“Ryan. . .”
“Yes, Savannah,” he replies in an instant, his voice as rough as mine but a hundred times hotter. It is like ice cream on a hot summer day: heavenly. “What do you need?”
“I need. . . I want. . .”
My tongue darts out to clear a bead of sweat from his neck before my brain can command it not to. Any hang-ups I’m having evaporate when his taste fills my senses. Even his sweat tastes better than I remembered.
After swiveling his hips to reveal I’m not the only one being led by lust, Ryan commands, “Tell me want you want, Savannah.”
I contemplate a ladylike way to express my needs. It is a futile two seconds. “I want you to fuck me, Ryan.” I’m not the least bit embarrassed. I’m too drunk with need to register shame. “Ineedyou to fuck me. Please.”
My second plea barely leaves my mouth before Ryan drags his truck to the side of the road and frees his cock from its tight restrains. White spots dance in front of my eyes when his engorged crown grazes my aching clit. I’m in so much of a lust haze, I didn’t even register a change in position. My shuddering knees are now straddling Ryan’s hips, and my heaving breasts are squashed against his firm pecs.
After slipping my panties to the side, he guides his eye-bugging member up and down my glistening slit, coating himself with my arousal. I grind against him like a nymph, loving that I’m on the brink of ecstasy while still clothed. Ten years have passed since I’ve felt this crazy ebb and flow sensation—ten lonely motherfucking years—but you wouldn’t know it. I am as giddy as the teenage girl I was once.
Recognizing that I’m five seconds from detonating, Ryan nestles the crest of his cock between the folds of my pussy. When he drives home, I call out, loving the burn of taking a man his size without preparation. It’s been a long time since I’ve been stretched this wide.
“Fuck, Savannah,” Ryan groans, appreciating my pussy clenching around him. “Perfect. Nothing less than perfect.”
He doesn’t wait for me to acclimate to his girth before withdrawing to the tip of his cock. When he rams back in, his second lunge is more brutal than his first. I don’t mind his aggression. Actually, it’s hot. For the near year we were together, Ryan never fucked me. We had sex, and we made love, but he couldn’t hurt me in or out of the bedroom, so fucking was a no-go zone.
Don’t mistake my admission; nothing he is doing now is hurting me. It feelswaytoo good to be anything close to pain.
After securing a grip on my hip, Ryan’s other hand weaves through my sweat-drenched hair. His dominant hold aids in guiding me up and down his cock at a speed that drives me wild. I meet his thrusts even more aggressively, taking what I need without any hesitation. I’ve been dying for this day for years, so I’m going to relish every perfect second.
“Harder,” I breathe out in a moan, my one word barely audible over our combined groans. “Faster—fuck me, Ryan. Fuck me.”
His hot breath fans my lips when he meets my request with the determination of a madman. His pumps turn frantic, bringing the finish line to within an inch of my spent face. I brace my hands against the roof of his truck when his crown flicks the sweet spot inside me. The change in position adds even more stimulation to my overflowing plate.
Ryan’s mouthwatering pelvic bone smashes into my clit with every grind, and the stubble on his chin grazes my breasts through my thin cotton shirt.
“Sweet Jesus,” I pant, my tone spiraling as crazily as my mind.
Ryan rocks his hips forward so effectively, my head grazes the roof with every thrust. I moan on repeat, loving the craziness of our exchange. We aren’t making love. We aren’t even having sex. We are fucking like two people who can’t get enough of each other—because that ispreciselywho we are.
When a familiar tingle in my core becomes too great to ignore, I snap my eyes shut. Ryan tightens his grip in my hair, wordlessly demanding my focus back to him. As a bead of sweat glides down his cheek, he stares into my eyes. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t need to speak for me to hear his thoughts. He’s not just claiming my pussy; he’s claiming every inch of me.
“Ohh. . .” I purr in an eccentric moan when the sensation gripping every inch of me turns blinding.
While holding Ryan’s heavy-hooded gaze, I moan through the climax shredding my core as effortlessly as his promising eyes crumble the wall I built ten years ago.
He grinds into me another four times before my name leaves his mouth in a throaty groan. The heat of his seed coating my pussy catapults my climax to a never-before-reached level.
There is nothing that could take away from this moment.
Not a single thing.
Not even the flashing of police lights behind us.
Chapter 17
Ryan
Islam Savannah's quivering pussy to the base of my cock. I'm not only ensuring she gets every drop of spawn still streaming out of my rock-hard shaft, I'm guaranteeing the flare of her skirt hides the intimate way our bodies are conjoined from the two officers approaching my window.
Fuck—tonight turned outnothinglike I had planned. The natural attraction that always bristles between Savannah and me was in abundance the past week, but with her spending more time running from me than talking to me, I was certain we wouldn't succumb to our desires for months, if ever.
I shouldn’t have fucked her like I did. Even pissed that she puts her body on show multiple times a night for dirty old pervs, I shouldn’t have punished her with my cock. It isn’t that I want to hurt her; I just can’t control myself around her. Time hasn’t altered the facts. Savannah is my weak spot. Anything she wants, I give her.
