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My lips part on a shuddered breath as he drags over me, circling, rubbing me open with shaking fingers. When his thumb grazes my clit in a tentative circle, it lights me up. A gasp rips out of my chest, head tipping back against the seat, eyes burning shut, every nerve singing under his desperate, trembling touch.

“I said… in,” I whisper, my voice heavy with command.

He obeys—driving one finger into me in a single, shaking thrust, pressing up against my G-spot. The sound that leaves me is guttural, humiliatingly raw, but I don’t care.

“Another,” I breathe. “Now.”

“I—I need to shift down.”

“Then do it,” I snap. “But you come right back.”

The car slows as he coasts to a stop at the red light. His hand rips away—my body clenching at the loss of contact as he reaches for the gearstick. But the second the car stills, he’s right back, plunging two fingers inside me at once, stretching me in one thick, shaking thrust. My free hand flies to the seatbelt, nails biting into the webbing to ground myself.

“God, Sable…” His voice fractures. “You’re dripping onto the seat.”

My thighs tighten like a vice around his wrist, pinning him right where I need him. He curls his fingers, clumsy and desperate, drawing out a moan.

The light flips green. He snaps his hand back to the gearstick, pushes into first, and the car lurches forward with a whine. As soon as it’s third, he’s right back, knuckles grinding deep, stretching, searching, the heel of his palm catching me with every shift. The contrast—engine thrumming, the world whipping by in blurred streaks, while inside me his fingers push and curl and pull—has me unraveling so fast it’s dizzying.

My chest heaves, breath catching, head thrown back as if I can escape the way my own body’s turning traitor on me. The slick noise of his fingers moving inside me fills the cabin, obscene and loud, and fuck if it doesn’t drive me closer, faster, harder.

The car rolls to a stop, headlights washing over the cracked curb and the half-dead shrubs lining the apartment lot. His fingers slip from me as he fumbles for the stick, downshifting with a quiet whine. Then he yanks the handbrake with a sharp click, and the engine cuts off with a twist of his wrist, the silence roaring louder than the traffic still hissing down the main road behind us.

I hear the frantic hitch of his breath as he unbuckles his belt, metal clinking in the dim cabin. He twists in his seat awkwardly, angling himself toward me.

“Seat—” His voice shreds out in a plea. “Put the seat back… please. I can’t—can’t reach properly.”

My breath shudders out of me, chest rising sharp and quick. I reach down and snap the lever, the seat sliding back with a long mechanical groan. The extra space yawns open between us, and he fills it immediately, leaning closer, his fingers trembling when they push back inside me.

A strangled sound tears from his throat. His forehead dips, breath shuddering hot against my cheek as his hand works rougher, needier, curling deeper until my hips jolt up to meet every thrust.

“Fuck…” His lips graze the edge of my jaw, scatter clumsy kisses up the line of my cheek, desperate and shaky. “Fuck, Sable… call me what you called me that night.” His voice is cracked open, ragged and begging.

Desire floods so thick it nearly chokes me. God. The sheer hunger in him—like he’d crawl through fire just to earn it.

“Make me come,” I breathe, my hand fisting in his coat to drag him closer, “and I will.”

He shoves harder, pressing another finger into me, stretching me wide, curling deep until the slick sound of it fills the car. His pace turns frantic, every thrust punching a cry from my throat, his mouth spilling against my skin—kisses, gasps, broken curses—like he can’t stop himself.

“Sable—” His voice breaks on my name, a raw, desperate sound, spilling out between kisses that scatter uselessly across my jaw, my temple, anywhere he can reach. “Sable, fuck, you feel—” He cuts off with a groan, working me like he can’t stop.

My pussy clenches around his fingers, grinding down against him, the pressure coiling so tight it feels like I’m about to shatter. Heat floods me, bursting low and sharp, dragging me over the edge in one violent rush.

“Oh—fuck—” The cry rips out of me, my back arching against the leather, vision sparking white as I come hard around his fingers. My body wrings dry, every nerve screaming, his hand still pushing through it, milking every last tremor until I’m left slumped, panting, sweat cooling on my skin.

Slowly, he drags his fingers out of me. My body clenches around nothing, furious at the absence, and my teeth sink into my lip to trap the gasp.

Before he can retreat into himself, I catch his face in my hand. My palm presses warm against his jaw, thumb stroking once across the stubble there.

I lean in, close enough for his breath to ghost hot against my cheek, and let my mouth brush a whisper of a kiss to his jaw. His breath hitches, his head tipping slightly toward the contact.

“Good boy,” I murmur against his skin.

His forehead drops forward again, a shiver tearing through him as he breathes my name. “Say it again,” he whispers. “Please—just one more time.”

I grip his jaw, steadying him until his eyes lift to mine, glassy and wide, like he doesn’t know what to do with air anymore. He looks beautiful like this.

“Good boy,” I repeat, firmer this time.