Page 73 of Fourth Wheel
“The best day,” she sighs as she leans into me and runs her nails up and down my thigh.
I catch her hand to stop her exploration—she knows what she fucking does to me. My body’s craving her too much right now to deal with her teasing. We’ve only got an hour until showtime, and I’ll be damned if we miss the show and she gets anything less than the perfect New York City weekend.
I interlace our fingers and peer out the window to distract myself.
“We’re almost to the Brooklyn Bridge,” I murmur, directing her attention to the window.
She shifts into my lap so she can see, then rolls down the window for a better view.
She sticks her head out the window and screams as the wind sweeps her hair all over her face. I tighten my hold on her waist on instinct, gripping her against my body until she’s fully back inside the vehicle.
“That’s incredible,” she exclaims, her eyes bright as she wiggles in my lap. “How well do you know this driver?” she purrs, running a hand through my hair in a way I know is intended to pull me under her spell.
The move is unnecessary. I’m completely enchanted by this girl.
“I’ve known Glenn my whole life. He drove us home from the hospital when we were born, in fact.” I can’t resist kissing up and down her throat as she melts into me.
“So we trust him?” she asks, tilting her head back and giving me better access as her fingertips trace along my neck. The vehicle slows, and I look out again to see we’ve just barely made it onto the bridge. Hopefully, there isn’t too much traffic between here and Times Square.
“I trust Glenn completely,” I proclaim, instantly missing her touch when she slides off my lap and makes her way toward the middle of the cab.
The Escalade has come to a full stop, so I don’t think much of Maddie not being buckled. That is, until she shifts to stand, hits the sunroof button, and straddles the two captain’s seats so half her body sticks up out of the vehicle.
“Dammit, Maddie,” I grunt, but my scolding lacks fire as I unbuckle and move forward to brace her. I wrap one arm around her bare legs, then reach over with the other hand to hit the intercom as she giggles and twists in my grasp.
“What seems to be the holdup, Glenn?” I grit out as I try not to react to her silky smooth legs just inches from my face. I have half a mind to yank her back into the car and smack her ass for this stunt.
“I love you, New York!!” she screams, prompting our driver to chuckle before he replies.
“Accident half a mile ahead on the bridge, Mr. Haas. GPS says we’ll be stuck here for a bit longer, but we should make it to the theatre with time to spare.”
I run a hand up the back of one of her legs, teasing along the hem of her little black dress as she continues to holler out the sunroof.
“Donotmove this car without warning me first,” I command through the intercom before raising the privacy screen.
“Yes, sir.” Glenn chuckles again before the intercom goes silent.
I release my hold on her and make sure her feet are balanced on the seats before running my other hand up her leg. She freezes at my movement—then she peers down at me. Predictably, the look in her eye tells me she’s up for whatever version of trouble I’m willing to give her.
“Brace yourself, baby girl. We’re about to give NYC a different kind of show.”
I shuck off my jacket, then roll up my dress shirt sleeves before hiking up the skirt of her dress to expose her to me. She’s not wearing any underwear, and the sight of her perfect cunt has me straining in my pants.
I kneel between the seats she’s standing on, wrapping both arms around her body and digging my hands into the back of her thighs. When I bring my mouth to her pussy, she quivers; it’s the most satisfying feeling to know I affect her just as much as she affects me.
Her whimper from outside the sunroof is barely audible when I blow against her center, and her pleasure surges down my face when I pierce her with my tongue. But it’s the subtle little roll of her hips—her silent demand formore—that has me digging my fingers into the flesh of her ass and sucking her clit into my mouth with such intensity she grinds against me.
I loosen my grip on her legs and plunge two fingers into her heat, then grunt in satisfaction when I feel her desire gush around my hand. Her legs are shaking, but we’re on a time limit. I stroke her G-spot in rhythm with the way I suck her clit. We’re a perfect orchestra of motion as she fucks my face and claims what’s hers.
When I feel the first flutters of her release, I rise up higher on my knees, determined to fucking get her there by any means necessary. When I peek up to check on her, she’s massaging her tits through her dress—in full view of literally anyone walking or biking along the bridge—her head thrown back in ecstasy as she races toward the finish line.
I nip at her clit, then she shatters, crying out, pounding on the roof of the car, and pulsating around my hand harder than I’ve ever felt her come.
“Open your eyes, baby girl,” I demand when I finally move my mouth away from her pussy. I stroke her G-spot through her orgasm, just how she likes, watching up through the sunroof in reverence as she takes in the view of the Manhattan skyline with the sun setting in the distance.
Even when she comes down, she doesn’t get back in the car, instead gazing down at me with that wicked grin that lights me up inside. That look is everything. I’ll do everything I can over these last few weeks together to make her smile like that again and again.
She reaches down to run her palm along my chin and mouth, wiping the evidence of her pleasure off my face before I snatch her hand and lick it clean. She doesn’t move away immediately—instead caressing me with tender care. I lean into her touch, and she strokes my face, her fingers tracing my jaw and cupping my cheek in a way that feels intimate and sincere.
