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“You're all wet already,” he whispers. “Don’t you like danger, Miss Vitelli?” A finger gently caresses my clit before pinching it hard when I don’t reply. “I asked you a question, answer me.”

I feel my attention waver for a second, and tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “If I’m all wet, you should do something about it…” I manage to let out as my breath is cut short when I feel two of his fingers pushing inside of me.

“So mouthy…”

I don’t know how to reply, I don’t know if I can even talk right now. I’m over-stimulated, between driving, his rough hands teasing me, and his mouth whispering dirty things to distract me.

And it makes him laugh to see me distraught like this.

His fingers move harder inside me, and he stops kissing my neck for a moment. I hear him breathing hard against me, like he’s also going through the same thing as me.

Fuck…

The music is way too loud, the bass vibrating through my chest, and I don’t turn it down. If anything, I press harder on the accelerator.

As if speed could push me closer to the release.

I follow the movements of his fingers as they fuck me faster and faster. And I make the mistake of looking down for a fraction of a second. I catch his hand tensing as he pushes deeper into me, veins standing out under his skin, and my body reacts before I can stop it.

My legs tremble, tightening slightly around his hand, like I’m the only one holding myself together.

The wind rushes through the open windows, my hair whipping across my face, and the road runs too close to the edge of the cliff, too close. But I don’t slow down.

I can still feel everything.

His presence.

His voice.

The mark he left there, beneath my skin, as if my body refuses to return to normal. My breathing won’t calm down. It only gets worse, uneven, shallow, and I tighten my grip on the wheel just to stay straight, and to keep control of something, anything.

He laughs, satisfied by the effect this has on me.

“Look at you, moaning and whimpering,” he says calmly, like we aren’t a few meters from the edge. His mouth brushes my ear next. “You're begging me to fuck you right now and yet, you still want me to believe that you’re focused on driving?”

I barely turn my head toward him. “Shut up,” I say, but there’s no real bite to it anymore, just breath, heat, and the faintest curve of a smile I can’t hide. “You’re not exactly hating this either.”

There’s a small second of silence, then he laughs breathlessly and grabs my neck, caressing my pulse softly.

“You really don’t understand what you do to me, do you?” he says. “Having you this close while you talk like that might make me come in my fucking pants.”

I finally look at him properly, and I smile a little wider. “Sounds like a you problem.”

He leans in closer, enough to break my focus again. “Keep soaking my hand like that, and you’ll see if it’s just a me problem.”

The road blurs for half a second, I correct too quickly, the car shifting way too close to the edge before I catch it.

My grip tightens on the wheel immediately after, my heart is already too fast, too loud I could almost hear it.

I’m almost there, and he knows it, he loves it even, judging by the way he's panting against my ear. That’s when he adds a third finger in one brutal thrust.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I need to focus, I’m losing it.

“Oh fuck…” I breathe, louder than anything around us. I don’t even care that I might sound pathetic right now.

“Focus, Mireya,” he murmurs against my skin. “Or we'll go off the cliff.”

That should pull me back, but it doesn’t.