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I bring one hand to his hair. I rock my hips to meet him.
He rocks back, driving deeper, pinning me to the wall.
It's hard and dirty and rough and perfect.
His tongue slides around mine.
His fingers dig into my flesh.
He fucks me with steady thrusts, winding me up, giving me everything he has.
My clit rubs against his pubic bone.
My hand knots in his hair.
My sex clenches.
Fuck.
Each thrust tightens the knot inside me. Pleasure pools between my legs. It aches, being this close to release.
He winds me tighter.
Tighter.
There.
I groan against his lips as I come. My sex pulses around him, pulling him closer, pushing him over the edge.
I can feel it in the way his nails dig into my skin, in the way he nips at my lip, in the way he shakes.
A few more thrusts and he's pulsing, groaning my name as he comes inside me.
Fuck, that feels good.
He feels good.
I let my muscles go slack.
He pulls me closer. Sets me on the ground. Looks down at me like I'm everything he wants.
Maybe I am.
Maybe this is going to be okay.
Maybe he really will be mine.
Chapter Forty-Three
Iris
Walker's car hugs the curve of the Malibu mountains.
Tegan and Sara flows from the speakers. The song is soft, remorseful, a text alert?
Huh?
Oh. My phone flashes.
