Page 55 of Souls and Sorrows

Furrowing my brow, I open my mouth to ask what he means, but then he’s grabbing my hands and moving, shoving my front into the side of the car. He presses himself fully into my back, twisting my arms so my wrists are locked in his grip above my ass, and his harsh breaths assault the side of my head, making me dizzy.

The blood in my veins hums, my body delighting at the sudden contact.

His free hand grazes the bare skin of my outer thigh, and my nerves draw in, tightening to the point of pain. I feel a breeze between my legs, brushing against the lace panties I have on, as he pushes up the skirt of my coat and the gold wrap dress underneath.

He frees one of my hands, guiding it around my hip so it’s in front of me. “Let me see what you let others do,” he rasps, his voice strained. The sound sends a spiral of arousal up my spine, embedding itself in the tissue.

“Why can’t you justtouchme?” I whine, shifting my hips and rubbing against the hard length of him.

Releasing my hand, he threads his fingers into my hair, tugging my head back and fitting his cheek against mine. “Because I want to see how good you can make yourself feel. I want to know if you need external stimulation or if it’s enough just to know I’m standing here, deliriously turned on and losing my fucking mind because of you.”

His hips rock into mine, meeting my backward thrust.

“Show me,” he commands, and my hand obeys, snaking its way between my thighs. “I can think of nothing I want more than to watch you come.”

My fingers work slowly, carefully, rubbing in tight, concentric circles over my clit. I’m wet, embarrassingly so, but I don’t have the forethought to consider that fact. I just focus on the feel of Cash behind me and the way his breathing grows strained the faster I work.

He leans back, keeping one hand at my waist to hold up my clothes. I don’t even care that we’re in public, or that my own mother could be watching from the building behind me, if she happened to look out.

Part of me hopes that she is, only because I know it’d make her furious to see me enjoying myself.

Dropping my forehead to the car, I let out a little moan as Cash lets go of my wrist, dragging his free hand down over the curve of my ass.

“That’s touching,” I say, breathless, my stomach tensing.

“I know. God forgive me, because it’s not even a fraction of what I wish I could be doing to you right now.”

The dark, ominous threat catches me off guard, considering this is the man who’s spent the last month virtually ignoring me and explaining at every opportunity how he can’t be with me like this.

Then again, I’ve been lying to myself every time I’ve said I don’t like him, so clearly, neither of us has a history of honesty.

Grunting, I reach behind me and take his hand, pulling it around and molding my fingers over his. I skate down across my belly, making it twitch, and then lower.

I feel him tense behind me.

“Ariana,” he says, starting to retreat.

Gritting my teeth, I guide our fingers down, spreading my thighs and inching inward. Our middle fingers slide in together, a tight fit that I feel right in my throat, and my pussy spasms around the sudden invasion.

If he won’t give in of his own accord, I’ll give him a little push.

His forearm comes up, slamming into the frame of the car as he curls himself over me. “Little Nightmare,” he whispers harshly, like he’s struggling to maintain control. “You’re being very bad.”

“I can’t help it,” I reply, pumping slowly, my mouth refusing to close as desire sweeps through me. My body buzzes, on fire with the feel of him around me and inside of me. “I needed some assistance, and technically, you aren’t doing it. My hand is outside of yours, so we aren’t breaking any rules.”

He lets me continue, apparently married to his convictions.

I add our ring fingers, swallowing as the stretch creates a delicious burning sensation.

“Fuck,” Cash mutters, turning his face into my shoulder.

I feel him shift behind me, and the sound of a zipper reverberates around us.

“Do you feel that?” I ask, thrusting in and out faster, my muscles clinging to us. “My pussy isdripping, Counselor, and it’s just for you.”

“Just for yourhusband,” he corrects. “You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you? Just want to be filled and fucked, right?”

My fingers tingle, anticipation clawing its way through my chest. I fully expect him to push into me, and the image has me unraveling like loose thread, coming around our fingers with the volatility of a volcanic eruption.

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