Taste of Pleasure (Short Pleasure Collections)

My Innocent Chauffeur 2

“I’ve watched you grow into a little f*****g taste,” he growled in between his kisses. His hand was under my dress already, his fingers finding my bare skin, tracing the curve of my hip. “Parading around without panties? You wanted me to see and you were ready for this.”

“I wanted you to touch!” I cried out, arching my back against him.

He hooked his fingers inside me deep, stroking that sensitive spot that made my eyes roll back.

“Goddamn. You're so wet.”

“All for you,” I whispered, my voice trembling with need.

He lifted me slightly, pushing his pants down just enough for me, and he let his c**k slap against my bare heat. Thick and heavy, already dripping precum, standing at attention, demanding to be fed. The sight of him made my mouth water, a primal instinct taking over. I reached out, my fingers wrapping around his shaft, feeling the heat, the pulse, the enormity of him.

“f**k,” I gasped, my eyes widening.

“Your c**k is so huge.”

He didn't respond, just aligned himself and slid inside in one long, punishing thrust. I arched, a cry tearing from my throat, a mix of pain and pleasure at the same time. It felt like he was filling every empty space, claiming me, marking me as his. I was stretched, stretched wide enough, my body adjusting to the intrusion, my walls clamping down around him, trying to pull him in deeper.

“Shhh,” he whispered against my throat, his lips hot against my skin. “Unless you want someone to come find us like this.” That only made it rain harder outside, the cold seeping into the car, but the fire between us was far hotter.

He bounced me on his c**k like the car was his bed, my hands braced on the dashboard. The leather creaked, the wood swayed, the whole world seemed to blur. My moan was muffled by his shoulder, a sound of pure ecstasy. He grabbed my throat, firm but not too tight, forcing my eyes to his.

“I used to imagine your legs spread in the backseat.”

“You mean like this?” I reached behind the backseats, spreading myself wide enough for him.

“More like it,” he said.

He groaned, biting my bottom lip and thrusting in harder. I moaned loud enough Fuck..... yeah l......

I love how you're f*****g me...

I let him know I was about to c*m. before I knew it again.

I came fast, clenching around him, my body twitching with the force of it. But he didn't stop. He pulled out, spun me around. Bent me over the center console and stowed back in.

“Now I will f**k you like you always wanted it.”

He was feral, pounding into me harder in and out while gripping my hair with one hand and pressing the other to the foggy windshield for leverage. The windshield blurred, a streak of color, my own vision blurring with pleasure. This time I couldn't speak or scream. I only moaned, I felt it. So hot, wet, and full.

He grown, about to also c*m. He finally did.

When he came, he didn't pull away; instead, he just buried himself deep, groaning like it physically hurt to stop. His seed filled me in slow pulsing waves, a warm tide that I felt deep inside, a marking of ownership.

Silence followed only with heavy breath. I collapsed against the seat shaking in satisfaction. The rain continued to hammer against the roof, a steady, comforting drumbeat.

“If you say one word of this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“I'll be in the backseat tomorrow,” I interrupted with a smile and with no panties. I watched his face carefully, looking for a crack in his composure, but he just let out a low, dark chuckle. It vibrated through his chest, rattling mine. “You’re trouble, Miss Olivia. You know that?” “And you’re going to be in trouble if you aren't waiting for me tomorrow,” I shot back, my voice breathless but defiant.

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached into the back of the car and grabbed my clutch bag, tossing it onto the passenger seat. Then, he adjusted his pants, tucking himself back into place, though the zipper didn't quite close over his still-swollen arousal. He turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. The rain seemed to intensify, slashing against the windshield like tiny needles, blurring the world outside into a kaleidoscope of grey and gold.

“Hold on,” he said simply.

Before I could fully settle in the seat, he shifted the gear into drive. We lurched forward, the car gripping the wet pavement with a squeal of tires. The drive back to the supermarket was a blur of headlights and rain streaks. He drove with the same intense focus he always did, the same disciplined posture, but there was something different now. The air in the car was charged, heavy with the scent of rain, leather, and s*x. I watched the back of his head, his neck corded tight, a muscle jumping beneath his skin.

I looked down at my dress. The hem was rucked up, exposing the tops of my thighs, and there was a smear of something wet and white on the inner thigh of my panties. I brought my fingers to my mouth, tasting him, and smiled. I still couldn't get over how good he f****d me up. It was like a fever dream, a moment of pure, unadulterated desire that had never happened before, but felt like it had been building for a lifetime.

We pulled up to the supermarket’s entrance, the automatic doors sliding open with a ding. He stopped the car, but didn't turn it off immediately. He turned to me, his face unreadable in the dim light of the dashboard. “You should clean up a bit before you go in,” he said, his voice raspy, low, and rough. “You look a mess, Miss Olivia. And I’m not sure you want people to know what I’ve done to you.”

I looked at myself in the rearview mirror. My lips were swollen, my eyes wide and dilated, and there was a flush spreading across my cheeks and down my neck. I looked wrecked. I looked like a woman who had just been thoroughly and ruthlessly taken. It was a look I had never worn before, and it was intoxicating.

“Maybe I want them to know,” I murmured, running a hand through my mussed hair. “Maybe I want everyone to know that Mr. Drew, the quiet innocent driver, is the one who made me this way.”