Bound For Me(8)

“I want you now.” She sat back a fraction and rolled the condom down his straining cock with a deftness she had no idea she had. Must have been the desperation.

Kneeling up slightly she pulled aside her drenched panties. There was no time to get fully naked. No need. He was exactly what she wanted, where she wanted.

“Sugar—”

She slid down on him and whatever he’d been about to say was lost in his guttural groan. In her high-pitched squeal. She bit her lip, cutting off her own sound.

“Sugarlips,” he breathed harshly, lifting a hand to pull her lower lip free. “Don’t hold it back. Hold nothing back.”

“Then kiss me.” She sank onto him for a moment. Sank into his kiss.

And then, slowly, she returned to her rhythm, feeling him deep inside her. Thick and long and hard and so fantastic it was a wonder her eyes didn’t roll back in her head.

No more words. Only sighs, then ragged, rapid breathing as she worked to ride him harder and faster. In seconds it became the wildest physical connection. A literal coming together. She threw her head back, utterly abandoned as she sought her release. Holding nothing back. Unafraid to writhe, rotating on him, violently sliding up and down his hot, stiff cock.

His skillful fingers sought out her clit, rubbing enough to send her crazy. She was so full, so on the edge. She ground down on him. So hot. So deliciously hot. Sensation streamed—pleasure she hadn’t felt in so long. In ever.

“Like that?”

Like he didn’t already know the freaking answer. “More,” she moaned. “So good.”

“Yeah.” He sounded so damn sexily stunned. Like she was.

She went rigid, her muscles screaming. Too good. Too intense. The orgasm tore through her. Her mouth parted, a scream that first sounded so raw and harsh in the small space… and then went silent as her vocal cords twisted up and shook like every other muscle in her body.

The. Absolute. Best.

Sweat tracked down her face. She panted from riding him so hard. Her legs burned from the strain. But she wanted so much more. No matter that she was sore. That she was tired. She still wanted more. That orgasm had wiped her, but oh man, did she want more.

“Sorry, Sugar, I can’t hold back anymore…”

He’d been holding back?

“Don’t,” she begged feeling both anticipation and amazement. “Take what you want. Take me.”

She needed him to finish it for both of them.

He groaned, lifting his face to kiss her so hard.

Sweat slicked between them, dripped from her face to his. The tinted windows had long since steamed completely. Uncaring that the car was rocking on its wheels.

He switched his hold on her to grip her shoulders, trying to keep her rammed onto him to the hilt while bucking his hips upwards, working to fuck her harder, harder, deeper. A furious fight to the finish, desperate to maximise the sensations, reach that ultimate pleasure. He groaned between gritted teeth with each forceful thrust up. Faster and faster, until his voice reverberated in her ears in a continuous harsh sound of a fierce man pushed to his limits. She braced herself with one hand on his chest. She could feel the racing beat of his heart and the vibrations of his pained, desperate groans.

She curled her fingers into a fist as she fell into that hot mix of pleasure all over again. And she squeezed down on him as tightly as she could.

“Fuck. Yes.” He shouted. His hands grasped her hard and he arched up into her for an endless moment of ecstasy.

Her body mirrored his, slipping so easily again into that intense storm, clenching instinctively on him again and then again—like it would never let him go.

Until no muscle in her body would work anymore and she collapsed onto him.

Long moments later she was struggling to catch her breath. She kept her eyes tightly closed, pressing her face hard into his broad shoulder as she tried to return to normal. Beneath her, his chest rapidly rose and fell as he too recovered.

He said nothing. Nor did she. She couldn’t—was still trying to process what they’d just shared. It had been so rough, yet so gentle. All those kisses?

All her animal instincts had been met in that utterly physical half hour, but as reality returned, doubts needled their way in.

She’d been so unrestrained. So uncontrolled. So loud. She’d not given a damn. He’d offered and she’d taken what she wanted. Embraced it all and loved every second of it. Only now she felt vulnerability rise. She’d exposed herself in a way she never had before. Instinct screamed at her to build a defense. She drew a steadying breath and sat up, tried to look into his shadow-hidden eyes. “Tell a soul and I’ll—”

Oh hell, her voice was croaky.

