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neck.
    He kisses me softly at first, and then bites me gently. My fingers tangle in his short, tussled hair. I kick my heel around his naked back and pull him tighter against me, his cock pressing tight against my vulnerable cunt. He traces his lips along the lining of my neck, with short, wet puckers igniting me from within until he reaches my lips, and just when he’s about to kiss me, I shift away from him again.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “No kissing,” I beg, reminding him of my stance on the issue from before. “It’s a line—“
    “That you can’t cross.” His chest heaves, his breath hot, rough, and steamy. “I get it.”
    Knowing he can’t kiss my lips, he buries his face between my breasts and runs one palm underneath my tight bra, until he’s cupping me with one strong grip. My legs twist around his back and I pull him closer to me, close enough that the entire space between us is evaporated. Warm body against warm body. Parched lips against my skin.
    His hand crawls from beneath my bra and travels south, caressing a path across my stomach and down my hips, and then maneuvering to the inside of my thigh. My legs widen to allow him access as he finds my opening and pushes his palm against my most vulnerable spot. I cry soft moans against his neck, reveling in the empowering serenity of wanting and being wanted.
    He runs a circle around me, taunting me and teasing me. He wants to make me scream, to beg, and that’s just what I do.
    “Fuck me,” I plead. “Stop teasing me and fuck me.”
    One finger sinks into me until he’s knuckle deep, and then somehow, he pushes further in. Soon enough, another finger joins and he works me thoroughly, stretching me wide and preparing me for the fullness of his aching erection.
    He swivels on his knees, the position he’s found himself in can’t be comfortable, but it beats exposing ourselves for anyone to see. He pushes my legs apart, and braces one hand beside my head, burying his fingers deep in the side of the seat to steady himself.
    This is it. The moment of no return.
    I glance down to see him pawing at his cock, and then ripping a foil condom wrapper in his mouth. I hadn’t even thought of protection in the midst of this dangerous seduction, but thankfully one of our heads is in working order. Though, maybe that’s because he has two. I’m hilarious, I’m aware.
    He rolls the condom onto himself with precision and agility, pinching the tip. He’s a seasoned pro, and I’m an amateur, despite an inkling in my stomach that I am the older of us two.
    His eyes shift to me, dark and heavy, ready and waiting. They speak to me just the same as if his lips were moving, questioning if I’m ready.
    “I’m ready,” I whisper to him.
    His eyelids flash over his eyes in a quick blink, and my hand caresses his sweaty cheek. He pulls me in with his glare, and I’m too lost in his innocent, but raw, beauty that when he presses himself against me, I’m not prepared.
    I throw my head back and dig my nails into his back as he sinks into me. Slowly, his cock rocks into me, tearing me apart from the inside. He’s thick. Thicker than my husband. Almost too thick, but this pain is only temporary.
    My pussy swallows him whole until his pelvis rocks against mine, and he holds himself still, his biceps quivering and his eyes engaged in a struggle to stay open, but for some reason he wants to watch me. But I can’t do the same.
    Before I can protest, he’s pulling out. Slow and steady, like a bow being primed until the head of his cock meets the warm air. And then back in again, separating me as he rocks into me, faster and a little harder.
    I close my eyes, trying to enjoy the ride for what it is. But I can’t keep them closed, no matter how hard I try. He’s making love to me, and I just want fucked until I don’t feel a thing.
    He reads my mind, another display of his unmistakable ability to do so. He situates himself above me as he continues gentle thrusts,