Page 53 of Something Like That

The tingling concentrated at the base of his cock. Morphed into a throb. His heart pounded once, twice, and then boom. The pressure gave way.

Pleasure flooded his system. His back arched, his hips flexing with every hard throb of his cock. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes, a riot of colors all swirling together in a symphony of torture, a harmony of bliss.

Her name tore itself from his throat. A plea and a prayer.

Agony and ecstasy.

And then it was over, just as quickly as it came.

He collapsed back on the seat, letting the breath saw in and out of his lungs. Cross fit had nothing on a fantastic orgasm. Holy fuck, that had been intense.

She kept his cock in her mouth, her movements slower and softer, but no less incredible. He trembled from head to toe, his muscles jerking and jumping with each languid swipe of her tongue along the shaft. It was almost too much, but he also didn’t want it to stop.

He reached down and ran his hand over her hair, almost petting her. Fuck, she was amazing.

She swiped her tongue up the length of him, and then gave one last gentle suck on the head.

His entire body shook. A groan slid out of him, the sensation bordering on painful. Almost like pins and needles. “Oh, fuck.” The curse low, guttural. He was going to have to learn a new word to describe his feelings. He lifted his head to stare at her.

She let go of him and sat up, as best she could crammed in like she was, and licked her gorgeous lips. That peek of her perfect, talented tongue sent another small shock of need through him. As if he just hadn’t had the orgasm of the century.

The moments ticked by, the only sound the light pattering of rain on the roof and windshield. He didn’t know what to say, how to articulate what he was feeling.

It didn’t help that his brain was currently fried. Forget sentences, he’d be lucky if he could string two coherent words together. All he could do was stare at her.

She glanced away for a second, and then back at him. “Was it good?” Her voice was low, a thread of uncertainty wrapped around the question.

Shit. Now he’d made her doubt herself.

“Oh, wildcat, good doesn’t begin to describe what you just did.” His voice was all cracked and raspy.

Her lips tilted up in a shy, sweet smile. Warmth spread through his chest. Fuck if he knew what that was about. And he was way too exhausted to figure it out.

She shifted. Guilt speared him like the end of a stick to the ribs. Even though every cell in his body protested, he pushed himself up and reached for her.

She climbed into his lap and nudged him down, draping herself over his body like a blanket. A beautiful, warm, sexy blanket.

He sighed, and wrapped his arms around her. She lowered her mouth to his, coaxing his lips open with the brush of her tongue. Not that he needed much coaxing. The salty heat of him lingered on her tongue. It was fucking hot.

She pulled away, placing her palm on his chest and then propping her chin on the back of her hand. With her free hand, she reached up and brushed a lock of hair off of his forehead. The moment was intimate and comforting.

It should have freaked him out. But, for some reason, it didn’t.

“It’s been a long time since I made out with someone in a car.” She smiled, the words amused and teasing.

He thought about it for a second. Scrunched his eyebrows together. “I’ve never made out with anyone in a car before.”

“Really?” She sounded shocked.

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Not even in high school?” She pushed herself up so she could stare down at his face, her gaze searching.

He shook his head again. “Nope, not even in high school.”

“How is that possible?”

He shrugged, the movement awkward with her on top of him. Not that he was complaining. He liked the feel of her against him.