The Woman in the Trunk

Fire blazed in her eyes as her hands planted against my chest, shoving me backward, catching me off-guard, making me almost go flat on the stairs behind me as she rushed off the landing.

Seeing Christopher's shadow near the front door, she darted down the hall instead of out, making a beeline for the kitchen that had a door out into the small garden out back.

I got there just as her hand landed on the knob, pulling it toward her. My palm slapped down on the door, slamming it back into place, my body pressing forward, pinning her against it.

Leaning down, I placed my lips near her ear. "Are you going to answer me, baby?" I asked, my hand slipping around her body, between her thighs, feeling her hips buck back against me as her breath caught, as her hips ground down on my fingers and palm, greedy for more, even if she refused to admit it.

"Fuck you," she snapped instead, but her voice was low, needy, her whole body taut, trying to hold herself back from grinding down against me again.

"You want that, don't you?" I asked, teeth nipping into her earlobe, drawing a whimper out of her as her hips finally rubbed against me again. "Admit it," I demanded, fingers gliding upward, slipping under the waistbands of her pants and panties, then moving downward. "Or I can just find out for myself," I added, fingers gliding down her slick pussy, my cock throbbing at the idea of pushing inside her.

But not yet.

Not until she was begging for it.

My thumb moved to her clit, working her in slow, soft circles until she was rocking against me, making low, mewling noises that made me damn near lose control right then and there.

Impatient, needing to see her reaction, I grabbed her with my free hand and turned her, pushing her back against the door, waiting for her chin to lift, her gaze to find mine.

Only then did my fingers ease down, then slam inside her. I got to watch as her head fell back, as her lips parted on a quiet moan, and her eyes fluttered closed as she took a steadying breath before they opened again, pinning me, all thoughts of resistance gone.

As if her pussy wasn't telling me everything I needed to know about how she felt. She was drenched, already dripping down my palm. Her walls tighten around my fingers, shamelessly demanding more.

But I wanted the words, damnit.

She wasn't getting anything until she admitted it.

"You want more, you're going to have to ask for it," I told her, watching as her eyes slit at me, pissed, but needy—her mind and body at odds.

"Fuck you."

"Eventually, baby. Right now, we're doing this," I told her, flicking my fingers inside her, making her thighs clench together, wanting more of it. "If you will just ask for it, that is," I added, thumb doing one quick graze over her clit.

"Lorenzo..."

"Yes?" I asked, doing another little flick.

Her breath hissed out from between her teeth as her eyes got even more heavy-lidded, as her walls tightened around me again.

"Damnit," she growled, hips moving in a circle.

"One word," I told her. "Just one word and I can put you out of your misery."

"Please." It was said under her breath, a barely audible plead.

But she said it.

I heard it.

That was all that mattered.

I used my fingers to fuck her. Hard. Fast. Relentless. My lips crashed down on hers, swallowing up the hisses that turned into whimpers that became moans as I drove her upward, as my fingers curled inside her, raking up against her top wall and rubbing against her G-spot.

My teeth sank into her pouty lower lip, digging in, pulling, as my thumb swiped across her clit, keeping her body guessing, driving it up, but not giving it the consistency she needed for release.

Not yet.

Not until she was practically crying for it. My teeth released her, my tongue moving inside to toy with hers, finding her eager, desperate even. For more. For everything.

I ripped my lips from hers, my gaze focused on her, watching her eyelids flutter open, cloudy with need.

I finger-fucked her harder, faster, my thumb starting working her clit relentlessly, getting the throaty cries I so desperately needed.

"Lorenzo," she cried, fingernails digging into my arms as her walls tightened hard around me for a second before they started to spasm around my fingers as she crashed through her orgasm.

It stole her moan.

Her breath.

The strength in her legs.

Leaving her gasping, hands digging into my arms, holding herself up as the waves kept crashing.

Her forehead pressed into my chest as she could finally draw in a breath that came back out on a moan as the last wave coursed through her.

And damned if everything in me didn't want to grab her shoulder, push her to the floor, have her take out my cock, bury it in her mouth, give me some of the relief from the clawing desire I'd just given her.