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“You can take me. You feel so good,” he groaned, the muscles in his neck twitched from the effort of maintaining control.
He slowly pushed further as he kissed me, and I kissed him back as he filled me up, stretching me until he was fully inside, pleasure and pain warping together.
I tried to move but his fingers dug into my flesh, holding me tight against him.
“If I feel so good,” I breathed, “why aren’t you—?”
“Because,” he grunted against my lips, his brow furrowed. “I’m in danger of coming right now. I want to make this really good for you.”
“But it does feel good,” I breathed. “Move. Please.”
He began to thrust shallowly, his hands grasping my hips so hard I knew I’d have marks for days.
He pressed his thumb against my clit and I took his whole length inside me. We both groaned and he held me still against him.
“I’m not going to last long. You’ve got me so worked up.” He trailed kisses down my neck, and my pussy fluttered around his length.
“I’m close too.”
At last, he moved, slowly at first, guiding me up and then slamming into me with every thrust. I rode him, gripping his shoulders, skin slapping against skin with the distant roar of engines on the racetrack. With each thrust, a sweet pressure built in my core, building towards my climax.
“I will give you everything you need and want right now but just give me a name. A first name. A nickname. Please.”
He saidpleasewith such longing.
“Why?” I breathed.
“I want your name on my lips when I come inside you. Give me that.”
He flicked my clit with his thumb as he thrust up. A pulse of pleasure built up my climax to something even more powerful than before. I whimpered and moaned, unable to form words.
“Please,” he grunted. “A name.”
I tried to reply but all I could do was make noises like an animal.
“Do you want me to call you ‘Not Phil’ when I come?” A smirk tugged at his lips as he slammed into me again, making me groan. His thumb circled my clit, almost touching.
I was drawn in by his hungry gaze. Telling him my real, full first name—which I was never called—felt like offering him yet another secret.
“Anastasia,” I whispered.
He grinned, his strokes becoming faster, brutal.
“Oh god, I’m—” A wave of pleasure shook me as my pussy grabbed at his length. “I’m so close.”
“Anastasia,” he growled.
“Tell me yours!”
“Harrison,” he grunted. “Say it. I want to hear you say it.”
My head lolled as I moved faster, my inner thigh muscles burning with the effort. “Harrison,” I moaned.
“Say it again,” he demanded again, his hips pistoning up as mine met him thrust for thrust. “Come for me, Anastasia. Come for me.”
I cried out as I came, calling his name as wave after wave shook me. With the last wave of my orgasm, he followed me over the edge, coming with a shout, holding me against him, my name on his lips with his release.
I slumped against him, panting. Sweat beaded down my neck and over my breasts. The windows were fogged. The car smelled of sex, sweat and leather. He buried his mouth in my neck, alternating between kissing and catching his breath. I didn’t want to move again.
