Emily's back arched as she pushed against me, a whimpering moan clawing up her throat—"Nnngh—fuck, wait—we have to move." Her hips twitched, grinding against my thigh like she couldn't help herself. "Texas. Now. And we need a new car—Victor's got eyes everywhere, and if he sees us—"
She stepped away, but not before I felt it—the heat radiating off her, the way her thighs trembled. The Hand of Arousal was eating her alive, her willpower fraying like a rope about to snap.
She could still talk, still think—but her body? Betraying her. Her nipples were hard little points under her top, and her panties were soaked through the fabric. I could smell her—sweet, musky, desperate.
"Go," I rumbled, adjusting my cock through my pants. "Grab your shit. But don't think for a second I won't fuck you the moment we're safe."
Her breath hitched. "Promise."
