Page 64 of Don't Brake My Heart
I nodded, the pain receding enough for me to miss his touch on my body, although his fingers in my hair were heavenly in another way. ‘It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt any more.’
‘Good,’ he murmured, dropping a hand to the back of my knee, a sensitive spot that made me gasp and flinch, but then he soothed me with his palm sliding casually up the back of my thigh to tease the elastic of my underwear.
‘A thigh tattoo ishot.’
His mouth was on mine again, searching and slow, then desperate. His legs were solid beneath me, the fabric of his jeans tormenting my inner thighs.
‘Pull down your top for me.’
It hadn’t even occurred to me that we were visible through the windscreen and it made me pause, shooting a furtive glance over my shoulder.
‘Quick, Lees. Show me those tits and let me get you off. I know you’re achin’ for me. I’ll take care of you before anyone sees.’
Part of me thought Colin’s voice should be illegal, since it seemed to burn my rational brain to toast, but mostly I wanted to rub his words over my skin, soak them into my body and take them home with me.
I felt the urgency in his tone, the feeling stronger than the lingering uncertainty at the back of my mind. I couldn’t imagine slipping past the swannies and the rest of the support staff (and dodging Wil and Tony) to sneak him into my room. This was happening here.
Dragging down my loose neckline, I went straight ahead and popped open the little clasp at the front of my bra. It was forest-green lace – one of my favourites – but that day it was simply convenient.
‘Christ!’ His hands clutched my ribcage, urging me up so he could take a nipple in his mouth. Working a hand up between my legs, he made a sound almost like a whimper as his finger slipped into my underwear.
The gentle pressure of his fingertip set off sparks behind my eyes. I needed so much more, even when he worked it in up to the first knuckle. Twisting, desperate for more, I forced his finger in another inch, but it still wasn’t enough, especially if this was the last time we were together.
When I fumbled for his waistband, he quickly took over, popping the button and working the fly over his straining cock. Getting my underwear off was more difficult and I hit my head on the roof of the car before I made any progress.
‘Ow!’
Slipping a leg into the footwell, I kneed him in the thigh and he yelped.
‘Shit,’ I said through gritted teeth.
Meeting my gaze with an amused twist of a smile, he steadied me while I wrenched off my underwear, then he shimmied his jeans a few inches down.
‘You’re keen,’ he drawled, dipping his head to catch my gaze, which had snagged on the straight jut of his cock, standing up ready.
‘Shut up,’ I grumbled, climbing back into his lap.
Despite the confined space, the questionable privacy and the teasing, I surprised myself by being entirely on board with this, no distractions necessary. It was a relief when he grasped his cock and lined up and I could take him inside me, the friction everything I needed.
All the breath seeped out of me and I gasped the next inhale as he shifted under me. I didn’t have much experience of being on top but that didn’t seem to matter, as he hissed and moaned at everything I did, his right hand tight on my ass and his left bowing my back so he could suck on my nipple.
I rode him, dragging his cock against me until my vision blurred, winding him up until he was panting and cursing. He nudged me back and tugged my knees up and then he was setting the rhythm. My position, braced against the steering wheel, amplified the pressure of his strokes until I was tearing apart.
‘You ever fucked in a car before, Kubicka?’
I didn’t know how he was still capable of speech, but his words made everything clench tight. I shook my head, unable to catch my breath as he seemed to go deeper each time.
‘This is a good enough fantasy just how it is, huh?’
‘Yes,’ I managed on a moan, part answer, part exclamation.
His cock slipped out from the vigorous movements and he frantically pushed it down, working it back in.
‘You look like my filthiest dreams, tits out, letting me fuck you against the steering wheel.’ He gave a grunt, his eyelids at half-mast as he gazed at me. ‘So fucking beautiful with your hair a mess and your legs spread for me.’
I was ready to fly, moving like a wild thing, desperate for more, for harder, drowning in the gratification of him surging against me, right where I needed it.
I tried to tell him how good it felt, but all I could manage was a choked inarticulate burble. My thoughts spun out, nothing connected in my brain. I was reaching for something, weeping with how close it was.
