Chapter 9 - Claire
I've never felt anything like this in my entire life.
His cock stretches me so completely that I can feel every thick inch of him. Can feel the pulse of him inside me. Can feel my body trying to adjust to the intrusion even as it clenches around him like it never wants to let go.
I'm so wet I can feel it dripping down my thighs. Soaking him. Making obscene sounds as I start to move. Slowly at first. Rising up until just the tip of him is inside me, then sinking back down.
"Fuck," Nash groans, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. "Just like that. Take what you need."
What I need is more.
I establish a rhythm, rising and falling, and oh god, the angle. With every downward stroke he hits something deep inside that makes me shout his name.
"Nash, oh god!"
"I know, baby. I know."
His voice is wrecked and knowing I'm doing that to him makes me bold.
I start moving faster. Bouncing on his cock like it's the only thing keeping me alive. My breasts bounce with each movement and his eyes are glued to them, watching them jiggle.
The rain outside is still pounding on the roof, creating a rhythm that matches the slap of my thighs against his. The windows are fogging up from our breath, from the heat building between us, until we're in our own private world.
It's perfect. It's better than perfect. It's everything I've ever fantasized about and so much more because it's real and he's real and he's inside me and—
I close my eyes and tilt my head back, just feeling.
Feeling the thick slide of him in and out. Feeling the stretch. Feeling the way my body opens for him, welcomes him, takes him deeper with every thrust. Feeling the rain drumming outside. Feeling his hands on me, holding me, guiding me.
"Look at you," Nash says, his voice rough with awe. "Fucking yourself on my cock. So goddamn beautiful."
I moan at his words, moving faster, chasing something I can feel building low in my belly. Then his hands tighten on my hips and he plants his feet. And starts thrusting up into me. I cry out, my eyes flying open, my hands scrambling for purchase on his shoulders.
"Nash, oh fuck, oh my god—"
He's not gentle anymore. Not slow or careful. He's thrusting up into me hard and fast, one hand on my hip and the other sliding up my back to pull me down against his chest.
"Take it," he growls in my ear. "Take every fucking inch."
I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't do anything but hold on while he ruins me.
This is what he meant. This is what he was warning me about. He's absolutely destroying me and I never want it to stop. His cock is hitting every spot inside me with every brutal thrust and I'm making sounds I've never made before. High and desperate and needy.
"That's it," he grunts. "Let me hear you. Let me hear what I do to you."
"I can't… It's too much—"
"You can take it. You're doing so good, baby. Taking my cock so fucking well."
The praise mixed with the filth makes something inside me snap. I've never been fucked like this. Never even close. The few guys I've been with were gentle. Like they were afraid I'd break. Nash is fucking me like he owns me. Like he's claiming every inch of me for himself.
And god help me, I want to be owned.
I wrap my arms around his neck and press my mouth to his ear. "I want—" I gasp as he thrusts particularly deep. "I want you to fuck me from behind."
He freezes mid-thrust.
"What?"
"Doggy style," I breathe. "It's my favorite. I want… Please, Nash, I want to feel you that way.”
His cock twitches inside me and his grip on me tightens.
"You sure?" His voice is strained. "I don't know if we can manage it in this car."
"Please. Please, can we try?"
He pulls back enough to look at me, and the expression on his face is otherworldly. He's smirking.
"With pleasure," he says.
The words send a shiver down my spine.
He slows his thrusts and I reluctantly climb off his lap, already missing the feeling of him inside me. The car is cramped and awkward, but I don't care.
I scramble into the back seat, getting on my knees on the worn upholstery, ass up, face pressed against the seat. I can hear him moving behind me. The creak of the car as he maneuvers his large frame into the back seat with me.
I can't see what he's doing but then I feel it: his hand on my thigh, spreading me wider. And then his cock, thick and hard, rubbing against my entrance. Not pushing in. Just teasing. Sliding through my wetness. Making me whimper.
"Nash, please—"
"Please what?"
"Fuck me. Please fuck me."
"How bad do you want it?"
"So bad. Please, I need—"
He slams into me in one brutal thrust and I scream. The new angle is devastating. He's even deeper like this, hitting places I didn't know existed, and he doesn't give me time to adjust.
He just starts fucking me.
Fast and hard and relentless.
His hands grip my hips, pulling me back to meet each thrust, and the sounds filling the car are obscene. The slap of skin on skin. My moans. His grunts.
