Stolen Course(40)

Emma loves to challenge me, and I feel like I just won the World Series when she whispers, “Drive faster,” before sucking my earlobe into her mouth.

Pulling into my garage, I click the button on my visor to close the door behind us. As soon as the darkness cloaks the garage, she climbs into my lap. With her round ass pressing against the steering wheel, she attacks my mouth. I immediately rise under her, pushing my hardening cock against her core. The sting of her hand pulling my hair sends a spark directly to my balls.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” she asks, fiercely attacking my neck in the best possible way.

Somehow I know she isn’t talking about this moment. Maybe I’m fraying her wires as well. None of this instant connection with her makes sense, yet somehow, as she physically assaults me in my truck, it strengthens me. Like rain from the sky, a million emotions randomly fall over me. I’m down, done for, lost, and ensnared. There is no going back from Emmy.

“Funny, I could ask the same question.” I move my mouth to her covered breast.

“Condom,” she demands.

“Let’s go inside.”

“I won’t make it that long.” She grinds down against my erection, causing us both to moan.

“Wallet,” I relent, lifting my hips an inch to pull it from my back pocket. As soon as my ass is back on the seat, I reclaim her lips.

We fumble around as I try to push my jeans down and Emma tries to roll the condom over my length, but finally all the stars align. I move my tip to her wet entrance and begin to glide inside.

“Shit!” I exhale as she quickly begins to move over me. This isn’t enough, but then again, with Emma, it never is. I give her a few more strokes before stopping her completely. “Wait, sweetheart. Wait.”

“No,” she answers, continuing her rhythm.

“Damn it, stop.” I force her hips to still. “I’m not fucking you in my truck like a horny adolescent. Let’s go inside where I can take my time with you.”

“Too late.” She smiles, and it’s magnetic, pulling more than just my body to hers.

What I wouldn’t give to not be wearing this fucking condom right now. There is something so wrong about having something between us. I hold her down with my dick buried completely inside her. I won’t let her move until she says it.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“You’re mine,” she says, struggling to rise—desperate to find her release. But what she doesn’t understand is that hearing her say those words would be mine.

“Emmy, I’m not fucking around with you anymore,” I growl. “We make this work. It’s exclusive. No one touches you but me. Stop playing and tell me you get it.”

“I got it.” She gives up her fight and kisses me breathless.

“Tomorrow, I want you to get on the pill. I’m clean, and next time I’m inside you, I want to really feel you.”

A small twinkle lights her eyes. “I’m already on the pill,” she says, running her hands up my chest.

“Tell me you’re mine,” I repeat.

“Take off the condom,” she says, moving her hands into the back of my hair.

I chuckle and shake my head, knowing, as usual, that she’s still screwing with me. However, the idea of being bare inside her forces me to let it go.

Emma pushes up on her knees, allowing me just enough room to snap off the rubber barrier. No sooner than my hands are out of the way, she slams down, rejoining us completely.

“Jesus!” I shout, and she moans.

She rides me in the front seat of my truck until I honestly can’t take it anymore. I turn, depositing her on the seat beside me, and slide out the door before she can protest.

“I’m not finishing this here.” I pull my pants up then reach in and sling her over my shoulder. “My turn.” I slap her naked ass, and she lets out a loud laugh as I carry her into the house.

For over an hour, I make good on my ‘plan.’ I take my time, touching every inch of Emma’s body before finally, and truly, making her mine. Sated, we silently lie in bed while I try to figure out a way to keep her. I need some magical fix-all that can help us both overcome our bullshit. And what I really mean is for me to overcome my bullshit.

“I meant it, Emmy. We’re going to figure this out,” I whisper against her neck. “Something is going on here, and I know you feel it too. I want this. I want to see where it goes and what we can be together.”

“What if we just keep Sarah separate from us?” she asks, confusing me.

“She’s your sister. How do you propose we do that?”

“Yes, she is my sister, and I love her. I know you don’t like her, and while I adamantly disagree with your reasons, I’m not too blind to see why you would feel that way. You know I’m going to see her and talk to her, and I’m not going to lie to you about that. However, it also doesn’t mean you need all the details.”