Tristan

I have to fight to keep my jaw from dropping, and my pussy warms at the ease with which he stakes his claim on me. It was a stupid lie, but my mind can’t help but flash to the thought of him taking me as his wife, fucking me silly after a honeymoon…

For a moment the waitress looks ever so slightly downcast to find that Tristan is apparently taken, but then she just squeals with delight and says excitedly, “Oh my goodness gracious, how sweet! Can I see the ring? How wonderful!”

My heart sinks as I realize the flaw in Tristan’s plan — we have no ring — but without missing a beat he simply replies, “Oh, it’s being specially constructed in Monaco as we speak! Only the very best for my princess!”

Damn, he’s good at this. The waitress looks to me with a knowing wink and smiles. “Oh, you’re a lucky girl, you know!”

I blush, turning my face aside and giggling. “Oh believe me, I know!”

About an hour and a huge waffle with Congratulations! spelled out in chocolate chips later, we’re speeding the rest of the way to Crescent City.

“So what was that for?” I ask as I prop my bare feet up on the dashboard, stretching out in the front seat and looking at Tristan with a sparkle in my eye. “We already had the drinks, what was the second lie for?”

“Just a bit of fun, love,” he says, grinning over at me, but there’s something more to his tone. “And what can I say, I only want the best for my partner in crime, and I think you’ve earned it.”

I feel my face flush, and my eyes linger on him. He reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it softly and brushing his thumb over the top of my hand.

“You don’t seem like the type who has marriage on his mind, is all,” I say, still feeling warm between my legs at the thought of him claiming me as his bride. It’s a stupid thing to think about, but I can’t help myself. He started it.

He gives a wolfish grin and laughs, but then his hand moves from my hand to my thigh, stroking over it softly. I feel electrified at his touch, and one of my legs goes back down to the floorboards to give him easy access, almost an unconscious movement.

“What can I say?” he says with a tilt of his head. “I’m not the most tied-down person in the world, but maybe I’m not looking for someone to tie me down.”

His hand squeezes my sensitive inner thigh, then creeps up to my shorts, where it toys at the waistline until his fingers find the button. My heart starts to flutter, and I bite my lip. There’s nobody on the road but us right now, but the roof is down, wind whipping around us freely. We’re exposed. Yet I don’t stop him as he flicks the button open and feels the warm, sensitive skin under my pants, wetting his lips.

“Maybe I’m just looking for someone who’s willing to take a risk with me,” he says, his voice huskier than before, and as if on command, I feel my pussy wetting at his presence. The sheer command he has over my body is incredible. “Maybe I’m really looking for a partner in crime, princess.”

I smile through my quick breaths as I grip the side of the car. His fingers are searching down. I feel almost embarrassed. He’s going to feel how wet I am, know how excited the thought of being wedded to him made that primal instinct he awakened in me get. He touches it, and I hear a low gro

wl as his index and middle finger start swirling around.

“Anyone could see us, Tristan,” I breathe, his arms are long and strong enough to reach me with ease. There’s nothing I could do to squirm away from him.

“Well, doll,” he says, flashing that boyish grin at me, “we want to put on a show if we want to pass ourselves off as engaged, don’t you think?”

My pussy clenches and pulses as he reaches my clit, and I let out a soft whimper. His touch is at once so terrifying and so exciting to me. He starts driving faster as he starts to rub my clit, the wetness making it all the easier for him to do what he wishes with me. I’m a toy in his hands, and damn him, he’s enjoying watching me squirm and blush there in the car, unable to tear myself from the pleasure he’s inflicting on me.

The swirling of his fingers gets stronger and steadier as he finds a good rhythm, and I start to let myself loose with it. It’s uninhibited as the wind around us.

“Take your shirt off,” he orders me, and I look at him with wide eyes. “Your bra, too. You like this, doll, that much is obvious. It’s the freedom you like. But you’ve really got to experience it—give up everything to it.”

I hesitate, biting my lip. I had my rebellious streaks, but I was a good girl, all in all. Going topless while driving down the interstate and getting fingered wasn’t part of that picture. But something in me drives me to give in, and I can’t ignore it any longer.

I slip my shirt off, stuffing it under my seat, and I can feel his eyes on me, flitting away from the road to drink in every curve on my body. I’m not used to feeling so desired, but even as he makes it so fucking hard for me to get my bra off while his finger hooks under my cunt and starts stroking my inner walls, painfully slowly, it turns me on all the more.

I glance over at him, and good god, his cock is swollen and threatening to burst out of his pants. It makes my cunt wetten around his finger even more.

He’s just joking though, isn’t he? My head swims as he strokes my cunt as if he’s known it as long as I have. I can tell there’s real desire in his eyes, and it makes me feel ecstatic all over. To have the attention of this massive, gorgeous man just seems to unreal, but here he is, threatening to make a bride out of me.

And I can’t say that I would turn him down—I did just strip for him in public on command, after all. There’s so much wrong about this, but as I feel my abdomen tensing, I don’t deny that it’s a wrongness my body has been craving too long to be denied any longer

I let out a cry on the highway that gets lost in the wind as he makes me cum, my legs desperately trying to clench shut and shy away from his torture, but he doesn’t give in.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t remember your old life, Sienna,” he says as I writhe under his hand, that lone hand able to do so much to me. “If I can do this much to you with a little joke, what do you think I can do to you with all that I’ve got?”

“Anything you want,” I say, the words spilling off my tongue unbidden, and he hooks his finger inside me, dragging it along the walls of my cunt and hitting the most sensitive spots in me, and I come again, my cheeks burning hot as my jaw hangs open and I massage my nipples. It’s so animalistic, keeping me out in the open like this while he does whatever he wants with me, but I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it. I don’t care who sees us. I want the world to know I’m his.

But finally, he withdraws his fingers, putting them in his mouth and drawing them out clean. “You’re something else, Sienna,” he muses, the rumble in his chest palpable.