“I think the bra should go first.” Cal played with the strap, adjusted it to one side, then, bowing his head, ran his tongue across her neck. Wrapping his hands around her upper torso, he deftly unsnapped her bra and slid it from her shoulders. Slowly.

As the cups fell away from her breasts, Monica watched him, watched every expression that drifted across his face. He appeared almost reverent as he peeled it down her arms, exposing her fully.

“You’re beautiful everywhere, Monica Campbell.”

He made her feel beautiful. The way he looked at her, the way he cupped her breasts and stared at them, like they were the most amazing things he’d ever seen. When he scraped his thumbs across her nipples, Monica ran her short nails along his forearms.

“You like it harder than that, don’t you, love?”

There was something so hot about being with a man who knew exactly what she needed and was willing to give it to her. Biting her lip, she didn’t speak, merely nodded. So Cal obliged. He squeezed the underside of her nipples. Gently at first, then gradually Cal kneaded them harder in his big hands. Monica loved this rough play. It heightened her arousal, left her craving more.

Pulling and twisting the engorged points, Cal eased off, then started all over again. He worked her up until she was so wet, so needy, she could hardly think.

Monica’s eyes drifted shut as she tilted her chin upward. That felt delicious, his hands on her, but still, she wanted more. “Your turn. Shorts off.”

“Not yet. I’m not done with you.” He released her nipples and bent toward her, taking one between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make Monica cry out. Then he lapped at it before latching his mouth over her breast and sucking.

Monica’s hands ran mindlessly over Cal’s upper back. Her pussy was so ready for him. Need. Her entire body hummed with it. “Cal.” He continued to suck, and she felt the pull of it all the way to her clit. “Calum.”

Finally, he raised his head. His cheeks were ruddy, his lips parted. Monica planted her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down for a kiss. Cal’s tongue brushed against hers. She sucked it, nibbled at it. Cal responded by biting her upper lip, groaning deep in his chest. She liked that she had this effect on him, glad she wasn’t the only one feeling this powerful lust that had taken over all reason.

Finally, Cal pulled away. Panting, he jerked his boxer shorts off, releasing his thick, long dick. Monica stared at it. She wanted to touch, lick, stroke every single inch of him. She wanted her hands on that warm, smooth skin. Wanted to wrap herself around him and breathe him in.

Grasping his cock with one hand, Monica rubbed the soft skin along his hard shaft, following a thick vein up to the tip. A drop of precum beaded at the surface. Brushing it with her finger, Monica spread it over the head. She removed her hand, and glancing up at him, worked that same fingertip in her mouth, twirling it along her tongue, her eyes wide.

“Monica.” She loved the way he bit out her name, his impatient, guttural voice striking a chord deep inside her.

Placing her hand on the base of his cock, she knelt before him. Lowering her head, she swirled her tongue across the broad tip.

Cal scrunched his eyes closed. A tic in his jaw betrayed a shaky grasp on his self-control. He was close, and she’d barely touched him. Still, she couldn’t help but tease him a little more.

“Do you like that?” Rhetorical question. She smiled as she lapped upward, along the length of him. Then, taking him in her mouth, she sucked gently. Cal’s cock twitched against her lips.

“Darling, I have plans,” he said. “Plans that involve taking you from behind, watching you in the window as your tits sway back and forth.”

The tip of Monica’s tongue darted over his slit, granting her another taste of salty liquid. She still hadn’t relinquished her grip at the base. She liked feeling this way, playful and powerful, while Cal stood almost helpless, a slave to her mouth, her hands. She could take him now, like this. But she wanted him inside of her, wanted to feel this magnificent cock ramming in and out of her, to feel him from behind. And as he watched her in the window’s reflection, she’d be watching him. She wanted to be naughty with him, possibly revealing herself as he took her in full view of anyone who could be walking by.

She let go of him and rose to her feet. “You should make plans more often.”

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all bloody day.” He leaned down and nipped her chin. “I love that little cleft.” Then he snatched her around the waist and lifted her up, until her face was level with his. “Kiss me.”

Wrapping her arms and legs around him, Monica complied. With Cal’s cock wedged between them, she planted her lips on his, stroking her tongue into his mouth. She’d had boyfriends in the past who didn’t like to kiss after she’d gone down on them. Cal wasn’t like that. He was earthy, sensual.

She broke away. “Condom?”

“Right.” He stared hard at her lips.

Monica swept her hands across his shoulder blades. His skin—tanned and smooth over powerful, striated muscles—warmed her palms. Monica angled her head and licked that tattoo, curling her tongue along his taut bicep. She smiled up at him. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you working on the Mustang.”

“You should have done. It’s quite an icebreaker. The condom’s in my trousers. That means I’m going to have to put you down.”

“But you’ll get to fuck me. Seems like a good tradeoff.”

“A very good tradeoff. You’ll have to unwrap your legs from around my waist, though.”

Monica stroked his cheek. “In a second. One more kiss.”

“One more,” he agreed.

There was nothing gentle about it, and Monica needed that. Needed the way he devoured her, his tongue thrusting against hers, his lips almost brutal in their intensity. He sucked her bottom lip as he lifted his head. Finally, he let it go. “All right now, legs down.”

Monica unwrapped her calves from his lean hips, and Cal dropped her to the ground. He snagged his pants, quickly dug in the pocket, and removed a condom and rolled it on. Then taking her shoulders, he spun her around, just as he’d promised, and marched her forward.

Monica searched the building across the way. No lights, no sign of movement. This was insane. Insanely hot. She glanced at herself, barely recognizing the naked, sexy woman with messy hair and puffy lips.

“Bend over, Miss Prim. Hands on the glass,” Cal ordered. Monica obeyed, and with her feet in a wide stance, she bent over, but kept her head tilted up so she could see him. This was the craziest thing she’d done in years, and it scared her. But titillated too. Cal did this to her—freed that part of her she never thought she’d see again.

In the glass, Cal’s reflection looked like a naked, hot specter. Meeting her gaze, he ran his palm down her spine—then he gave her ass a not so light tap.

Monica shrieked at the unexpected swat. She liked it. The afterburn caused the walls of her pussy to tighten. “After this, you won’t be able to call me Miss Prim.”

Without warning, Cal thrust once, burying himself deep inside her. Grasping her hips with both hands, he yanked her backward. “Oh, you’ll have to do more than this to lose the nickname.”

Monica had no idea what he had in mind, but she was down for it. The tendons in his neck strained as he began to move, slowly.

“You feel so good.” He bit out the words.

“Faster.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Damn it, Cal. You took it slow last time.”

His smile rose a notch. “And I’m going to take it slow this time too.”

Keeping his steady pace, Cal pumped his cock inside of her, drew it out, then slid back home. The friction drove her crazy, and yet he never changed the momentum. She didn’t know how he could stand it, but she’d get even. He was punishing her for some reason, and she’d return the favor. One of these times, Cal would be the one begging her for release. Monica was going to enjoy that.