Chapter 36 Under My Protection #3
She tilted her head, smiling. “You? Willingly leaving your man-cave? Should I be worried?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I know. The bastard with no future is out here building one. Shocking, huh?”
“God, you drive me crazy, I can’t even look at you right now without wanting you,” she laughed softly, palm pressing against my thigh, inching closer to dangerous territory.
I raised an eyebrow at her touch, watching her hand move with growing amusement—and distraction. “Kira...”
“You’re too good to me,” she said, lowering her voice. “And I’m about to be very, very good to you.”
“I like how that sounds,” I muttered.
She unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Hey,” I barked, half-glancing down. “Not now.”
She smirked, already tugging at my belt. “Too late. I’m committed.”
“Kira,” I groaned, eyes flicking from the road to her. “You’re pregnant. You’re not even wearing your damn seatbelt. What if we crash?”
“Then I die doing what I love,” she said with a grin, unzipping my pants.
“That’s… really not helping my focus,” I said, already feeling it slip.
“Don’t be dramatic,” she purred. “You’re not that easy to distract.”
“Bullshit,” I choked as she leaned in. “I’m already seeing stars.”
She leaned in and took me in her mouth, slow and warm, her tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles that made my breath stutter in my throat.
“Fuck,” I hissed, easing my foot off the gas. The car slowed fast.
“Why are you driving like an old man?” she teased, lips brushing my skin.
“Because there’s a hormonal maniac sucking my soul out through my dick, that’s why,” I gritted out.
She giggled before going back down on me with a moan that vibrated through me like lightning. My hand slid into her hair, gripping tight, trying to keep her steady as I focused on keeping the car straight.
God help me. I was going to die happy—or wreck this car trying.
She moaned again, louder this time, and her pace quickened. Her mouth was wet heat and velvet drag, her tongue working every sensitive inch like she was starved for it. She sucked me deep, then pulled back slowly, dragging her tongue along the underside before swallowing me whole again.
I gripped the wheel harder, knuckles bone-white, as my hips jerked up helplessly. The obscene sounds filled the car—slick, desperate, hungry—and I could feel my control fraying with every breath.
“Jesus,” I rasped. “You’re going to kill me.”
She didn’t stop. If anything, she doubled down—hollowing her cheeks, tongue teasing the tip, eyes gleaming with mischief when she glanced up at me like she knew exactly what she was doing.
The dashboard screen lit up suddenly, the car system cutting in with an incoming call.
I swore under my breath.
The SUV behind us stayed too close in the rearview mirror, its dark shape filling the lane like a shadow glued to my bumper. Of course they were watching.
I tapped the steering wheel control without taking my eyes off the road. “What.”
“Boss,” one of my men said through the speakers, his voice slightly distorted. “Everything good? You slowed down.”
She froze for half a second.
Then she looked up at me—and giggled.
My jaw tightened.
“Stay back,” I said evenly. “And don’t call unless someone’s dying.”
A pause. “Understood.”
The line disconnected.
I kept driving, slower now, one hand firm on the wheel as I finally glanced down at her.
“Where were we?”
Her moans grew more frantic, matching the pace of her mouth as she worked me over. Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking in sync with every pass of her tongue.
Then, in a ragged whisper, she breathed against me, “I’m so fucking wet right now.”
That did it.
I spotted a gravel turnoff up ahead—some kind of lookout or empty service road—and jerked the wheel, swerving us onto it without a word. She didn’t stop.
Jesus Christ, she just kept going.
“Kira,” I growled. “Stop. Now.”
She lifted her head, eyes dark and lips slick. “What?”
I slammed the car into park, pushed my seat all the way back, and pointed. “Jeans and panties. Off. Now.”
A flicker of realization flashed in her eyes—and then she was moving, shoving denim down her thighs.
“Faster,” I snapped, breath ragged. “Climb me. Now.”
It was chaos. She wriggled onto my lap, both of us fumbling, gasping, her fingers braced on my shoulders as she lowered herself onto me.
We both groaned, as I sank into her.
