at least, the lust might trump.
Veiled Desire
Chapter Nine
The ride back home was silent, the atmosphere charged with tension. Mason turned his blinker on and exited the freeway. The roads to their development were more rural, and the streetlights fell away, until the interior of the car was lit only by the slight glow of the dashboard.
He jumped when he felt Leyla’s hand smooth over his thigh. His cock readied for her touch and the promise she’d made for the coming night.
She wasn’t coy or demure. Her hand coasted right up his leg until she found the bulge at his crotch. She squeezed gently, and his hands jerked on the wheel. “Leyla. What are you doing?”
“Do you have to ask?” Her tone was confident, amused. He couldn’t say anything when she unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zipper with deft motions.
“Let me pull over,” he said hoarsely.
“No. I want to get home.” She leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, a direct contrast to the bold hand smoothing inside his open fly. His cock had already punched past the top of his Jockeys, and she pulled the underwear farther down. Then his cock was in her hands, and he didn’t think anything had ever felt so good in his life as his tortured flesh, finally, finally being touched by her sweet hand.
She oh-so-slowly stroked up and then down, as if she were memorizing the feel of him. “I saw you. Just a bit. You didn’t know, but I was watching you the other night. You were in your underwear, getting ready for your shower, and I saw you.” She said it in a soft tone, half dreamy, half apologetic.
He swallowed and kept his eyes on the road. He was going about ten miles under the already-low speed limit. Thank God no one else was on the road. “I know.”
Her hand paused on his cock. If he was just a little bit less macho, he would have wept. “You knew I was there?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You were undressing—for me?”
“I wanted you to want me. It was juvenile, but—oh God.” She was sucking the skin of his neck, her hand tightening on his cock and stroking harder.
She drew her mouth away, her breath coming in small excited puffs against his skin. Her hand continued to work him, her palm rubbing over the sensitive head and using his own lubrication to slick her way. “I felt a little silly, getting aroused by the sight of you in your underwear, when there’s models on TV wearing far less, but I’d never seen you in so little.”
“No, not silly. That was the way I felt tonight. I see women wearing less then you all the time, but just because it’s you showing a little more leg than you normally do…” He threw her a quick smile between gritted teeth, because it was really difficult to talk normally when she was doing such an amazing job touching him. “There’s nothing wrong with being turned on by a little subtle sexiness.”
“Yes. Subtle.” She was quiet, her hand stroking him as if it were perfectly normal for him to be driving while a woman played with his body. He had to fight the urge to wrap his fingers around her hand and thrust upward into the tight clasp. “Did you know what I wanted to do to you? What I fantasized about when you drew your boxers down your body?”
He practically groaned. He did not need to hear any fantasies until he had a non-moving surface nearby. Then again, he didn’t want to stifle her sexuality either. He loved it, every surprising facet that made up Leyla. “What?”
She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to, because he knew exactly what she was thinking about when she lowered her head to his lap. He shouted at the first touch of her tongue against the head of his cock and jerked the car to the shoulder of the road, ramming it into park.
She started to draw away at the sudden grinding halt, but he sank his hands into her hair and brought her back to him with a slight murmur. “No…wanted both hands…”
Unable to talk anymore, he tilted his head back
Veiled Desire
Chapter Nine
The ride back home was silent, the atmosphere charged with tension. Mason turned his blinker on and exited the freeway. The roads to their development were more rural, and the streetlights fell away, until the interior of the car was lit only by the slight glow of the dashboard.
He jumped when he felt Leyla’s hand smooth over his thigh. His cock readied for her touch and the promise she’d made for the coming night.
She wasn’t coy or demure. Her hand coasted right up his leg until she found the bulge at his crotch. She squeezed gently, and his hands jerked on the wheel. “Leyla. What are you doing?”
“Do you have to ask?” Her tone was confident, amused. He couldn’t say anything when she unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zipper with deft motions.
“Let me pull over,” he said hoarsely.
“No. I want to get home.” She leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, a direct contrast to the bold hand smoothing inside his open fly. His cock had already punched past the top of his Jockeys, and she pulled the underwear farther down. Then his cock was in her hands, and he didn’t think anything had ever felt so good in his life as his tortured flesh, finally, finally being touched by her sweet hand.
She oh-so-slowly stroked up and then down, as if she were memorizing the feel of him. “I saw you. Just a bit. You didn’t know, but I was watching you the other night. You were in your underwear, getting ready for your shower, and I saw you.” She said it in a soft tone, half dreamy, half apologetic.
He swallowed and kept his eyes on the road. He was going about ten miles under the already-low speed limit. Thank God no one else was on the road. “I know.”
Her hand paused on his cock. If he was just a little bit less macho, he would have wept. “You knew I was there?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You were undressing—for me?”
“I wanted you to want me. It was juvenile, but—oh God.” She was sucking the skin of his neck, her hand tightening on his cock and stroking harder.
She drew her mouth away, her breath coming in small excited puffs against his skin. Her hand continued to work him, her palm rubbing over the sensitive head and using his own lubrication to slick her way. “I felt a little silly, getting aroused by the sight of you in your underwear, when there’s models on TV wearing far less, but I’d never seen you in so little.”
“No, not silly. That was the way I felt tonight. I see women wearing less then you all the time, but just because it’s you showing a little more leg than you normally do…” He threw her a quick smile between gritted teeth, because it was really difficult to talk normally when she was doing such an amazing job touching him. “There’s nothing wrong with being turned on by a little subtle sexiness.”
“Yes. Subtle.” She was quiet, her hand stroking him as if it were perfectly normal for him to be driving while a woman played with his body. He had to fight the urge to wrap his fingers around her hand and thrust upward into the tight clasp. “Did you know what I wanted to do to you? What I fantasized about when you drew your boxers down your body?”
He practically groaned. He did not need to hear any fantasies until he had a non-moving surface nearby. Then again, he didn’t want to stifle her sexuality either. He loved it, every surprising facet that made up Leyla. “What?”
She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to, because he knew exactly what she was thinking about when she lowered her head to his lap. He shouted at the first touch of her tongue against the head of his cock and jerked the car to the shoulder of the road, ramming it into park.
She started to draw away at the sudden grinding halt, but he sank his hands into her hair and brought her back to him with a slight murmur. “No…wanted both hands…”
Unable to talk anymore, he tilted his head back
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