Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 51

Chapter 51

“Look at the house,” he breathed, his voice low and rough in my ear. “Look at that shadow in the window. That must be your husband. Standing there, wandering where you are. And here you are, riding my cock, your pussy dripping on my lap.”

I looked. The shadow was still there. Motionless, watching

The sight of it, the thought of Julian watching without knowing what he was watching, made me clench around Dominic’s cock.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “I felt that. Squeeze my cock again Show me how much you love being fucked while your husband watches.”

I clenched again, deliberately, tightening my inner muscles around him, and he let out a low, guttural sound that made me feel powerful.

“Turn around,” he ordered. “I want to see your face.”

I lifted myself off him and turned in the cramped space, my knees finding the seat on either side of his hips. I faced him again, my hands braced on his shoulders, and I guided his cock back inside me.

The angle was different now. Shallower, but fuller. His cock pressed against my G-spot with every thrust, and I gasped, my eyes fluttering closed.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I opened my eyes.

“I want to see your face when you come on my cock.”

He began to thrust upward, meeting my movements, his hips driving into mine from below. The rhythm was fast and deep, his cock slamming into me with a force that made the car rock.

“Yes,” he breathed, watching my face. “That’s it. I can feel you getting tighter. You’re close.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“I want to feel you come. I want your pussy to squeeze my cock until I can’t think straight.”

His hand found my clit again, rubbing frantically, and I shattered.

My orgasm tore through me like a wave, my body convulsing, my pussy clenching around his cock in violent, rhythmic pulses. I cried out, his name on my lips, my nails digging into his shoulders as I rode out the pleasure.

He kept thrusting through it, drawing out every pulse, and when I finally stilled, gasping for breath, he lifted me off him again.

“Not done,” he growled. “I need to be inside you when I come.”

He pushed the driver’s seat back as far as it would go, creating just enough space. Then he guided me to turn around, facing the passenger door, my hands braced against the dashboard. I was on my knees on the seat, my ass facing him, my dress bunched around my waist.

He positioned himself behind me, his hand on my hip, and guided his cock to my entrance. He pressed the head against my wet folds, teasing me, sliding through my slickness before pushing inside.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he entered me. “This view. Your ass. My cock sliding into your wet pussy. Fucking perfect.”

He began to move, thrusting into me with a steady, relentless rhythm. His hand gripped my hip, pulling me back onto his cock with every stroke, and his other hand braced against the window behind me. The angle was so deep I felt him in my stomach, in my throat, in every nerve ending of my body.

“Come for me. Come on my cock. Let me feel you.”

I came with a scream, my body shuddering, my pussy clenching around him in wave after wave of pleasure. He kept thrusting through it, his rhythm growing erratic, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

“Fuck, Celeste. I’m coming. I’m going to fill this pussy up.”

He thrust deep, once, twice, and then he was coming, his body shuddering against mine, his groan long, and low in my ear. I felt his cock pulse inside me, felt the hot rush of his cum flooding my pussy, and I moaned at the feeling of it; at the completeness of it, at the way he held me against him as he emptied himself into me.

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