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Fucking has always been just that…fucking.
But with her, an unwanted shift is occurring.
Already, I feel her inner muscles clenching around me, trying to draw me farther inside her body. It’s a struggle not to give in and pummel her pussy until I explode.
Inch by inch, I sink inside her until I’m finally buried to the hilt. Until I’m lightheaded and unable to think straight. With gritted teeth, I force myself to slide out again before driving forward. A moan escapes from her as my movements ramp up. My arms snake around her until each palm is filled with the rounded curves of her ass. I drag her forward until we’re pressed together. Only then do I give myself over to my instincts and fuck her the way I’ve been dreaming about. My hips piston as she wraps her legs tightly around my waist so that she’s splayed completely open.
The groan that escapes from me is deep and guttural.
As tempting as it is to squeeze my eyes tight and bask in the intensity of these newly awakened feelings, I don’t.
Can’t.
I need to see every flicker of emotion as it flashes across her face. I know what she does to me. I need to see what I do to her in return.
With every thrust, a little more of my self-control slips away. My jaw locks as I force myself to last longer than a dozen strokes.
But I can’t.
It’s not working.
It’s only a matter of time before I—
When her pussy clenches around me and a cry tears from her lips, I lose total control. It’s like an out-of-body experience. I’m pretty sure the tip of my cock explodes with the sheer force of my release as stars burst behind my eyelids. My orgasm seems to last forever. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, threatening to drag me to the very bottom of the ocean. The force of it sucks every molecule of oxygen from my lungs.
We stay fused together, our labored breathing echoing throughout the quietness of the garage. It’s only when I soften and her pussy stops spasming that a prick of regret nudges its way inside my brain. Her legs are still wrapped tightly around my waist, locking me to her, as I try to summon enough energy to move.
I search the far recesses of my brain, wondering if I’ve ever come that hard in my life.
The answer is terrifying.
The very last thing I want is for this girl to be any different from the ones who’ve come before her.
As soon as the thick haze infiltrating my brain dissipates, I pull out of her warmth and break eye contact, no longer able to meet her gaze. At a loss for words, I turn away, tucking myself back inside my boxers and hauling up my jeans before disposing of the condom in the trashcan a dozen feet away.
As soon as the lid slams shut on the garbage, the gravity of the situation slams into me, knocking the air from my lungs.
I plow a hand through my hair before swinging around to face her. It feels like there’s a lump of wet sawdust wedged in the middle of my throat as I force myself to meet her gaze. Maybe reality has hit me with the force of a sledgehammer, but it’s not the same for Poppy. She still looks blissed out of her mind. I have to fight the urge to close the distance and gather her up into my arms.
Instead of giving into my instincts, I say, “You should probably get dressed.”
Poppy
You should probably get dressed.
Those five words are all it takes to snap me out of the thick sexual fog that has descended. They’re like a sharp slap across my face as I blink back to awareness and realize I’m still sprawled naked on the counter in Mason’s pole barn while he stares dispassionately at me. Heat floods my cheeks as I attempt to kick my brain into gear and scamper off the long stretch of linoleum.
As my bare feet hit the concrete, I avert my eyes and drop down to grab my panties before hauling them up my legs. Snapping up my bra, I chance a peek at Mason. He’s turned away so that the wide expanse of his bare back faces me.
Is he so repentant that he can’t even meet my eyes?
That’s all it takes for fury to explode inside me.
I pick up the shorts and tank before covering myself. Once I’ve slipped my sandals on my feet, I glance around for my purse before nabbing it from the counter. It’s only when I’m fully dressed that I clear my throat.
If Mason thinks I’m going to slink away in embarrassment so he doesn’t have to acknowledge what happened, he couldn’t be more wrong. Even before he pulled out of my body, I caught a glimpse of the regret churning in his eyes.
The silence in the garage turns oppressive as he reluctantly turns and our gazes collide.
