Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) (17 page)

“Dammit, Fliss,” I whispered.

I moved a little, sliding more to the center of the backseat, unable to resist watching her. My mind battled with my conscience, my morality bitterly fighting my intensifying need. I watched her fingertips grasp the hardened bud of her nipple as she arched her head back, and I reached down to my own cock, squeezing it to keep it from swelling any further.

She opened her eyes and turned her face towards me. “He’s watching,” she breathed. “Do you want to touch me?”

I swallowed hard.

Yes.

Fuck yes.

Jaysus fecking hell yes.

But I shook my head. My throbbing cock lurched, but I found the strength to grate out a ‘
no’
in a rough voice.

Her eyes closed, only allowed me the slighted glimpse of the pain my vitriolic rejection caused. “Maybe I should let him touch me then,” she whispered, her voice thick and hoarse, “since you don’t want to.”

With a flick of her hand, she lowered the window just a few inches, just enough for the manky sod to stick his arm through as he cupped her breast. Fliss arched like a cat, a heated seductive moan sounded as he squeezed her heavy breast. He roughly groped her, wanking off with an increased force, and Fliss closed her eyes tightly. His hand moved to the other side, slowly trailing down her waist towards the apex of her thighs.

Her expression was hard to read, a combination of physical pleasure and raw shame. This exhibitionism reached out to my own desire, to claim her and to punish her for making me witness it. Her desperation called to me, pleading for me to act.

“Fliss, please,” I begged, barely knowing if I was asking her to stop or to continue. As the dogger’s hand reached her inner thigh, bare just below her hemline, and started trailing back up along her fine skin, she looked back at me.

“Please what?” she breathed, then her eyes filled with tears, drifting closed when I wouldn’t answer. When I couldn’t answer.

She shifted a little in her seat, arching across the center console, bringing her face closer to mine as her legs parted. Her tongue slid across her lips, and she bit into the lower one and gave a faint sob. Looking down, I saw the sod outside had pushed her lacy knickers to the side and was sliding his fingers inside her, pulling them out with a wet, slick sound, then circling her clit before pushing them back inside.

I felt her eyes on me, watching me as I watched him touch her. As the scent of her arousal began to fill the car, so heady in the air that I could almost taste her. She writhed beneath his touch, her long, silky hair falling back to spread across my lap, to tangle in my fingers. My hands ached to wrap up in it, to grip it hard and bring her lips up to mine in a crushing kiss.

“It’s okay to be a little shy,” the guy said through the window, “but could I taste you, love?”

Her breath came out in a rush, quick and raging and she held my gaze.

“God, Fliss,” I repeated, “don’t. Don’t do this.”

“I want it to be you,” she breathed as she reached up to touch my cheek. I initially leaned into her touch before I jerked my head away.

She blinked, releasing a single tear to trail down into her hair. “Why won’t you ever touch me?” she sobbed quietly.

“I can’t…” I forced out. “I can’t, Fliss.”

The degradation she felt for what she was doing lit her eyes. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t go farther with this. Fliss was no virginal innocent, but this…
Jaysus, this was too much.

She blinked her eyes again, then closed them, blocking her emotions from my sight. Suddenly, she pushed up and opened the car door.

“Fliss—” I groaned, but she was already lying back again, across the seats in the front as the tosser outside knelt before her to bury his face between her legs. The whole time, I sat there with my jaw clenched until it ached, wanting so badly to stop her.

But I said nothing. I did nothing.

I felt fury radiating off my shoulders, vibrating through my body, and mixing with an intense jealousy and lust.

“Are you okay, love?” the guy asked her when she cried out, and she nodded again, a little too forcefully, like she was trying to convince herself. Her eyes were still slammed shut, closing herself off.

“Yes,” she replied quietly, inhaling as he brought his face forward once more. He pushed her knickers to the side and his tongue darted out with a little flick at her bare pussy, and then he closed his mouth over her once more with a renewed vigor. Fliss cried out quietly, rocking a little with the onslaught of his lips.

My hands were beginning to cramp, one clenched tight and the other fiercely grabbing my cock and squeezing it painfully. Using the pain to distract myself from the scene playing out inches away. This woman I’d wanted for years, spread out as some bloke savored the sweetness that I’d only ever dreamed of. I could hear my heartbeat pounding faster, the rush of blood through my body, crying out to touch her.

And then, Sam was back, looking through the driver window, watching the depravity before him. I heard the latch release, and Fliss looked up to see him standing over her with the door open at her head.

“Is this alright?” he moaned, motioning to the open door.

Fliss’ eyes darted back to meet mine for a second before she sobbed quietly and slammed them shut. Her lower lip trembled, and she bit it hard before she nodded.

“Yes.”

As I watched, my stomach churned and my body felt hot. Sam ran his hands down from her shoulders and over her breasts, massaging those fucking amazing tits. Firm and round. Pink nipples that hardened tightly beneath his touch as he squeezed the soft flesh and pinched at the tips.

I’d seen a lot of sex in my day. I was a classic voyeur, incredibly turned on by watching others as I stroked my dick. Building the tension until I wanked it so hard that it hurt.

But this…

Fuck,
this was amazing.

Fliss was amazing.

