He breaks the kiss just enough to growl against my lips. “You drive me fucking insane.”
“Good,” I breathe, nipping his bottom lip. “Do something about it.”
He lifts me, effortless, big hands under my ass, fingers sinking into the plush softness, gripping like he’s memorizing every curve. He carries me to the truck bed, sets me down with a gentle thud on the rough mat. The metal’s cold against my back through the fabric, but I barely notice. He doesn’t waste time, yanks my tank top up and over my head, tossing it aside. My bra follows. Cool night air hits my full breasts, nipples tightening instantly, heavy and sensitive. He groans, low, animalistic, palms sliding up my belly, cupping my tits, thumbs brushing the peaks.
“Fuck, look at these,” he rasps, voice wrecked. “So full. So heavy. Perfect..” He drops his head, sucks one nipple hard, teeth grazing, tongue flicking and I cry out, back arching off the metal
. He switches to the other, sucking deep, growling against my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. This body—soft, curvy, made for my hands. These hips? Christ. Drives me wild. Your belly it’s soft, perfect and I want to bury my face in it. Your thighs, thick, strong, wrapping around me like you’ll never let go.”
His hands are everywhere, rough, possessive, sliding down to my shorts, popping the button, shoving them down my thighs along with my panties. I’m bare now, wet and aching, the cool air hitting my exposed skin. He spreads my thighs wide, his jeans still on, rough denim scraping the insides of my legs.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he murmurs, voice reverent but filthy. “So wet for me already. Dripping.”
He drags two fingers through my folds, slowly, teasing and then pushes them inside, curling deep. I moan loud, head falling back against the blanket.
“That’s it. Take it. Let me feel how much you want me. Fuck, every inch of you is perfect. Soft belly, thick thighs, full tits bouncing while I fuck you. You’re made for me, Layla. Every goddamn part.”
He pumps his fingers, rough and fast, thumb circling my clit in tight, relentless strokes. My hips buck, thighs trembling around his waist.
“Cole—please—”
“Please what?” he growls, adding a third finger, stretching me wide. “Tell me what you need.”
“You,” I gasp. “Inside me. Now.”
He doesn’t hesitate, stands, unzips his jeans, pulls his cock out, thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. He strokes once, slow, deliberate, eyes locked on mine.
“You want this?”
“Yes,” I breathe, spreading my legs wider. “Fuck me, Cole. Hard.”
He grabs my hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, bruising in the best way and slams into me in one rough thrust. I cry out—half pain, half pleasure—back arching off the blanket, nails raking down his arms through his t-shirt. He doesn’t give me time to adjust—just starts fucking me hard, deep, relentless.The truck rocks with every snap of his hips, metal creaking, blanket bunching under me.
“Fuck, look at you,” he groans, voice wrecked. “Taking me so good. These thighs wrapped around me, soft and strong. These hips, Jesus, the way they move when I fuck you. Perfect. So fucking perfect.”
His hands slide up, gripping my breasts, squeezing rough. “These tits bouncing for me. Made for my mouth. My hands. My cock. Your belly, I want to feel it against me every time I bury myself in you.”
I’m moaning nonstop, loud, shameless, head thrown back, stars spinning above us. He’s everywhere, filling me, stretching me, dominating every inch of my body. One hand slides between us, thumb finding my clit again, rubbing fast, hard circles that make my whole body seize.
“Cum for me,” he growls, hips snapping deeper. “Cum on my cock, Layla. Let me feel it. Let me feel you fall apart. Let me feel this perfect pussy clench around me while I fuck every inch of this body that’s been driving me crazy since the day you got here.”
I shatter, back arching off the truck bed, vision whiting out, a scream tearing from my throat as I clench around him, wave after wave crashing through me. He follows right after, hips stuttering, burying deep with a broken groan, spilling inside me, hot and thick, his whole body shuddering above mine.
We stay locked together, panting, sweat-slick, hearts hammering against each other. His forehead drops to mine, breath ragged against my lips.
I can’t speak. Just nod, tears slipping down my temples, not from pain, but from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it of him finally taking without holding back and finally saying something other than stay.
Chapter 29
Happy Birthday
Cole
“Happy birthday big bro,” Maggie says to me while I’m walking into the kitchen for breakfast.
The room smells like fresh coffee, bacon grease, and warm biscuits, Nancy’s usual spread, the kind that usually makes my stomach growl. Today it just sits heavy.
“Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing a plate, voice rough from sleep and the knot in my throat.
