finger, twisting it harder than should feel good, fireworks shoot off inside of my head.
“If I can make you come like this, then I’m shoving my dick down your throat next chance I get. No condoms required for that.” He doesn’t wait for me to agree. Which is good, because I’m not sure what I would say if forced to respond.
Because I am about to come just like this. I’m going to come on the sleek cock grinding over my clit, and there isn’t anything that can stop it.
“I don’t have to be inside you to fuck you. Because I am always inside you. We crawled inside each other’s skin ten years ago, and we’ll never tear ourselves apart again, even when all we feel is hate.” He punctuates the last word with another harsh thrust of his hips. The tip of his dick pushes past my entrance again through the fabric of my panties. “Don’t come, or you’ll prove me right.” His voice is mocking, even as he grinds down harder. “Don’t come. Don’t come.”
The angry words are meant for both of us.
Vin leans so close that the tip of his nose pushes against mine. The brilliant blue of his eyes fills my vision, drowning me. His eyes alone almost take me over the edge.
For a brief and shining moment, I forget all about who we are and all the history that makes peace impossible.
I have the insane thought that I can float away on that deep blue sea of his gaze.
But then his hand pushes underneath the curve of my ass and slips past the edge of my underwear. I only have a millisecond to wonder if he will really do it before a single finger pushes past the tight ring of muscle at my rear entrance.
The intrusion hurts, but in a way that feels like the preface to something more. I just don’t know yet if that more is a good thing or a bad one. His first stroke is tentative, hesitant. But the moment he feels my spasming hole relax the smallest bit, he forces that finger inside until it disappears to the second knuckle.
My orgasm explodes out of me with a pained cry. The aftermath of it leaves me shivering underneath him. It only takes a few more strokes against my slit for him to let out a groan of his own.
Vin gives a low groan above me. Jets of warm liquid shoot onto my bare belly, just missing the fabric of my shirt and pooling into the divot of my belly button.
It’s only when I finally catch my breath enough to wipe myself off with a handful of napkins from the glove compartment, straighten my clothes, and sit upright on the clammy leather seat that I realize how thoroughly he managed to distract me from getting an answer to my question.
I still have no idea where we’re going.
Twenty-Seven
When we finally reach the vineyard, I see in her eyes an understanding of why I’ve been so cagey.
I need her not to get the wrong idea about this, because it isn’t what she thinks.
But I see the question in those limpid brown eyes. Why would I bring her all the way
