Chapter 20 Lena #2
"That's it. Take this cock." His words are grit and sin.
"You wanted more, so come get it." He keeps thrusting, keeps driving up into me with the kind of focus he uses on a firing range.
He doesn't falter. Sweat trickles down my spine.
My dress is bunched around my waist. His dog tags swing between us, tapping my sternum with each stroke.
I love that sound, metallic and rhythmic, like proof he's still the soldier even with his jeans shoved open.
I move with him, rocking down every time he surges up.
The motion sends shockwaves through my body.
My breasts bounce against his chest. His mouth closes around one nipple, sucking hard through the fabric, teeth grazing.
"Ahh, yes!" I arch into him, giving him more.
He bites lightly, a warning, then soothes with his tongue.
It's too much. Not enough. Both. My clit grinds against him, and I feel a pulse deep inside, a coiled spring ready to snap.
"You close again?" he demands. He knows the answer just from the way I clamp around him, but he still wants me to admit it.
"Yes," I pant. "Oh, God, yes. Right there." I press a hand to the fogged rear window for balance, fingers leaving streaks in the condensation.
He grips my throat with one broad hand, not choking, just holding me still so I have to look at him. "Come for me. Do it now." The command slams into me. My body obeys before my brain can process it.
My climax hits in a white-hot rush, ripping through me with a sharp scream. "Ahh!" The sound bounces off the dash. I tremble, hips jerking, muscles fluttering around him. He keeps thrusting through it, dirty praises pouring from his mouth, each one feeding the pleasure.
"Good girl," he rasps. "So damn tight. Milk me." He groans when I clamp down, his own breath hitching. I ride the waves, shaking, nails biting into his scalp as I hold on. Every pulse drags a whimper from me.
"Yes," I cry, unable to form real words.
He doesn't stop. Even as the aftershocks make me twitch, he keeps moving, keeps giving me thick, deep strokes that scrape at the edges of another orgasm. My body is sensitive to the point of pain, but I crave every thrust.
"Gabe," I whine, half plea, half worship. "It's too much." My head falls back, colliding lightly with the roof liner. I don't care. I can't stop moving.
"It's exactly what you needed," he counters, voice soft but absolute. "You asked for more, you get more." He shifts, seat creaking, and suddenly his angle changes. The head of his cock slams into that sweet spot over and over, sending sparks flying behind my eyes.
"Oh, fuck!" I shriek. "Ahh! Right there!"
He pounds me faster, relentless now. The car rocks on its shocks.
If anyone walks by, they'll see the fogged windows, the way the interior lights flicker each time my back hits the dome light switch.
I don't care. We're in our own world here.
His lips trail sloppy kisses along my neck, teeth scraping my shoulder.
He sucks a spot just above my collarbone, leaving a wet mark I'll have to cover later.
The thought turns me on even more. I want his claim stamped on my skin, proof of this moment.
His fingers dig into my hips again, tightening, urging me to bounce harder. "There you go," he growls. "Use that pretty body." I slam down, meeting every thrust. The wet sounds get filthier. My orgasm hasn't even finished and another one lurks, building fast.
I pant his name over and over, a chant. "Gabe, Gabe, Gabe." It's a prayer and a warning.
He presses his thumb to my clit, circling with ruthless precision. "Come again." His tone leaves no room for argument. My body obeys. The second orgasm hits even harder.
I cry out, "Oh, fuck!" and clamp down around him. My thighs quake. My hands fly to his forearms, clinging. He hisses through his teeth, jaw tight, trying to ride it out without losing control.
"Yeah, that's it. Ride it, baby. Cream on this cock."
I gush around him, soaking us both. The slick lubrication makes his thrusts even smoother, more devastating.
He groans loud, the sound vibrating into my chest. "Jesus, Lena.
" His breathing turns ragged. He's close too, I can tell by the way his cock throbs inside me, the way his hips start to stutter.
"Come in me," I plead, voice rough. "I want it.
" The words send another shiver through me.
I drag his mouth to mine, kissing him hard, swallowing the rough noises he makes.
He answers with a feral kiss, teeth clashing, tongues tangling.
"Please," I murmur against his lips, grinding down even as my legs threaten to give out.
He squeezes my ass and rams upward. Again. Again. Each thrust is a brutal punch of pleasure. The car rocks like we're in rough surf. "Fuck, baby," he groans. "You're gonna make me lose it." His head falls back, throat working, veins standing out on his forearms as he holds me down on him.
"Do it," I whisper, licking the column of his throat. "Give it to me." My words dissolve into panting moans. "Mmm. Ahh. Gabe."
His whole body tenses, muscles locking. "Gonna fill you up," he snarls, voice breaking.
"Take it. Take all my cum." He slams up once more, burying himself to the hilt.
The moment he spills, he curses loudly, a rough "Fuck!
" that reverberates through me. I feel the heat flood inside, thick spurts painting my walls.
The sensation drags another quiver out of my spent body.
I clench around him, milking every drop.
His hips jerk, pumping through it, riding his own release while mine keeps buzzing beneath my skin.
"Ooh," I moan, clinging to him, nails scratching the back of his neck.
The windows are completely fogged now. Sweat drips down my spine.
He slumps back against the seat, keeping me impaled on him, still breathing hard.
His palm traces the curve of my back, slow and possessive, yet his cock stays deep, still pulsing.
Each tiny movement keeps my nerves on edge, keeps that ache alive.
I'm panting, flushed, body humming. My thighs quiver around his hips. He kisses my shoulder, then the corner of my mouth, tender in a way that makes my heart twist. The air inside the car feels thick enough to drink. For a second we just breathe together, bodies locked.
The need doesn't let go though. Even with him softening inside me, I feel another flicker of hunger. He must sense it because he drags his thumb over my lower lip, smirking, eyes heavy-lidded but still sharp.
"We're not done," he murmurs. "Not even close."