She's cute when she lies. Her mouth is upturned toward me, her breath short, her chest rising and falling as she speaks. Her buttoned-down shirt is undone at the top, and I can see just the faintest hint of cleavage, her full breasts pressed together. If I hadn't already been thinking about the way her tits looked in the button down shirt she was wearing, I am now that she is arching her back the way she is now. "Sure you don't think about it, Princess," I say. "Tell me you haven't laid in bed at night, slid your fingers down the front of your panties, thinking about how I felt inside you."
"You say a fucking word about anything and you're dead, Caulter." My cock feels like it's going to fucking explode, straining against the front of my khakis, as I watch her get so incensed. I glance down the hallway. It's empty, the upstairs quiet. I hear my mother's voice somewhere downstairs. But no one is nearby.
"I like the way you can't stop talking about fucking when you're around me," I whisper.
"A driver is going to come for us any minute now," Katherine says, her voice breathy. But I don't think she's warning me as much as she's telling me how much time I have.
I think about sliding my hands under her ass, carrying her into her bedroom, and ripping off the slacks she's wearing, plunging my cock into her willing pussy, just like I did that night. I consider taking her on every surface of that bedroom of hers. I want to defile her again.
She whimpers, and the sound pushes me over the edge. I keep my hand firmly across her wrists and use the other hand to flick open the button of her pants. Never taking my eyes off hers, I slide my hand inside her panties.
“Caulter,” she whispers, her eyes going wider as I touch her wetness, using it as lubrication to roll my fingers over and over her clit.
“You’re wet.” I refuse to take my eyes off hers as I move my fingers in circles, watching as her eyelids fall lower and her breath becomes shorter. “You want me to touch you.”
“No.” She shakes her head and glances to the side, over the landing, in the direction of the downstairs, a look of panic crossing her face. “We shouldn't. We can’t.”
I ignore her. Instead, I slide my fingers down further and tease her entrance briefly. Her pants are in the way, and I drop my other hand down to yank them low over her hips. She emits a soft yelp of protest, but her hands stay firmly planted above her head, despite no longer being held there.
“My father,” she whispers. “Your mother. Someone will -”
If my mother or her father walked upstairs, they’d see Katherine with her pants around her hips, breathing heavily while I shoved my fingers down her panties. “You’re right,” I say softly, teasing her entrance again with the tip of my fingers. “Anyone could see. I shouldn’t let you come on my fingers, the way that you want to.”
“I don’t want to come on --” she starts to say, but I silence her, plunging my fingers inside her, quickly and without warning. Her eyes close lightly, and she brings her hands down to grip my shoulders. I stroke her slowly, on her most sensitive place, and I can feel her body give way like she’s slowly melting. Pressing my palm firmly against her clit, I continue to stroke her, and she grinds against my hand.
“No?” I whisper. “Tell me you don’t want to come on me.”
“Caulter,” she says softly.
“Yes, Princess.”
“Fucking...stop calling...me that.”
The way she gets her words mixed up, her voice breathy, makes me even more heated. I lean close to her ear. “Then stop acting like a princess,” I say.
Downstairs, a door opens and Senator Douchebag's voice rings out as he talks to a woman with a thick Boston accent. Katherine’s eyes fly open, and she looks at me, her expression anxious. But she still presses against my palm, and even though I pause momentarily, I resume again.
"Caulter," she warns.
I lean close to her, my mouth against hers, and take her bottom lip between my teeth. “Do you want to come?” I speak the words into her mouth.
“Someone….don’t….” Her pussy feels tight on my fingers as it grips them. I can't help but imagine my cock in its place.
“Say you want me to make you come, Kate,” I tell her. “Hurry. You have a minute before someone finds you.” As if on cue, the voices downstairs get louder, the woman giving directions like she's ordering around a couple of children.
“I don't...want...oh, Caulter,” her words come out in gasps. She’s so close, and her face is so filled with lust for me that what I do next is almost as much torture for me as it will be for her. But I'm going to enjoy torturing her, bringing her to the edge and then denying her. I slide my fingers from between her legs, watching as her expression changes from lusty to puzzled to furious.
“What are you doing?” she whispers. I touch my finger, slick with her juices, to her lips, and she wrinkles her face up in disgust. “Gross.”
"Button up your pants, Princess," I say. "You don't want mommy and daddy dearest to see you with your pants around your ass." I open my mouth and make a show of putting my fingers that were inside her, into my mouth, licking off every last bit of her juices. She watches me, wide-eyed.
“Shit.” Katherine rushes to button her pants, still staring at me. Downstairs, her father calls our names. “Coming!”
“Not anymore, you’re not, Princess,” I say, winking. “Unfortunately.”