“Get back to your seat. Now.” He’s ordering me, but I’m too far gone to listen. His body is tightening against mine and I rub my breasts down his arm, hardening the tight buds until they’re painful.
“My nipples didn’t get this hard earlier, you know.” I take his free hand and slip it under my dress until he’s sinking his fingers against my folds. “I wasn’t this wet either. Do you know what that means?”
He doesn’t look at me, his entire attention on the road, but he doesn’t remove his hand from my pussy either. “What?”
My lips meet the shell of his ear and I whisper, “It means I’m only a slut for you, Nate.”
The change is barely noticeable, but it’s there in his flaring nostrils and the tic in his jaw. His fingers tighten on my core and I moan, feeling my wetness drenching my panties and messing up his hand and my thighs. That’s all I’ve ever been for freaking five years.
A mess.
And it’s one of the most beautiful messes to have ever been created.
One that he made. One that he keeps nurturing.
“No, you’re not.” He removes his hand from me and the car comes to a halt. We’re already home, but I couldn’t care less about that right now, because he stopped touching me.
“What? Why?”
His eyes meet mine, and I think I liked it better when they hadn’t, because there’s a strong current there that’s about to sweep me under and bury me in its depths.
“You’re not my slut if you let other people touch what’s fucking mine. Get the fuck off me.”
I do the exact opposite and awkwardly tumble forward until I’m sitting on his lap. My legs stretch wide on either side of him so that I’m able to sit down. But I don’t sit anywhere. I lift my dress and lower myself onto his erection, so his cock is nudging against my soaked panties.
My core clenches in remembrance of him inside me and the image turns me delirious as I glide myself against his bulge.
“Gwyneth, stop.”
I shake my head frantically. “I lied. I didn’t like it, not really.”
“You didn’t like what?”
“Grinding against Alex and Chris.”
“Then why the fuck did you do it?”
“Because…” I wet my lips. “Because I wanted to forget.”
“Forget what?”
“You…among other things. But it didn’t work. All I could think about was you.” I bite my lower lip because his hard-on is growing against my swollen folds and I can’t help rocking against it. Back and forth until I’m so wet, my thighs are soaked with the evidence.
His strong hand wraps around my waist, under the dress that’s now bunched to my stomach. He jerks his hips up as I go down and I whimper. “You thought about me, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you think about?”
“Your strong hands and hard chest. I thought about your cock, too, and how big it is.” I’m dry-humping him now, my movements turned frantic by his thrusts.
“What else?”
“I thought about how much my pussy wants you. Not anyone else, you.”
“Because it’s my pussy?”
“Yeah. It is.”
“And you’re a slut. My slut.”
“I am.” He didn’t ask, but I’m answering anyway. I’m sliding up and down, fucking myself on his bulge and I’m getting close, so close that my legs tremble.
“Is my slut going to let anyone else but me touch her again?”
“No…no…I won’t…”
“That’s right, because if you do, I’ll fuck up their lives, Gwyneth. I mean it.”
I come then. It’s so harsh and intense that I scream. I scream loud and uncensored, not caring that someone might pass by and see me becoming his slut.
That someone could see me screaming and panting and moaning Nate’s name.
Actually, they should.
I really wish someone would see me shattering all over him.
His words shouldn’t make me this horny. I shouldn’t come at the promise of him hurting people because they touched me, but I do, and it goes on for such a long time that I don’t think I’ll ever come down.
The alcohol in my blood makes my head buzz as I stare at him through droopy eyes, still rocking back and forth against him. At some point, both of his hands wrap around my waist and now it feels like everything is complete.
There’s something in his dark gaze. I don’t know what, but it’s there, and it’s filling me with so many emotions at once.