Rain's POV:
The air in the car is a suffocating, hyper-saturated blur of neon world-washing rain outside and the rank, addictive stench of sex and expensive tobacco between us.
My head is thrown back against the headrest, my throat exposed and raw from screaming.
"Fuck! Oh my—" The words are ripped out of me as I pump his three fingers inside me with a wet, rhythmic violence that sounds like slapping meat.
The pink bulbs suctioned to my nipples swing like heavy, rhythmic pendulums, the constant vacuum yanking at my nerves until my spine feels like a live wire sparking in the dark.
I sink deeper into the leather, my breath coming in jagged, broken hitches. He's leaning back, the cigarette clamped between his teeth, a screen of grey smoke swirling between us like a ghost.
I wrench my legs open and hoist them up, slamming one heel onto his shoulder and the other against the cold leather of the dashboard, baring the dripping, swollen heart of myself to the dim cabin light.
