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“No. More. Come on.” I roll my hips forward, trying to get more of him, and he gives in easily, shoving the rest of his cock inside me in one smooth motion. The fact that I’m so wet I’m probably going to leave a mess on the hood of his car makes it all the easier, and then he’s deep inside me, his balls pressing right up against my pussy.
His hands are at my waist, and the fingers dig in tightly, like he needs something to hold on to. I’m doing the same thing with my hands at his shoulders, and my legs are tight around his waist, like I’m afraid he’ll pull out and leave me wanting if I give him too much room to move. We stay locked together for a long second, both of us breathing through the feeling, and then he does move, drawing himself back enough that I can feel the slide of that thick cock, every ridge and vein in it as he pulls out and then slams back in, rocking the car and my body along with it.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan, the sensation overwhelming me for a moment.
Rory just smirks and continues, setting a pace that’s fast and deep and doesn’t give me time to so much as catch my breath.
But that’s what I want.
I want my head clear, just focused on how good this feels. I want to lose myself in the slide of our bodies, the way his balls slap against my skin when he slams into me again and again.
He leans down to catch my mouth in a messy kiss, and that’s fucking good too. I moan into it, holding on to him and rocking with him, meeting him in the middle while he shoves his tongue in my mouth.
It hasn’t been long at all since my last orgasm, just a matter of minutes, but fuck, I can already feel myself cresting that peak again. His cock is hitting all the right places, the thick, blunt head finding my g-spot with impressive accuracy and laying into it, hitting that button over and over again.
“You’re so good,” he pants, breaking from the kiss to huff warm breath against my face. “You’re so fucking good. So tight and wet for me.”
I swallow hard and squeeze my walls around his cock like I’m trying to milk him for all he has. “Harder,” I pant out. “Fuck, Rory. Please. I wanna feel it.”
I’m babbling, and I sound desperate as hell, but from the moan Rory gives, it’s pretty clear he’s into it. He nods and reaches down lower to grip my ass, setting his fingers firmly into the flesh of it so he can use it for leverage. I don’t have to work my hips anymore because he’s dragging me into each thrust, practically using my body for both of our pleasure.
All I can do is hold on to him, my breath coming out in high whines that echo just a bit in the garage. Anyone inside the house would probably be able to hear it, but I don’t care about that even a little bit in this moment. All I’m focused on is his massive dick inside me and how close I am to coming on it.
And I’m real damn close.
Each punishing thrust knocks me just that bit closer to the edge, and I can feel my inner walls fluttering, the pulse of my heart echoing right down through to my clit.
I’m so close, so, so close, and I realize I’ve been saying that out loud, repeating it like a plea for Rory to tak
e me right over the edge.
He doesn’t disappoint, either.
His hips snap harder, faster, and he grinds into me on the end of each thrust, letting me really feel him. It’s incredible, and that heat burns out of control, sparking a fire that starts an explosion of pleasure inside me. I nearly scream, but I bury my face in the crook of Rory’s neck instead, muffling the sound as he fucks me through my orgasm.
I can tell he’s getting close too by the way the measured quality of his thrusts has turned into something messier and more erratic. He’s chasing his pleasure, and when I go tight from my own orgasm, he swears under his breath and slams into me a few more times before he finishes on a deep groan.
The feel of his cock pulsing inside me sends a shiver down my spine, and I cling to him with my arms and legs, still rocking against him a little to draw out the last fluttery sensations of pleasure.
He holds on to me just as tightly, locking our bodies together like he never wants us to separate.
Like he never wants to let go.
12
It takes a minute or two for us both to come down from the high of our orgasms. I keep holding on to Rory, and he strokes my back with his big hands, muttering muffled words against my skin.
I try to remember how to breathe, how to think, but my breath comes back before my sanity does.
And when rationality returns, it hits me full-force in the face.
What the fuck am I doing? Why do I keep letting the line get blurred like this?
I’m not supposed to be catching feelings for these guys. Not for real, anyway. It’s supposed to be a game, a ruse, something to get me close enough to them that I can find out what I need to know to destroy them. I’m supposed to flirt with them, but having sex on the hood of Rory’s car is definitely a step too far.
I know I can’t trust Sloan, but not even Rory and Levi are safe to fall for like this. I don’t think they know anything about my dad, but that doesn’t matter. I can’t let it matter.
There’s too much at stake, and I’m supposed to be taking them down. Ruining them. That’s the point of all this.