Her head fell back in a cloud of silky, crimson hair as the other guy continued to pump his fingers into her pussy, eating her out like a starving man. Her eyes flicked open again and found me watching her. Even in the darkness, her eyes burned when they met mine.

Ferocious, warring urges ripped through me. Part of me wanted to push those fuckers away, to claim her as my own. To pull her into the back with me and ride her until she couldn’t even think about touching another man.

Another part wanted to see her reach that crest. She seemed to be getting close, her faint cries and heavy breathing and trembling body. Her hand reached up to grasp the steering wheel, clenched tightly until her knuckles went white with the strain.

I wanted to see the look on her face when she went over the edge.

“Do you want my cock?” Sam asked.

This time, Fliss didn’t look at me. She didn’t have to. I practically growled in response as I sat there shaking but saying nothing. I clenched my jaw, quiet, and angry… and so furiously turned on, as twisted as it was.

For a second, I thought she was going to say no, but she took a deep breath and said, “With a condom.”

The sod didn’t waste any time pulling a johnny from his pocket, and he slicked it on over his dick as he knelt over her. A split second of hesitation, and she took it in her hand, stroking once, then again, before her lips closed over the tip, and Sam let out a loud, ragged groan.

She was beautiful and dirty and wrong, lying there spread out before me. I wanted her so incredibly badly. I was out of my mind with lust and a pathetic desire to throw those fuckers off her. To bury myself inside her. Fuck them. Fuck anyone watching.

Fuck Trent.

Trent.

I closed my eyes. The thought of him ripped through me as the muted sounds of sex filled my ears – moans and sighs and quiet cries. I forced myself to look ahead at the car in front of us to see Roddy pounding away at the other woman while her husband tossed off beside them. For a second, I thought of doing the same, ripping open my jeans and releasing my cock to the night air, to beat it until I painted Fliss’ body white and claimed her as my own.

The guy who’d had his head buried between Fliss’ legs rose slightly, tugging at his cock in jerking, frantic strokes.

“Mind if I ride ya a bit, love?” he asked. Fliss pulled her mouth free of Sam and took a few deep breaths with her eyes tightly closed, otherwise unmoving. There was a crinkle of a johnny wrapper, and then he started moving closer, touching her with the tip as he moved to thrust inside.

My eyes slammed tightly shut, and my mind imagined me in his place, on the cusp of slamming into her.

“Wait! Stop!”

Fliss’ pained sob shattered the subtle sounds of sex, and my eyes shot open to see her looking right at me.

The darkness made her expression hard to read, but I could still see the clear anguish in her eyes. Sam still had his dick out, having pulled back a touch, and the other man had also retreated a little at her cry.

I heard Fliss’ breath catch, agony manifesting in a shaky sob as she began to cry almost hysterically.

In a heartbeat, I jumped out of the back and pulled the other sod away from the car.

Away from
my
Fliss.

“Stop,” I growled, looking sternly up to Sam. “Something’s wrong.”

Both guys immediately backed off as Fliss curled up into a little ball in the passenger seat and sobbed.

“No more,” I demanded, reaching into the car to place my arm around her, pulling her up against my chest. “She’s done.”

Sam nodded, closing the driver door, and the other guy rose to his feet, tucking his junk away.

“Does she need something?” he asked quietly. “Can we do something to help?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I’ve got her.”

I pulled Fliss into my arms and rose, stepping away from the car and back out into the trees where I knelt down and held her tightly against me. She cried against my shoulder, half naked and practically convulsive with sorrow.

“Shh,” I murmured against her hair. “It’s alright, Fliss. I’ve got you. It’s alright.”

Her tears continued to flow, her body continued to shake. In the dark light of the moon and stars, she cried in body-wracking sobs. And I crooned to her. I told her she was safe. I held her tightly and wrapped my arms protectively around her. I wasn’t sure what had finally broken in her, but watching it tear her apart was ripping me to shreds.

After some time, when she had quieted some, she stiffly pulled away. Initially resistant, I eventually acquiesced and let her. She settled on her knees and tugged her wrap dress back into place over her breasts. She wiped her eyes, her head still cast down towards the rocky earth, her body still trembling with ragged sobs.

“Fliss?” I asked softly.

A sob broke from her throat, and she shook her head.

“I need to go back to my flat,” she whispered.

“I’ll take you,” I replied with a hard, solemn voice.

She rose and took a few tremulous steps. I came closer, and she shrank away, then began walking, leaving me to follow close behind her as she circled around the perimeter of the car park. We stayed just barely back in the trees until we reached the narrow lane we had come in on, out to the main road. There was a bus stop nearby, but the thought of being around anyone else was revolting. Fliss was the epitome of a hot mess, and she needed more privacy than that would allow.

We walked a short way until we came to a busier part of town where I flagged down a taxi. After I gave her address to the driver, the silence was suffocating. Fliss stared out the window, only releasing a small sniffle or a fragile breath as the tears silently continued to fall.

I still had no clue what to say.

How to help.

Nothing.

The windows of her flat were dark as the taxi pulled up in front of the building. I pulled a few euros from my pocket to pay the driver, and then followed Fliss as she made her way up the footpath.