Colin #3
I lifted my head when I felt the truck come to a jerking halt and then yelped in surprise when he slammed his hand against the shifter and I was pushed away from him.
I looked at him in surprise, belatedly realizing we were parked on the side of the road as he rummaged through the bags in the back of the truck.
I understood exactly what was happening when he grunted; I heard plastic, and then he was out of the truck in a flash.
I spun around to open the passenger door, but then Xander was there, grabbing me and pulling me out.
It was almost scary how focused he was, how much force he used as he spun me around and pushed me against the side of the truck.
Except, just like the risk of sleeping with my boss, giving him road head, the trickle of danger from him was enough of a hint that it made everything so much better.
“Asshole,” he muttered in my ear as I helped things along and opened my pants, his hands rough as he shoved them and my underwear down to my thighs. “Spread your legs, ass out. You had to push it, didn’t you? Always pushing, pushing, pushing.”
He sounded pissed, but I wasn’t fooled; I’d heard him talk too many times when he was turned on to be convinced.
That was what he sounded like when he was ready to rip my clothes off if I wasn’t quick enough.
Which, while insanely hot, would take some effort to explain why I looked like I’d been mauled by a bear when we got back to the outpost.
His cock pressed against me, and I took a deep breath.
It was going to sting. His hand was between my shoulder blades, pinning me against the truck, and he gave his hips a jerk, pushing into me.
The broad head opened me up, and I grunted as a burn originated from where he pushed into me and spread.
Just like the risk of danger, though, the burn added to the thrill.
Which was a good thing because the feel of him inching inside, controlled yet insistent, was intense enough to keep my attention locked on the sensation. I let out a breath when I felt the last inch of him nudge inside and let my forehead rest against the truck.
“Still feeling proud of yourself?” he asked, his breath hot on the back of my neck. “Because I’m having a great time, can you say the same?”
“Give me a moment,” I told him with a laugh, and even then, I could feel the ache inside me slowing to a dull roar.
“You sure?” he asked. I could hear the doubt trickling in, and I knew that despite how he was acting, part of him knew it was toeing the line between what was probably a good idea and what wasn’t.
“Oh, you’re not going to be fucking me for a few days after this,” I said, shifting my stance and moving him inside me to test the feeling. “I’m barely going to sit for the next twelve hours, but yeah, I’m sure.”
“Just…tell me,” he said, letting me shift my hips back and forth, getting used to the feeling. “Fuck, careful.”
“What? Weren’t ready for how it would feel going that deep, that fast?” I asked, feeling the ache slowly become nothing. “If you blow early, that’s on you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Would you?”
He took that for the sign it was and pressed me against the truck again, pulling his hips back and sinking into me in one smooth, deep motion.
It was a damn good thing I had grown used to being fucked so frequently lately.
Not that my body molded to a fucking thing, but it was a lot more used to relaxing when I was getting fucked than before I came to work at the outpost.
Xander sensed something was different, and his thrusts grew faster.
I was practically bent over as he fucked into me harder and harder, making the truck shake with each thrust. I was on my tiptoes as he shoved his dick into me, stars exploding in my vision as he pummeled my insides with what probably looked like reckless abandon.
Except I could feel it was anything but reckless or thoughtless, he had learned a while ago where he needed to fuck to make me cry out, to make me leak like crazy, and to send me rocketing toward an orgasm.
Which was what he was doing, beating my insides into submission with his club of a cock.
I was completely helpless as his fingers dug painfully into my hips, the press of his hand against my back so firm that it was hard to breathe.
It was his dick, though, that kept me in submission.
I was only standing because his thrusts pinned me against the truck as he fucked me with increasingly erratic thrusts.
“Fuck,” I managed weakly because I could tell from his breathing, from the way he was fucking, that he was close, that he was about to shoot another load into me like he had last night, and the night before, and the night before that.
I knew that kind of intensity couldn’t last forever, but goddamn, if him fucking me every night left me so weak and shaking, I was going to bend over happily every time he wanted me to.
His teeth scraped my neck as he smashed his face against me, growling as his hips twitched.
My insides somehow grew warmer and slicker, his thrusts more like jerks of his hips.
For a man who had a self-proclaimed breeding phobia, he loved making sure his cum was as deep in me as possible since we had ditched the condoms. I wasn’t going to complain; I didn’t have that phobia, and there was a not so private part of me that loved walking around with his ‘mark’ inside me.
“C’mon,” he growled. He was done, but apparently he wasn’t done with me as he wrapped his hand around my cock and started jerking me off.
That would have been enough after everything, but then he continued to give small, shallow thrusts up into me that took the last of my strength.
Crying out, my forehead thumped into the side of the truck and I let out a gasp as my orgasm painted the side.