Page 22 of Good Intentions, Vol. 3

“What are you doing?” He trails his palms down my legs, to my knees and pulls them apart.

Stepping between them, he trails his eyes lazily up my body, leaving a war between goosebumps and tingles on my body behind.

“You cannot pour your heart in that car and expect me not to do anything.”

I look around. We’re alone, not a person to be found. Looking back at him, I release my shirt. It’s the only confirmation he needs. He pulls me to him, my ass sliding of the cooling metal, my crotch coming into contact with his hard dick and he kisses me. His kiss is so raw, my head starts to spin, I can’t get a full breath in and instinctively, I start to grind my pussy on his dick.

“Nick,” I pant when his lips trail down to my neck.

“I’m here,” he mutters right before he crashes his lips to mine.

The sweet sensation of having his lips again is my undoing and I start crying again. When his tongue enters my mouth I can finally taste him. He breaks the kiss and trails his lips over my face, sucking each and every tear.

“No more crying, baby,” he mutters. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

He goes back to kissing me and I try to make sense of this new development but I get lost. In him and his kiss. He unzips my dress and opens it.

“Nick,” I say urgently checking again if we’re alone.

“There’s no one here,” he assures me while watching his hands glide over my chest. He takes my dress off and steps away when I’m left in nothing but my underwear and pumps.

“Christ,” he groans. His hands go to my waist and he hoists me up the hood of his car.

His hands move between us and in the silence I hear his zipper as he opens it. I look down and am met with the sight of his hand going up and down over his cock.

“Nick,” I whimper.

Pulling me to him, he shifts then steps between my legs again. The stark contrast between hard metal on my back and soft hands grabbing at my skin is such a turn on I can hardly see. Nick looks briefly in my eyes and when he sees nothing but pure want, he takes his cock in his hand again and circles my clit with it.

“God, Nick,” I moan.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Heather,” the seduction in his tone is unbearable. “I’m going to fuck you and I don’t care what will happen after. I need you, pretty girl.”

I don’t get a chance to ask him what he means because he nudges my opening with his dick and then slowly, oh so slowly, starts gliding in. When he fills me to the hilt I sigh in contentment. I open my mouth to tell him I missed him, to tell him I waited so long to have him again, to tell him I never want to let him go. To tell him I love him, but, I never get the chance. The moment he hears me sigh, he pulls out almost completely, then in one swift move, he thrusts brutally in.

“Nick,” I scream. It’s the most beautiful pain I ever experienced.

He halts for a moment. I can’t open my eyes but I know he’s watching me, watching for my reaction, so I nod my head. He pulls out slowly again, and again, he thrusts back in with all the strength he has in him. My heels are digging in the skin of his thighs but that only seems to fuel him more, because the glide out is getting faster and faster and his thrusts become so powerful he has to put his hand on the top of my head to stop me from sliding on the hood.

“Nick,” I half moan half scream after he fills me again so hard I can feel it in my chest.

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Scream my name, pretty girl.”

The moment I hear him calling me that name an explosion happens in me. I bow my back, dig my head in metal and start clawing at his arms.

“Fuck,” I hear him explode before his thrust turn from brutal to savage and after three more, he stops.

He holds me to his body while each of us breathes hard. I turn my head and nuzzle his ear with my nose, but he pulls away and puts me to my feet. After he helps me to get dressed, he guides my shaking body to the car door, opens it and helps me get in. I don’t say anything, just watch him as he fastens my seatbelt, closes the door and rounds the car and enters it.

“Nick,” I whisper when he gets us back on the road.

“Don’t,” he says. He’s again focused on driving and acts as if nothing happened.

After the longest and quietest ride of my life, we’re finally back in the city and Nick glides the car in the parking spot outside my apartment building. I expect him to do something, to say something, but he just turns his head and looks at me waiting for me to get out. Swallowing down my tears, I whisper “Okay,” and open my door.

I have my left leg on the pavement when his hand flashes out and grabs my forearm making me stop.

“Before you leave this car, you gotta know something,” he starts.