"I can't!" she gasped out, her fingers tightening on his shoulders.

Driven by the overwhelming friction, Rosa began to ride him. She increased the tempo with every second, lifting herself up and slamming back down against his lap. The sound of their wet, breathless impacts filled the tight space of the luxury car. Giovanni’s hands were completely frantic now—touching her ass, gripping her waist, cupping her breasts, then sliding up to frame her face. He couldn't decide where he wanted his skin to touch her next.

He kept thrusting upward, his movements perfectly synchronized with hers, hitting every single spot inside her with an agonizing accuracy. Condensation and crystals of...