“You realize if a car passes, I’m gonna have to kill someone,” I muttered, gripping her hips. “Because this view is for me and me alone.”
She laughed, breathless, and rolled her hips slowly.
“Then you better keep your gun close,” she said, and before I could react, she was sliding off me.
“Hey—what the fuck are you doing?” I growled.
She climbed over to the passenger side, opened the glovebox, and retrieved my handgun like it was her purse.
“You said you’d shoot someone,” she said sweetly, placing it on the dash between us. “Can’t do that unarmed.”
I stared, part turned on, part exasperated. “You ditched mid-fuck for a gun?”
She smirked, climbing back over and settling onto my lap. “What can I say? I like a man fully loaded.”
“Next time, I’m tying you down.”
“Promises, promises,” she whispered with a wicked grin.
Her mouth fell open with a gasp as she sank back onto me, and I caught her hips, dragging her down hard. She wasted no time—slamming into me with a brutal, hungry rhythm, her moans a broken litany against the fogged windows.
“Fuck,” I hissed through my teeth, as her sweater slid up and I shoved my hands beneath it, squeezing her tits with both hands, rough and greedy. I pinched her nipples between my thumbs, and she whimpered, her walls clenching around me.
She leaned in and bit my neck hard—no warning, no apology—and I snapped, thrusting up into her so hard the car rocked. She let out a choked cry, and I grabbed her ass, holding her steady as I slammed into her again.
“Jesus, Kira,” I groaned, voice shredded. “You’re fucking destroying me.”
She rolled her hips faster, frantic and messy, her pussy clenching greedily around me. Her mouth slammed into mine—wet, messy, tongues colliding hungrily as we kissed like starving animals. I slid my hand to her throat, fingers curling just tight enough to make her gasp and her eyes flutter.
“Does that hurt?” I rasped, lips brushing hers.
She shook her head, breathless. “If it did, I’d still be begging for more.”
I yanked her closer with the hand at her throat and kissed her brutally, tongue invading her mouth, swallowing every desperate moan as she kept riding me like she owned me. She was soaked—slick heat gripping my cock, pulsing, pulling me toward the edge with every frantic roll of her hips.
“Fuck, Kira,” I growled, slamming up into her, breath ragged against her lips. “I’m—”
Her moan cut me off. She was clenching around me, trembling, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I let go, burying myself deep as I spilled inside her, groaning her name against her mouth.
My chest heaved. She sagged against me, forehead to mine, panting.
“You didn’t come,” I murmured, still catching my breath.
She shook her head. “No. But I was close.”
I leaned back slightly, still inside her, my gaze dark. “Lift your hips. Now.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes, but she obeyed, rising just enough for me to slide out of her.
My cum started dripping from her, wetting my lap and her thighs—but I didn’t care. What was a little laundry, compared to making my girl fall apart?
I slid three fingers between her legs and pushed inside.
My fingers didn’t hesitate, thrusting into her with the same ruthless rhythm as before, curling deep as I fucked her with my hand. Her eyes flew wide, body jerking forward as if the pleasure hit like a bolt of lightning, and her hands scrambled over my shoulders for balance.
“Do you like that?” I rasped, curling my fingers deep, thumb grazing her clit.
“Oh my God, yes,” she cried, her voice wrecked. “Fuck, Maksym—don’t stop.”
“I’m not stopping until you soak my fucking hand,” I growled, slamming my fingers into her harder, the heel of my palm grinding her clit with each thrust.
She matched me, grinding down desperately, hips rolling in frantic rhythm. Her mouth fell open, eyes locked on mine, thighs quivering. Her moans turned louder, faster, until her body snapped tight—every muscle locked, pussy clamping around my fingers in hard, pulsing waves.
She came hard, back arching, mouth open in a silent scream before the sound ripped free—raw, broken. Her grip on my shoulders tightened as she rode it out, gasping, sobbing, trembling.
I didn’t stop—not until she was done. Only when she collapsed against my chest, trembling and spent, did I slow my hand and pull back.
She kissed me, breath still shallow, lips hot and wet, and I kissed her back like she was air.
My girl. Mine.