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“So full,” I whisper, his length filling me up and calming the nerves twisting my stomach to knots. “So good.”

Ryann chuckles, slipping his fingers under my shirt. “Let me take this off. I want to touch you.”

Despite my earlier sentiment, doubt rushes in, causing me to drop my forehead and mumble into the seat. He still hasn’t moved, content just to warm his cock inside of me, and I can’t say I hate it.

Actually kind of like it.

His lips find the back of my neck, tongue lapping at the sweat, his hand snaking around to play with my limp dick. I hadn’t even noticed I’d gone soft.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers, nuzzling against my nape. “You’re beautiful, baby. So perfect.”

I hear his words. I do. And yet, there’s that vile voice in my head, hissing that he’s only saying these things because he’s currently buried inside of me. That he wouldn’t be saying them, or even thinking them, if we weren’t having sex.

So I shake my head, reaching back to feel the hair on his thick thighs. “Can I turn around?”

My arms feel empty, an odd ache in my chest to hold onto something. Anything.

He hesitates, breathing unevenly against my neck before letting go of my shaft to pull me up. “Here, we’ll do it like this, okay?”

With my back to his chest, he sits down so that I’m straddling him backwards. The new position has his crown hitting me just right, and I buck my hips, crying out in pleasure.

“Mm, fuck,” he growls, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. “Just like that. Ride me, Shilo.”

Gripping the front seat, I bounce on my knees, hard cock now leaking profusely, sounds coming out of me I’ve never heard before. Desperate, needy, incoherent. He thrusts up, pounding into me so deep that I fall forward, my eyes stinging with some unnamed emotion when he places a hand over my erratic heart to hold me up. I’m so close, legs trembling as my head falls back against his shoulder, and just when I’m about to tip over that edge, he reaches down to grip both my length and balls in one tight squeeze, effectively cutting off my orgasm in its tracks.

“What the hell?“ I snarl, tears spilling over my lashes as I try to move, but he’s got me pinned.

“If you come right now, so will I, and I’m not done with you yet.” His hot breath in my ear makes me shiver, the windows fogged from our heavy breathing as he gently wraps his free hand around my throat. “Slow down, baby doll. Nice and slow.”

God, when he calls me that…

Releasing my dick, he uses my waist to lift me gently before pushing me back down, sliding inside at a pace that has a sob breaking past my lips. It feels too good. He feels too good. His strong arms cage me, lap as broad and comfortable as I knew it would be, the scent of his cologne mixed with leather and sweat.

Too much, too much.

I don’t even realize I’m holding his hand until his fingers flex against mine, helping me ride him leisurely, his tongue licking at the tears tracking down my face. He’s whispering words that I barely believe, sweet lies that make my throat close and chest tighten with desires that I’m too scared to acknowledge as I give myself over wholly and completely.

He said this would just be fucking. He told me I couldn’t handle it.

As both our orgasms slam into us, my cum shooting onto my neck and chin as his release fills the condom inside of me, I can’t help but think…

This didn’t just feel like fucking.

And he was absolutely right.

I wanted to fall asleep after we finished, but Ryann wouldn’t let me. Once the high faded and we caught our breaths, he pulled out of me silently. Tied off the condom and stashed it in a grocery bag while avoiding my gaze, the air between us thick while we pulled on the rest of our clothes.

Without him inside of me, I feel almost empty, my hole twinging when I slip back into the passenger seat with a wince. Either he doesn’t notice or just doesn’t care, because he says nothing as he puts the car in drive and merges back onto the main road toward CalTek. Silence stretches between us the entire ride, unbroken until he pulls up next to Mom’s Corolla. Clearing his throat, he finally speaks.

“I leave Sunday to meet with a client and won’t be back until next week. We’ll be closed for the holiday then, so I’ll see you after Thanksgiving.”

Frowning, I peek at him from beneath my hair. “Where? I didn’t see anything about it on your schedule?”

His jaw ticks at the corner, gaze locked on the windshield. “Florida. It just came up today.”

Something tells me he’s lying. Who is he meeting? What’s the reason? But it’s not my business, right? So I simply nod and mumble a goodbye as I stiffly grab my bag and exit the vehicle. The moment the door shuts behind me, he’s gone, headlights blurring when I gaze numbly after him with watery eyes.

Everything hurts. My legs, from balancing on him. My throat from breathing and moaning too hard. My asshole. My heart.