Submission Specialist: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 2) by Ada Scott Page A

couldn’t help it, I moaned like the slut I was being called.  All these words felt so different being spoken now, instead of coming from somebody who resented my sexuality, they were from somebody who was utterly attracted to me.
    He finished wrapping the seatbelt around my wrists and drew it tight.  When I pulled against it, it only became tighter, and I heard a quiet chuckle as he appreciated my struggle.
    With my hands taken out of the equation and my body held down by his weight, his hands were free to explore me intimately at his leisure.  His fingers traced down my arms, and then my upper chest, feeling the curves of my breasts as far as my top could allow.
    “Mmmm.  Built to be fucked hard.”
    He moved backwards and grabbed the bottom of my shirt, lifting it upwards.  Timing his tugs with the movement of my body as I squirmed, he was able to get it up and over my head, careful to hold my sleep mask on as he pulled my top up around my elbows, further restricting me.
    “A push-up bra?  I should have known, you attention-seeking slut .  You like teasing men, don’t you?  You like making them want to fuck you.”
    This was the first push-up bra I’d ever owned, bought yesterday and worn for the first time today.  I liked the idea of pressing up against Austin and giving him the best view I could.  I bought it for him .
    “No… I’m not like that,” I whispered.
    He unclasped the bra at the front and unveiled my breasts.  “Yeah right.  You wanted to give me all the bait you could.  You want this so.  Fucking .  Bad.”
    “I don’t!  I’m married…”
    My nipples, already hard and tingling, were pinched by rough hands and I gasped in surprised pleasure and pain.  He rolled them between finger and thumb as I writhed beneath him.
    “That’s not what these say.  That’s not what your body says.  Looks to me like you’re open for business.”
    With one last tug, he let go of my nipples, leaving me to cope with the exciting aftermath of his rough handling.  The ache of his pinches faded, and the ache for more attention replaced it.
    Over the background rumble of the airplane I heard a zip and, if possible, my nipples hardened even more.  A hand sneaked up my skirt and I clamped my thighs together, but it was too late.  I was effectively trapping his hand against my panties.
    There was no win in this situation.  If I opened my legs, I would just give him easier access to my sex, and if I held firm, then I simply held him exactly where he wanted to be.  A spark of heat from my clit jolted me, reminding me that another way of looking at it was that there was no lose in this situation.
    “Soaking wet , you liar,” he said.
    Sure enough, when he rubbed my panties against me, they slid freely and my legs quivered.  After a few moments of struggling, the man I couldn’t see managed to slip a finger inside my panties. I felt him inside me, stroking the front wall of my pussy with a come-here motion.
    “Holy shhhhhhhh …” I trailed off, straining against my bonds.
    There was a particular spot he was touching in there that made me feel like a powerful engine on the verge of coming to life with a V8 roar.  His finger slipped in and out all the easier the more he stroked me, but it wasn’t long before he pulled out and pushed it into my mouth, gripping my chin to keep his hand steady as I twisted from side to side.
    “Taste that?  That’s how much you want this.”
    His finger was slick with my juices and my own arousal dominated my sense of taste.  Like the rest of my body, I couldn’t escape this. His finger followed me as far as I could move my head, as I tried to push it out with my tongue, which only made me lap off my sweet nectar.
    When he pulled his finger out, he grabbed a tight fistful of my hair and leaned forward, kissing me roughly and sharing in the flavor of my natural lubricants.  I whimpered into the kiss, my mouth forced wide open to accept him as he held my head