Page 97 of Hide From Me
She smiled, but between every breath, she kissed me, and no words seemed to follow. I didn’t think anyone could break me, but she made me bleed with just a single look. I’d just been too stupid to see it.
And now? Well, there was no turning back.
“Rylee, we should go in.”
Not that I wanted to feel her sweet, warm, little cunt leaving me. Fuck, there was just something I couldn’t understand about her. How was she so perfect?
“Yeah. Go in. Sure. Let me, just.”
She moaned as I helped her move off of me. I watched her shimmy back to her seat, watching the shimmer of my come between her thighs as she fought to pull down that dress.
“We need to wash off this blood, for one. Burn these clothes.”
She looked down at herself for what I’d guess was the first time.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt.”
My brow furrowed as I looked at her.
“I ruined my own fucking shirt. And that dress? Well, I’d rather burn it than have you wear it ever again.”
She was still trying to catch her breath as I slid my cock back into my jeans and zipped them up. I got out on a steadier legs than what she seemed to have. Walking to her side of the car, I opened the door.
“I guess that’s one way of breaking in your new car.”
I held my hand out for her, and she took it.
“I guess I don’t hate it,” she said.
I pulled her out of the car and was closing the door when she turned back.
“Wait. I saved this.”
She reached in and flashed me her sweet ass as she did. I couldn’t be blamed for grabbing her, and she didn’t seem upset as goosebumps covered her skin under my touch.
“Find what you needed,” I asked.
She pressed her ass against me and stood up. I let her lean into me, my hands running over her stomach.
“Ready now, blossom?”
I couldn’t stop the rumble of a small laugh.
“I love how you are so responsive to me.”
Her neck was exposed and so easy to dip into. My tongue darted out as I tasted her skin.
“Cas, let’s go in.”
Her ass pressed against to my crotch, and damn if I didn’t want her again.
“Yeah. Let’s go. Too many cameras in this garage.”
I pulled her behind me, noticing that she had the jacket in her free hand.
“That’s yours,” I said, nodding to where she held it.
“But it’s yours. It looks expensive.”