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feel him, hard, gratifyingly so, close to where it hurt. I shifted my hips and pressed against him, and we both groaned.
    “Shit, girl, you drive me crazy. Why do you want to hurt me? No, don’t answer…” And he thrust up against me hard, while his huge hands dug into my ass and held me against him. He got bigger if that were possible, and I could feel him pulsing against me.
    “Hold on,” and he bit my neck and he pressed the intercom button to the front of the long black car. “John,”—I was amazed he could remember the driver’s name, I could barely remember my own, and he was tickling my nipples with one of his fingers while he spoke. “Look, slight change of plans, could you just drive around for a while, then we’ll go to the hotel. Ok?” There was a mumbled assent. “Great. Thanks.”
    He turned his face back to me. “Now,” he muttered, “as they say, where were we?” He began moving against me, in a slow almost off time swaying back and forth, every roll of his hard cock and his hips, going over my clit and making me jump.
    I hissed out a curse.
    He licked a trail from my breast to my ear, and bit down on the nape of my neck, making me shudder against him and moan. He whispered in my ear. “Why would I need all those stories, if this is so good like it is? More importantly, why would you want anyone else? No, I’m not going to ask. For now, we’ll do this the way it plays.”
    And he pulled me to him suddenly, forcefully, and licked my mouth, his tongue wet and slow. He was almost muttering to himself now. “I can’t help it, I want to fuck you, just like this.” His voice was almost pleading, and his eyes looked deep set and lost. He licked my mouth again, and bit gently on my lower lip. “Say yes. Little words.” Then he moved me slowly away from him, and started to unbuckle his belt.
    I moved off him, and he looked confused for a moment. But I was all business. I couldn’t wait to give him what he wanted. I needed him and his eyes on me. I sat on the seat and quickly took off my boots, and started pulling off my jeans.
    His voice was dark again. “That’s it, darling. Strip for me.”
    The sound rolled through me like a wave. I wanted to make him want me. If teasing him did that, then I could tease. I left my panties on and pulled off my shirt, slowly, and dropped it behind me. I rolled down the straps of my bra over my shoulders, one at a time, and ran my hands over my breasts, pinching my nipples until it hurt, first through the satin, then pulling the cups down, exposing them to his view.
    He sucked in his cheeks and whistled. His hands went instantly to the zip on his jeans.
    “No.” I barely recognized my voice. He looked up. “No, not yet—when I tell you.”
    His mouth opened into a slow, slightly dangerous smile. But his hands stopped. I carried on. “I want to see you naked.”
    He twitched in his seat, then almost as though he couldn’t help it, he opened his mouth, and ran his tongue carefully over his upper lip, leaning forward, his eyes black. “You? You’re telling me what to do? What is it, the English air? Or did they feed you something on the plane?”
    I laughed. Out on the edge for my whole life. I was going to tell him what I wanted.
    “Shut up, Tristan. Skin.”
    He licked his lips again, and gave me a look that made me wonder if he wasn’t just going to leap on me from the seat there and then. But he kept his eyes locked with mine, and breathed out.
    “I like it,” he muttered, as he bent down, his huge hands skimming over his body to his feet.
    He started with his black leather boots, then removed his jacket. He pulled off his vintage t-shirt and then his chest was bare, pale and creamy, his skin begging to be touched. He pulled open his belt and leaned over, pulling his jeans down over his ass. He stopped to peel them over his calves, they were that tight, and finally pulling them over his long, elegant feet. He sat there in his underwear, hip