Page 20 of Knotting Autumn

I couldn’t wait to see him as wild and out of control as I felt.

“Thorne, I am about to lose my damn mind. If you won’t fuck me right now, I’m going to get out of this car and find someone else who will.”

The snarl that ripped out of him didn’t sound human. He was really committed to the werewolf bit. Before I could so much as smile, he was grabbing my hips, yanking me forward, and thrusting inside of me.

The ecstasy of being filled overwhelmed me, and my back arched, my eyes squeezing shut. My lips parted, and I let out a ridiculous moan followed by a string of curse words as he rocked back and slammed in.

Gasping, I clenched around him, realizing he wasn’t fully sheathed. His head dropped, his focus between my legs as he worked himself deeper. My body relaxed as pleasure loosened my muscles.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured. “Open up wider for me, let me in.”

My legs fell open as wide as possible in the tight space, and he rewarded me with a deeper thrust that had my vision blurring. The stretch of him was otherworldly, the discomfort turning to pleasure as my body accepted him. No other partner, no toy, nothing else compared to this.

Then he began fucking me in earnest.

I flung my hands out, one gripping the side of the front passenger's seat while the other grabbed the handle above the window. Leveraging myself, I hooked one leg around his hip, letting the other fall wide, and pushed up to meet him, adjusting my angle so he rubbed my clit with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I moaned, my orgasm building quickly. I was so aroused, it wouldn’t take much.

Thorne’s hand rested over mine, gripping the edge of the front seat so he could pound into me harder. We were mindless, rutting animals, and I loved it.

Dragging my nails down his back, I did my best to leave a mark. His chest vibrated like he was growling or purring. I couldn’t tell. The sound of our harsh breathing and the slap of skin filled the SUV’s cabin.

“Thorne, I’m going to—” I tried to warn him, wanting him to stay steady and not suddenly stop or change positions. That was always what happened with my partners in the past.

But Thorne seemed to know what I needed. He continued to fuck me into oblivion, his forehead pressing to mine.

“Good. Come for me so I can knot you.”

His words didn’t register. They were nonsense. That burning tension, the teetering sensation, all broke at once, and I screamed.

My soul left my body, everything went white, and distantly, I was aware of Thorne pressing into me, seating himself deeply, and slowing to small, jerky thrusts as he came too.

The heat of his release flooded inside of me, triggering aftershocks that had me gasping, the world spinning around us. His dick felt massive. My heavy breathing was broken with small gasps as pleasure rippled through me.

Panting, I slowly returned to myself. Thorne’s sweat-slicked skin pressed to mine. His head hung down, and his chest was heaving too. Good to know that was as intense for him as it was for me, because holy shit. Maybe it was because I’d been wound so tight for the last few days, or maybe it was his monster cock, but that was the best sex of my life.

Slowly, I blinked and focused my vision on Thorne. He looked up, meeting my gaze. His eyes were definitely glowing, and they were beautiful. It had to be the reflected streetlights.

We were on a public street! What was I thinking?

Startling, I jerked back, trying to look around. My hips stayed in place, as if I was glued to Thorne.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Relax,” he murmured, brushing my hair back and going in for a kiss.

I turned my head. “No, this was a royally bad idea, and we need to get dressed and get out of here.”

“Patience, Vixen.”

His dick wasn’t coming out of me. It was still huge, and hard as a tree trunk, and lodged so deep inside, I could feel him in parts of me I didn’t know were possible.

“Um, Thorne, did you not finish? ‘Cause I thought you did, but we should be done now, and…”

His brows furrowed. “You’re my mate. I knotted you. To keep my seed inside of you and get you pregnant.”

“Oh no, I can’t get pregnant, bud,” I snapped, focusing on the second part of what he said. But the term “knotted” ricocheted in my head.

“What do you mean, knotted?”