I reach for him. He wraps his palms around my waist and effortlessly deposits me onto his lap.
My thigh presses against something hard.
I reach behind his head, undo his hair, and watch it tumble down to frame his face. When I push my fingers into his locks, he slides his palms under the hem of my T-shirt and stops just below the underside of my breasts.
His touch leaves me impossibly hot.
“Higher,” I urge, tugging on his hair.
He smirks and takes his sweet ass time as he inches his hands to palm my breasts.
My teeth dig into my bottom lip. When he curls his fingers over the top of my bra and tweaks a nipple, I can’t help but whine.
I’m aroused, my mind turning hazy, and the words are coming easier now. “After the department store…I started having dreams.”
He leans in, pressing his lips to my throat. “Yeah? What happens in them?”
“You kiss my neck, just like that. I love how your beard drags against my skin. It makes me crazy in the dream. You touch me over my clothes, but it’s not enough. I wake up all hot and bothered.”
He drops one hand, his fingers curling over the waistband of my sweats and brushing against the edge of my underwear. “That must be uncomfortable.”
“It is. I…ache. But when I try to get rid of it, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“The first time it happened, I spent half an hour trying to…make myself come.”
He makes a strangled sound. “Oh fuck.”
“But I couldn’t do it. I’ve never done it before without a vibrator. I guess I don’t know how.”
One hand cups my nape, and Ras sits up straighter, bringing our faces within an inch of each other. His ragged breath hits my cheeks.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll show you how.”
He kisses me.
This time, I’m not frozen. I don’t fight it.
This time, it feels right. Too damn right.
His tongue slips inside my mouth. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and plaster myself to his front. His erection presses to the apex of my thighs. The sudden pressure against my clit is enough to make me jump, but he presses me back down onto him and groans.
“Fuck, you even taste like peaches,” he mutters between kisses, his big hands roaming over my body.
I start to grind on his erection, the ache between my legs back on full force. He notices, and we’re suddenly moving. It takes me a moment to realize he’s lowering the back of his seat.
He cups my ass, kneading it for a moment. Then he fists the fabric of my sweats and makes a frustrated huff, like he finds them offensive. “Get these off. Lie down on me.”
I do. Somehow, we manage to get my pants off in an impressive display of teamwork.
“What about the thong—”
Ras rips it off me.
"Sit up," he commands and helps me get into an upright position while I'm straddling his waist.
He lifts my shirt over my head and tosses it away before moving to unclasp my bra. He drags the straps down my arms, his gaze flashing with hunger when he sees my bare breasts.
Embarrassment fans through me. I'm completely naked, while he's fully dressed, but when I raise one palm to cover myself, he takes it and pins it to my side.
"No," he rasps. "Let me get my fill. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
He caresses my skin, memorizing every dip and curve. He slides his rough hands up my bare thighs and then spreads my pussy lips open.
I suck in a harsh breath. There's a steady hum beneath my flesh.
His fingers find my center, and he groans. “Peaches, you’re soaked. Let me get a taste.”
The heat spreading across my skin ratchets up at that.
“Wh-what?”
His gaze is molten. “Not the time to be shy. Come up here and sit on my face.”
While I consider his invitation, he pinches my nipples and rolls his hips, creating delicious friction against my clit. “You want me to beg for that pussy? I want it now, Gemma. Right. Fucking. Now.”
I flush all over.
He drops his palms to squeeze my ass and then pushes me up his body, getting me where he wants me in no time.
“Lower,” he growls as I hover above him.
My breathing is ragged. “What if you can’t breathe?”
“That’s the idea.” He grips my upper thighs and tugs me down in one fell swoop.
His tongue drags over my slit, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. The pleasure is like nothing I’ve ever made myself feel before.
He fucks me with his tongue, taking turns between that and sucking on my clit.
Suddenly, that orgasm doesn’t seem all that out of reach.
“Shit,” I pant.
I slap my palm against the window. “Keep doing that.”
He makes a satisfied noise and squeezes my thighs harder.
It doesn’t take him long to work me into a state where all rational thoughts are gone.
My fingers are buried in his hair. I’m grinding on his face, forgetting all about my earlier fears of suffocation, and he slaps my ass, encouraging me to keep going.
I moan, my butt cheek stinging deliciously from the impact. Somehow, it only heightens the pleasure.
He slides one hand lower and pushes a thick finger inside of me while he circles my clit with his tongue.
It’s that novel intrusion that sends the wave building inside of me crashing.
I gasp through the orgasm, my body undulating above him. “Ras… Oh God.”
He keeps lapping at my pussy, gentler now, his eyes trained on me as I shiver and spasm.
When I finally stop moving, he gives me one more long, thorough lick, and then he drags me down his body.
His face lines up with mine, and he pulls me down for a kiss, forcing me to taste myself on his lips.
I feel myself falling deeper into this fantasy. One where there’s just me and him, and the rest of the world doesn’t matter.
He breaks the kiss, his eyes dark pools of lust as he stares at me.
“What other ideas do you have?” I whisper, sliding my hand between us and cupping him over the fabric of his sweatpants.
He shivers as I drag my hand up and down.
Not that I have any experience, but he seems…large. A shiver runs through me. What would it feel like to have him deep inside of me?
Something shifts in his expression, like he’s wondering the very same thing.
“My other ideas—” he swallows thickly, “—would all end with you being thoroughly ruined for your marriage.”
My pussy clenches even as reality starts to creep back in.
I’m still engaged to Rafaele. I’m still getting married. Until I talk to Vince, I’m not in any position to make other plans.
I don’t know if I should be looking for an exit route. I’m not even sure one exists.
That means Ras and I can’t cross that line.
The fantasy comes crashing down.
Ras stiffens as I sit up.
I disentangle myself from him and awkwardly slide back onto my seat. We’ve made the windows of the car all foggy.
Ras lifts up his seat and wipes the window to his left with his palm while I pull on my clothes.
We sit there in silence for another minute before he gives me a long, searching look and then turns on the car.
CHAPTER 20
RAS
I’m lying on the bed, staring at the chandelier hanging above my head.