Chapter 1 #4
He shudders so hard it vibrates through me.
He starts the long withdrawal and stops with just the head of his cock in me.
Then he plunges back in, bottoms out, pauses, and flexes his hips to gain new depths.
I gasp. Being filled with him bare inside me unleashes something needy in me.
I want his mouth back on mine. The stretch is straddling the fine line between the pleasure of having him and the sting of taking him, but I need more.
The unyielding plates of his body armor push into my back as he covers me. I’m trapped in the cage of his arms against the metal of his cruiser with the lights still pulsing in the dark. The heavy vest is colder than his flesh and I hate the barrier between us.
He’s still again, breathing hard, buried in me while I struggle to relax around him. I try to push away from the car, but he knows me and denies me. I want to rush so he takes his time. I need to kiss so he pulls away when I search for his mouth.
“No one takes me like you do, Lachie. You feel so fucking good taking my cock. I can tell you wanted this, too, you’re so open and ready for me, bare under your jeans.”
Heat spreads from my face to my ears at his words, embarrassed. It is true, I wanted this. I’d spent most of the drive home wondering what today would bring, wondering if I was tempting fate coming home so late.
His hips are still, but the rumble of his chuckle echoes through me. Of fucking course he sees my blush even in the blue tinted darkness. A nuzzle on my heated skin is unexpected.
“So fucking hot for me, Lachie. So good.”
His stubble against my spine and his whisper of pleasure makes me shiver despite the way I’m sweating. I don’t make a sound. I won’t lean into his mouth, and I can’t nuzzle back. I just take.
I accept him in my body and try to memorize the sensation for when he’s not. I welcome him, but I need him to know how unaffected I am. Another nuzzle and I’m moaning, wanting to push back against the caress just as much as I want the punishing thrusts he’s working up to.
My hands are braced on his trunk and my polished platinum wedding band catches the flash of the blue lights, winking as they strobe.
“Shiny new jewelry.” His voice has a tinge of something more. Something real. Like I mean something to this man. “You’re a married man now.”
I grunt in response. Not now.
“I never did get an invite.” His thrusts slow down, but his voice is ragged. He’s close. He nips at my neck while his thrusts get shallower.
I swallow and try to push back onto his shaft, but his hold on my hip keeps me still. “You’ve never needed an invitation before to show up and take whatever you want.”
“Know this, Lachlan, I want you. I will do anything to have you. Anything. If you run from me I will find you. There is nowhere you can hide. You’re mine, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing or on what finger. Mine.” He’s sliding in again and I’m keening with each new movement.
Is he nuzzling me again? God, he’s kissing my neck. I don’t think I can cope. It’s not the hard fuck, it isn’t the soft kisses or sweet words, it’s the hard and the soft at the same time that breaks me.
“I know you want me too. You can’t hide it, your body tells me everything.” I tremble when he moans.
“I love you, Lachlan.”
He still has my hand locked down with his, so I turn my head and try to hide my face in my elbow, and focus on taking him but I can never keep my smart mouth closed. “Is getting fucked bent over your patrol car is a declaration of love these days?”
He’s still buried in me but now I’ve done it, and he comes to a halt. Why won’t he just fuck me, why does it always become a battle of wills?
Pete purrs in my ear. “Tell me you’ve missed me, Lachie.”
Oh no, we’re not talking. We’re not. His cock is buried in me, no time for conversation. I squeeze tight around him, teasing a moan out of him, but he doesn’t move.
“Shut up. Just shut up and take what you need.” Ring on my finger or not, I can’t tell him no.
I never have. This is what we do, this is who we are when we collide.
I look back at our connection, now it is his wedding band flashing in the blue lights as our fingers entwine, and too many emotions, too much sensation is spinning through me.
His grasp on my hip tightens as he starts a long slow retreat.
He is the path to what I can’t—won’t—live without.
“You are what I need. Tell me you missed me, too, Lach.”
I widen my stance as far as I can and say nothing, and let him take me hard. His groans of pleasure intensify, and I have to move. I help him, pushing back onto him, claiming his length.
He’s hot, he’s hard, and he’s slamming me with all of the force he can summon.
I love it. I love the pressure and the sting, his fingers tight on my body and feeling his face pressed into the skin of my shoulder.
His breaths are fast, heaving as he’s manhandling me, forcibly turning my head so he can fuck my mouth with his tongue while he fills me with his cock.
