My eyes shift back and forth between what my fingers are doing to her and her face. Her eyes have long since dropped to my hand, defying my orders once again.
Mid-stroke, I withdraw my fingers and grab her face with my other hand, roughly squeezing her jaw in my grip. She mewls, crying from both the loss and the pain lancing through her face.
I deliver one quick, sharp slap to her pussy, enjoying the startled cry of pain that sneaks past her lips.
“What. Did. I. Say?” Her chest heaves, and her hips buck against the air, desperate to feel my fingers filling her up once more.
“Watch the movie,” she answers, sucking her lip between her teeth as her glazed eyes focus back on the screen.
“Were you listening?” I growl, refusing to touch her needy pussy.
“I—no. I’m sorry,” she says quietly, a deep crease forming between her brows. Her apology didn’t settle right with her, so to abate the sobering thoughts, I plunge my fingers back inside her.
A long moan releases, but her eyes stay glued to the screen.
“Good girl,” I praise, feeling the answering clench around my fingers. “If I catch you disobeying me one more time, you won’t get to come. Am I understood?”
She nods, the movement choppy and strained against the force of my fingers clutching her cheeks.
Releasing her face, my hand drifts to the front of her dress, tugging down harshly. The fabric holds tight beneath her tits, forcing them to swell. Groaning, I cup a full breast in my palm, squeezing tightly before kneading the sharpened point of her nipple between my fingers.
I resume my ministrations with the hand between her thighs, keeping my thrusts slow and languid. Drawing out her pleasure and wringing more delicious moans from her mouth. Her eyes droop into a half-lidded state, but they don’t stray from the screen.
Loud, wet noises war with the sound from the movie as my fingers dip in and out. She’s so fucking wet. She’s creating a pool on my slacks and the seat beneath us.
I trade between biting and licking at her neck and whispering words of appraisal in her ear. This time, I want her orgasm to build at a slower, more painful pace. It’ll gradually creep up while feeling so far out of reach.
“This sweet little pussy is so fucking needy for my fingers, isn’t it? Do you feel how tightly you’re gripping me? I have to fight just to withdraw my fingers so I can fuck you with them.”
A sinister vibe emanates from the screen, and Addie’s pulse seems to become even more erratic.
“Zade, please,” she begs, her nails biting into my arms. My sleeves alleviate the sting, but the pressure increases until I fear she’s going to start breaking her red painted nails.
My free hand grips her throat and squeezes firmly until her face pinkens, and her breath grows short. Staccato moans bursts from her lips as I increase my pace and firmly rub her clit with my thumb.
“Oh, God—” she sucks in a sharp breath.
“That’s right, I am your God.”
“Zade!” she screams a moment before her pussy clenches onto my fingers so tightly, I can hardly move them any longer.
Her back arches and her head kicks back, past the point of caring about my demands and the movie. A sob wracks her throat as I continue thrusting, riding out her orgasm until her entire body is convulsing and she’s desperately trying to pull my hand away.
“Oh my god, oh my god, Zade, stop,” she chants, her juices flooding so heavily from her core that I feel them spilling past my hand.
Finally, I ease my fingers out, licking them clean as she watches me with a colorful expression. She’s satisfied, but embarrassment, shame, and anger are slowly creeping back in.
Now that she’s coming down from her high, reality is setting in.
I laugh as she scrambles from my lap and rearranges her dress back to its previous state—a tad more rumpled than before but no less beautiful.
There’s a slight wet spot between my legs, but luckily my black slacks conceal it, and most of it got on the seat. I feel the need to leave a hundred-dollar bill for whoever has to clean that.
“I can’t believe we did that,” she mutters under her breath, seemingly to herself as her hands drift over her hair, checking to make sure nothing is out of place.
“You look beautiful,” I say, cutting off her continued muttering and rendering her silent. Subtly, she glances over her shoulder at me, but doesn’t acknowledge my words.
“So, not only do you only fear me in the daylight, but you only love me when I’m making you come.”
That gets her attention. She whips around, fire in her eyes as she spits, “I don’t love you.”