Leather & Lace
by Taylor Tryst
"Oh God," Luke growled. "I can smell you."
Cleo whimpered, unable to form tangible words as his fingers stroked their way over the crotch of her panties.
Her eyes clenched, she tossed her head from side to side as Luke’s fingers tickled and stroked over her pussy lips, one tiny garment separating his touch from her flesh.
Up and down. Up and down, he ran his fingertips, stroking the length of her pussy.
Cleo glanced into the rearview mirror and checked for traffic. There was a single car a few lengths back but no one so close that he couldn’t explore her body the way she longed for him to do.
The engine roaring, he pulled her panties to the side and gently dipped his fingers into the slit between her beautiful thighs.
"Jesus," he moaned. "You’re so fucking wet."
Cleo couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Her legs fell farther apart and all she could do was concentrate on the glorious feel of his fingers as they dipped into her body.
"Luuuuuke." Cleo cried out his name as he found her clit. He circled the tiny nub with the pads of his fingers, making it hard and swollen and feeling her nearly leap off the seat.
"Don’t stop," Cleo panted. She was begging and happy to keep it that way. They said there was a first time for everything and apparently it was true. She’d never begged a man for anything. Usually it was the other way around.
"Oh God." Cleo jumped and bucked her hips, her clit swollen and hard beneath his meticulous touch. She grabbed his hand, pushing it against her clit, trying to make him stop teasing her.
Swollen and ultrasensitive to touch, her clit was like a tiny crux of energy. She was almost unable to sit still. She wanted him to stop, wanted him to keep touching her, wanted to scream in ecstasy.
"You like that?" Luke growled. He moved slowly as if refusing to be hurried. "Tell me, baby."
"Fuck—yes," Cleo panted. She was moving her hips now, rotating them in the opposite direction to his fingertips. She ground her hips into his hand and spread her legs even wider.
Luke growled low in his throat, his eyes following the length of her legs, which she had propped on the dash. Her black stilettos were a foot apart, the needle-thin heels hanging off the ledge of the dash. "Pull up your skirt," he demanded.
Moving at his command, Cleo tugged on her skirt, moaning as his fingers worked her pussy.
"Open wider for me, baby. Come on." His voice was commanding and as her legs fell farther apart, Luke applied pressure to her swollen clit with his thumb.
"Mmmm," Cleo hummed. He was on a quest to make her come. She spread her legs, one thigh against the door. She slid her hand beneath the other leg and pulled her thigh back, opening to him.
Her panties cut high on her hips, they rode up her ass, spreading her cheeks wide apart as he worked her with his hand.
"Tell me," Luke demanded.
Cleo tossed her head from side to side, unable to speak, her fingers digging into the headrest and her thigh. She’d dressed to please him, to drive him crazy but she’d planned to be in control.
He’d swiftly changed all of that.
"Is this what you want?" Luke demanded, finally sliding a finger into her tight, wet pussy.