I forget to look for lights in the distance as his pace builds, the strokes lengthening. I close my eyes and just feel. My world disintegrates until only the bubble of us exists. For these stolen moments, everything I know can be summarized as one word: Pete.
The chance of getting caught raises the stakes, but the prick of his teeth in the flesh of my shoulder makes me forget to care.
I am where I belong, the breeze blowing his faint cologne to me, while I reach to hold him tighter to me.
These stolen moments are necessarily brief, and I need to remember all of it.
He huffs next to my ear. “I’ve fucking missed you.”
I’m panting and moaning, each thrust pushes a groan out of me. I don’t respond. I just take him and close my eyes, fantasizing about his lips on mine even as he presses his mouth to my shoulder.
“Where should I come, Lachlan? I know where you like it best, but I’m going to aim for the edge line of the road if I don’t hear it from you.”
He’s stroking me now, a bit faster each time, but teasing me with a loose grip that won’t push me over. I’d bitch but I never have to worry that he will use me and leave me hanging. He fucks like a pirate cursed to never get off without his partner finding intense satisfaction first.
He practically growls, “Give me the words.”
I’m lost. My unrelenting need to take him inside me and hold him there is my only rational thought. I have to have this, consequences be damned. I stop resisting, not sure if I ever actually started.
“Inside me, Pete. Always fucking inside me.”
“Tell me you love me, Lachlan.”
“No.” I try to say it fast, but it comes out a long slow groan. His hand slows.
No. Not again. His hand slows even more, then stops. Fucking hell.
He pulls me back up against him, almost standing with his arm slung across my chest like a steel band, holding me in place, impaled on him.
“Do you want it faster, Lachlan?”
He pushes into me hard, just once, and stays buried. I let out a sound that is close to a whine.
“My hand and my cock go the same speed. Tell me and I’ll go faster. Tell me you’ve missed this as much as I do. Tell me and I’ll give you what you need.”
“No.”
He removes his hand from my cock, slides it across my hip, over my rib cage, until he finds my nipple and starts to pinch and roll it, then he digs his fingernail into it while I moan.
“Tell me the truth.” He pulls back until just the head of his cock is inside me and gives me no more than that, almost pulling all the way out, my pucker snagging on the rim. My knees are weak, and I’m spineless, being held in place by his strength because I have none.
“I fucking love this.” I do.
“That’s not what I want to hear from your sexy mouth, Lachlan.”
“I love your cock, Pete.” I do.
“I know you do, but you won’t come until you tell me.”
“I’ve missed you.” I fucking did. I get a half thrust when I say that, but it isn’t satisfying, it’s not what I need.
“I’ve missed you, too, but we’re past that now. Tell me. Tell me or I’ll stop.” I’m barely able to speak and he starts to punctuate each word with a punishing thrust. “Give. Me. The. Words. Lachlan.” Then he is still again.
He slides his hand back down to my cock, sweeping up a bit of moisture clinging to the tip and smearing it over my weeping head.
“Please, Pete, please?”
“Say it.” His voice is a low rumble, saturated with desire. He rubs his stubble into the tender flesh of my neck again and I have a fleeting thought of the beard burn I might have in the morning, then his teeth and his cock and his hand on my shaft make me forget.
“You’re doing so good, you’re taking my cock so goddamn good,” he says, hot huffs of breath and stubble brush my neck. “Don’t you want to come? I need the words, Lachlan.”
He starts again, stroking me faster, and just when I am about to lose control and come all over the shiny paint, he slows then stops.
“Pete.” It’s a whisper, a plea. I’m so close I’m trembling.
“Say it.” He has me trained.
“I love you, Pete.” He thrusts into me once, deep and hard, and gives my cock a stroke at the same time. “I love you.” Another thrust and stroke are my reward. “I love you.” Again.
It’s pouring out of me like a mantra. “I love you. I love you.” Every time I say love, another tight stroke and a matching thrust. The faster I say it, the faster he moves, until it’s pouring out of me like one long word, “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.” With each garbled moan as his cock pushes past my spot, in seconds I’m yelling his name.
“That’s it, Lachie, come for me.” I’m vaguely aware that his voice is intense but collected while I’m melting down, sobbing that I love him again and again.
He’s holding me close, every possible inch of my bare skin held tight against his uniformed body.
“That’s it, babe. Lachie, sweetheart, come for me. Let it happen.”