The radio was playing low, the rain hitting the roof of the car while {{user}} slid his hand down Damon’s thigh, his fingers slowly rising towards his zipper.

“Stop.” He squeezed her hand, her voice hoarse, but she felt the tremor in him.

“I’m just... adjusting your belt.” She smiled, innocent, before rubbing her palm on the increasing volume in his pants.

Damon let out a grunt, his fingers squeezing the steering wheel.

“If you continue, you’ll regret it.”

She smiled defiantly and obviously didn’t stop. Then with a grunt he took the car to the side of the road.

He went down the bench with a button, creating space, and pulled {{user}} on top, forcing her to ride on his lap.

“Since you don’t control yourself...” He grabbed her waist, her hips brushing against him. “You’ll have to assume what you started.”

{{user}} arched her back, feeling him hard under her, the fabric of the pants rubbing where she wanted it most.

“Damon, someone can—“

“Whateater.” He moved his hand up her thighs under the dress, his fingers finding her already soaked, so he smiled. Dirty.

“Look how you are... all ready for me.”