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He slid his fingers from her warm body and she shuddered against him. She hummed out a gasping breath and sagged against the wall. He jerked his buckle open and dug into his pocket for the little box burning against his leg.
Overthinking it would make it worse. All he could think about was getting inside her, making her his.
It was a clawing need he didn’t have the mental fortitude to examine at that moment. Good thing his lizard brain had taken over.
Get inside her.
Get inside her.
He snapped the latex on and tugged out the band holding all her hair away from him. He twisted the thick length around his palm and pulled until she arched onto her toes. He glanced down to make sure he wouldn’t hurt her.
Her palms were flat and braced. Her body ready and tuned to his. Waiting.
He jerked her panties aside and slammed inside of her. She let out a guttural cry that echoed through his chest.
Instinct urged him to ask if she was okay, but that was what a Boy Scout would do. She didn’t want that.
She wanted it rough.
She wanted it raw.
He had to trust it was exactly what she craved, because there was no doubt it was what he needed too.
He wrapped his arm around her middle to shield her from the worst of the brick before he plunged into her again and again.
Curled around her, he felt his thighs scream at the angle. She was so much shorter than him and he had to crouch a little to drive up inside of her.
His dick dripped with her. The clasp of her heat and perfect pussy was the ultimate high. He shot over and up through the pleasure and past the pain until he was mired in her scent and her screams of pleasure.
Quivering thighs—maybe hers, maybe his—were the only things that saved him. Part of him could have fucked her all night long, but there was a deeper drive for release that wouldn’t be denied.
He tried to concentrate on the clasping spasm of her body. He chased it, obsessed with finding the finish line no matter how long it took.
She shattered over him.
There was no other word for the way her voice cracked and her body convulsed before she came all over him. He buried himself to the hilt and followed her. His skin was scorched and his chest heaved with exertion as he filled the condom as if it was the last one he’d ever fucking use.
The lights blurred and the city sounds drowned out against the deep breaths and caramelizing of his brain. He slumped against her and the brick that had scraped the holy hell out of his arm.
Fucking worth it.
The chaos he’d been living with went silent and his chest started working again. She trembled against him and he held her tight. He was loath to pull out of her.
There would be the harsh realities of fucking his best friend.
He wasn’t ready for them.
If he could, he’d walk her into the damn motel with his dick still half hard inside of her. But he couldn’t. He pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades and hissed as he pulled out.
He jerked his pants up and swung her into his arms.
“Ryan!” She gripped his shoulder, her huge brown eyes just a little unfocused. Good. He needed to keep her there.
Shit. Her jeans still hung off one ankle. He shuffled her closer and flicked the denim up until it pooled in her lap. “Inside. I’m not done with you.”
“You’re not?”
“Definitely not.”
