Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 621: Horny Drive To Texas

I leaned in, my breath hot against her ear. ”I’m trying to drive you insane.” My fingers traced the waistband of her jeans, just barely dipping beneath. ”I want you squirming in that seat the whole drive. Aching for me. Dripping for me.” A dark chuckle rumbled in my chest. ”I want you to feel every fucking mile between here and Texas.”

Her breath hitched, her thighs pressing together like she could ease the ache—but we both knew she couldn’t. ”It’s working,” she admitted, her voice rough, needy.

Emily turned away—but not before I saw the flush crawling up her neck, her nipples pressing against her bra. She yanked at her short jeans, the frayed denim clinging to her like a second skin, riding so high the pockets might as well have been underwear.

Then the checkered shirt—two sizes too small, the buttons straining over her full tits, her cleavage spilling between the gaps. Full Texas Girl looks.

”Fuck,” I hissed, my cock twitching at the sight.

She smirked, knowing exactly what she was doing. ”Problem?”

”Yeah,” I growled, my hand shooting out to grab her tit—hard. My fingers squeezed, molding the soft flesh, my thumb flicking over her hard nipple through the fabric. ”These buttons are gonna pop if you breathe wrong.”

”Mmm—! Ah!”* She arched into my touch, her back pressing against the wall. ”D-don’t... nnngh —just... wait—” Her hands flew to my wrist, but she didn’t push me away—just clung, her nails digging in. ”Just wait till we reach Texas... It’s all yours... I promise...”

I pinched her nipple—hard. ”You better not be lying to me, Emily.”

She whimpered, her pussy clenching on nothing. ”I won’t—! Just—fuck—please—”

I stepped back, letting go—but not before giving her tit one last squeeze, my fingers leaving red marks on her skin. ”Good girl.”

She swallowed hard, her chest heaving, before turning and leading me to a small room with a locker in the corner. The metal door creaked as she yanked it open, stacks of cash neatly bundled inside.

”You’ve been planning this,” I observed, watching as she stuffed the bills into her bag—fast, efficient, but her hands shook just a little.

”Had to be ready,” she muttered, zipping the bag shut. ”Victor’s not the kind to let go.”

I stepped up behind her, my cock pressing against her ass as I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. ”Neither am I.”

She shivered, but didn’t pull away.

The trunk slammed shut with a final, echoing thud, the cash locked beneath the false floor. Emily slid into the driver’s seat, her short jeans riding up just enough to flash the underswell of her ass—a deliberate tease. I dropped into the passenger side, my cock already stiffening, just from the heat of her presence.

She turned the key, the engine snarling to life, and shot me a sideways glance. ”Behave yourself.”

My hand settled high on her thigh, fingers brushing the damp heat of her pussy. ”Or what?”

Her grip lashed out, seizing my balls in a vise, and my cock twitched uselessly, trapped in the constricting fabric of my pajamas.

She released me with a shove, slapping my hand away from her thigh. ”Just be patient, dear.” Her voice dripped with false sweetness. ”It won’t be long before that thing’s buried inside my pussy.”

Oh, she had no idea what was coming.

I activated Scent of Lust and disabled my The healer ability. By the time I was done, her cunt and ass would be wrecked, aching, and desperate for more.

Emily’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel, her short nails digging into the leather. Only a minute had passed since I’d flicked on Scent of Lust, but the effect was already ripping through her like a drug. I leaned back, spreading my legs just enough to let my cock tent the fabric of my pajamas, thick and heavy with the promise of what was coming.

Her breath hitched—a tiny, needy sound—and her thighs pressed together, the denim of her shorts dampening where she was already wet. I could see the fight in her: the way her jaw clenched, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips every time her eyes betrayed her, snaked down to my lap. She’d try to look at the road, but her gaze snapped back like a rubber band, hungry, desperate.

”Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, her voice raw. The car drifted slightly as her focus shattered, her foot stuttering on the gas. She squirmed in the seat, her ass lifting just enough to press her thighs together harder, like she could stifle the ache building between them. But it wasn’t working. Nothing would.

I reached over, trailing a single finger up her bare thigh, stopping just shy of where she needed me most. Her entire body jerked, her hips itching to chase my touch, but she locked herself still, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

”Eyes on the road, Baby,” I murmured, my voice low, amused. ”Wouldn’t want you to crash before I get that pussy and asshole of yours.”

She whimpered, a broken little sound, and her hand twitched like she wanted to grab me, to shove my fingers inside her and end the torture. But she didn’t. Not yet. Instead, she bit her lip so hard I saw the imprint of her teeth, her chest rising and falling like she’d just run a mile.

”You’re dripping, aren’t you?” I didn’t need to ask. I could smell it—the musky sweetness of her arousal, thick in the confined space of the car. It mixed with the leather and gasoline, intoxicating. Maddening.

Emily let out a shuddering breath, her fingers trembling on the wheel. ”Just—fuck—” she gasped, her voice cracking. ”If you don’t—touch me—”

I laughed, dark and knowing, and pulled my hand away completely. ”Then what, Emily?” I let the name drip off my tongue like a threat. ”You’ll what?”

She whined, a desperate, broken sound, and her hips rolled in the seat, seeking friction that wasn’t there. The car swerved again, her control unraveling by the second. I could see it in the way her thighs glistened, in the way her nipples strained against her top, begging for my mouth.