The silent man who barely spoke to me for three months is gone. In his place is someone wild. Someone lost to pleasure. Someone who's as desperate for this as I am.
"More," I gasp. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."
"Fuck, Claire—"
His hand comes down on my ass, a sharp slap that makes me yelp. Then the other cheek. The sting blooms into heat and I clench around him.
"Again," I beg.
He slaps my ass again and I nearly come right there.
I feel alive. More alive than I've ever felt. My body is singing, every nerve ending on fire, and I'm so glad no cars have passed by because I'm being so loud and I don't care.
"You feel so good," Nash grunts, his pace becoming erratic. "So fucking tight. I'm not going to last."
"Don't stop," I plead.
"Claire, I have to… I'm going to come—"
Something in my brain short-circuits. Some primal, insane part of me takes over.
"Inside," I gasp. "Come inside me."
He makes a choking sound. "Claire—"
"Please. I want to feel it. Want you to fill me up. Mark me. Make me yours."
I hear him gulp. Hear the harsh intake of his breath. And then he doesn't ask if I'm sure. He just fucks me. Harder than before. Faster. So hard the car is rocking and our bodies are making sounds louder than the rain outside.
One hand grips my hip hard enough to bruise. The other slides around to find my clit and I detonate. The orgasm hits me like a freight train. My whole body seizes, clenching around him, and I'm screaming his name and I can't stop.
And then I feel it. The first pulse of him coming. The heat flooding inside me. But he doesn't stop. He keeps thrusting, keeps coming, and I feel a second pulse. Then a third.
Three massive loads pumping into me and it triggers another orgasm before the first one has even finished.
I can't see. Can't hear anything except the roaring in my ears.
Saliva is trickling from the corner of my mouth onto the seat. My eyes roll back. My whole body is twitching and shaking and I think I might actually pass out.
"That's it," Nash is saying, his voice hoarse. "Take it all. Every fucking drop."
I couldn't move if I wanted to. My body has turned to liquid, completely boneless, held up only by his hands and his cock still buried deep inside me.
Finally, finally, he stills.
We're both gasping for breath, trembling, and I can feel him slowly softening inside me. Can feel his cum starting to leak out around his cock, dripping down my thighs.
I should be embarrassed.
I'm not.
I feel claimed. Owned. His.
Nash pulls out slowly and I whimper at the loss. More of his release spills out and I feel it running down my legs.
"Fuck," he breathes. "Claire, look at you."
I can't look at anything. Can barely lift my head. Strong hands turn me over gently, and then he's pulling me into his lap, cradling me against his chest.
All our clothes are scattered somewhere in the car. I'm covered in sweat and cum and I've never felt more satisfied in my life.
"You okay?" he asks quietly, his hand stroking my hair.
I laugh. It comes out breathless and slightly hysterical. "I think you broke me."
"Good broken or bad broken?"
"The best broken."
He presses a kiss to my forehead. "I told you I'd ruin you for anyone else."
"You weren't kidding." I nestle closer to him. "I don't think I can feel my legs."
"That's normal."
"Is it?"
"After getting fucked like that? Yeah."
Heat floods my face at his words, at the casual way he says them.
We sit there in silence for a while, just breathing, while our heartbeats slowly return to normal. The rain has lessened to a gentle patter now. The windows are completely fogged. We're in our own little bubble.
"I can't believe we just did that," I murmur against his chest.
"Regret it?"
"God no. That was—" I don't have words. "That was the best sex of my life."
His arms tighten around me. "Mine too."
"Liar. You've probably had way better sex than—"
"Claire." He tilts my chin up so I'm looking at him. "That was the best sex of my life. Nothing even comes close."
The sincerity in his eyes makes my throat tight.
"We're a mess," I say instead of dealing with the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
"Yeah."
"We smell like sex."
"Yeah."
"Your cum is literally dripping out of me."
"Good."
I laugh again and he smiles, a real smile, not just a smirk.
"I like your smile," I tell him.
"Don't smile much."
"You should. You're even more handsome when you smile."
"Even with all the scars?"
"Especially with the scars." I trace the one on his jaw. "Every single one just makes you hotter."
"You're insane."
"Maybe." I kiss him softly. "But I'm your insane now."
"Yeah," he says quietly. "You are."
We eventually find our clothes, or most of them. My underwear is somewhere under the front seat and I can't be bothered to look for them.