Page 91 of Untamed Sinner

“A dare?” She rocks slowly in rhythm with my unhurried thrusts.

I slide my hand up to wrap around her throat, holding her—a reminder of who's in control here. “Call it motivation.”

“That’s cute, that you think I need encouragement.” Smiling, her head falls back, and I can feel her surrender in the way she drenches my cock. “Are you going to fuck me, or are you going to make small talk all day?”

"Neither." I shift down in the seat, settling in. "Touch yourself."

Her eyes snap to mine, flaring with heat. "Well, look who found his control again."

“That wasn’t a request, Amanda.” I keep the rhythm slow, controlled, watching her process the command. "Touch yourself while you ride me. Show me exactly how you like it."

For a second I think she’s going to fuck with me and resist, but instead she gives in. I feel a primitive satisfaction when she starts to play with her clit. Letting go of her neck, I lean back against the seat, giving her space.

The sound of our breathing fills the car. I watch, alternating between her fingers and her expressive face. Her shirt’s ridden up, bunched at her waist, the thin fabric doing a poor job of hiding her hard nipples.

I take one and roll it between my fingers, letting my other hand slide behind her, my fingers slipping between her ass.

"Fuck," she breathes, losing her rhythm for a second when my finger finds its destination.

I rub her there, watching carefully, cataloging every micro-expression—the way her eyebrows draw together, the flush spreading down her neck, the way her free hand grips my shoulder for balance. "You like it?"

"You have to ask?" She smirks at me, the expression losing its bite with the sex-bright look in her eyes. “You an ass man, Hendricks?”

“I’m a Mandy Reed man,” I reply, pushing the very tip of my finger in. When I feel her clench on my cock, I pull out and do it again, the shallowest of intrusions.

"Fuck." Her fingers move faster, more desperate. Her head falls forward, her forehead pressing against mine.

I can feel her getting close—the way her body tenses, the way she's clenching around me in waves. “Kiss me.”

She attacks my mouth, her moans filling the cab. The truck rocks with us, and whatever control I thought I had is gone.

Mandy’s body jerks against mine, and she grinds down on me, looking for more.

I tease her with my finger, using my hand to press her more firmly against me. I spear my fingers in her hair, keeping her right where I want her, and say against her lips, “Let go, Amanda.”

She comes apart in my arms.

Her body clenches around me, her nails digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks. She cries out my name, muffled in our kisses. Gritting my teeth, I ride out her orgasm, wanting to come with her but knowing she’ll give me another. I notch my thumb under her clit, rubbing alongside her fingers.

“Adrian.” Her head falls back and she screams.

That does it. I drive into her one last time and come apart with her. Everything whites out except the sound of my name on her lips.

Adrian.

Fuck. She has no idea what that does to me.

65

MANDY

Hendricks has been in the vault for almost two hours.

I know because I’ve heard him come upstairs twice—once for coffee and once for his phone charger. Both times wearing the same expression he gets when he’s trying to personally intimidate the universe into cooperating.

He’s checking Monday again: routes, security, Ashford’s men, contingencies for the contingencies… He’s also communicating with Ashford, feeding him information and making sure everything is set up properly.

Which leaves me alone to deal with the one thing we still haven’t figured out: Clara.