“What? Break my balls? You just did.” He laughed. His voice too held a roughened edge. “Simmer down Sugar, I already told you no one will know. I don’t kiss and tell.” His hands stroked down her back, not skin to skin but over her shirt. Aiming to soothe rather than stir. “Relax.”

He had already told her that. And he deserved better than the prickly crap she was giving him now. Trouble was, she didn’t know how to handle this situation. It was the first time in ages that she’d had sex. The best sex she’d had in her life. Which kinda meant she needed to escape asap. Because she wasn’t about to let her happy hormones make her go overboard for him.

So what was the protocol? How did she get out of here as fast as possible without being too abrupt?

“Where can I drop you?” He seemed to sense her growing discomfort.

“Oh.” She licked her lips and tried to shift back from him. She lifted on her knees, her sprits inwardly sinking as he left her body. She quickly wriggled to slip her panties back in place. “Nowhere. I’ll walk from here.”

“That’s not happening.”

“Of course it is. You may not have noticed, but I have two legs, two feet, all fully functioning.”

“I’m extremely aware that your whole body functions spectacularly, but I’m still giving you a lift home.”

“Thanks anyway, but I’d prefer to walk.” She couldn’t quite see, but she was certain he’d just rolled his eyes. She ground her teeth. “There’s no crime in Summerhill—”

She broke off at his laughter.

“Sugar, it’s not safe for you to walk these streets this late at night.” He sighed as if she were stupid.

She tensed and tried to shift off his lap. Because she was not stupid. She could take care of herself.

His hands stroked more firmly down her back, still supposedly soothing, but holding her in place at the same time. “It’s not safe for anyone to walk out at this time of night..”

“I have pepper spray.” And if he wasn’t careful, she’d test whether that was still functioning in a minute.

“That’s not going to save you from the snow,” he replied, amusement rippling through him. “It’s not just people you have to protect yourself from here, it’s the weather as well.”

She took advantage of his relaxed moment to quickly slither off his lap and onto the seat beside him. “Look out the window, it’s a clear sky. I’ll be fine.”

“You could still slip and fall. Hit your head. Lie there unconscious and get hypothermia and be halfway to dead before morning.”

“Wow. And you told me not to dramatize.”

“This isn’t the safe environment you think it is, this village is clinging to the edge of a massive mountain. You have to think about all the possibilities and take precautions.”

“I’ve managed the walk home every night so far without incident…”

“And tonight you don’t have to.”

She glared at him. She did not want to be dropped home, like it was some kind of reward or duty or something. She just wanted to be gone. Now.

“I was just inside you for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “But oh no, you’ve got to do the independence thing.” He reached past her and flicked open the car door. “Fine. Be gone, then.”

She laughed at his flash of irritation. It was the only thing she could do. Or she’d cry and crawl back into his arms and ask him to take her to his home and hold her forever. So not happening. He’d already made it clear that wasn’t ever going to happen. And she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself. She wasn’t ever going to need someone in that humiliating way—where you gave up everything you had, would do anything to be with the one you wanted.

For once she couldn’t think of the right come-back. He didn’t deserve her bitch act. But she didn’t want to be needy either. She refused to be needy, even if parts of her were yearning for him again already.

Businesslike. She finally hit on it. That was the way to deal with him. With a polite, businesslike goodbye.

“Thanks,” she said, turning to say farewell. “I had a nice—”

“Don’t you dare,” he interrupted viciously. “No fucking ‘nice’ manners from you.” With a sharp, vicious movement he leaned across and crushed her mouth with his. Startled, for a second she stiffened, only then his mouth softened and so did she. Heated. He sought pardon with his tongue, stroking deeply, stoking her response. Passionate, carnal. It was like he imprinted his masculine sexuality on her. His damn master kissing skills.