“Fuck, Erin,” he hisses, grinding his hips into me.
I lick my lips, eyes on his growing length as the light turns green and I squeeze him a little harder, rolling my palm over the slick fabric of his shorts. When we hit the next light, I tug on the string tying his shorts at the top, freeing the knot.
“Can you take these down a bit?”
Bear’s head snaps in my direction, and he gapes for just a millisecond before he presses his foot into the brake and lifts his hips enough to slide his shorts and briefs down to mid-thigh, freeing his cock.
I moan at the sight, biting my lip again before I lean even farther over the console. Clinton adjusts, holding the steering wheel high with one hand so I have enough room to peek my head in, and his other hand is holding his pants out of the way.
Careful not to hit his arm, I run my fist over him — one pump, two — and then I cover his large tip with my lips, spreading them wide until at last my tongue tastes him, swirling and sucking and teasing.
He groans loud, but keeps his eyes on the road, his focus steady as I take him a little farther inside each time. I feel wild and free, sexual in a way I haven’t in a long time — if ever. He makes me feel this way… comfortable, confident, desired.
Safe.
It’s hard for me to take Bear all the way in my mouth even with the best positioning, so being at this awkward angle with his pants in the way, it’s impossible. But I slick my tongue along the walls of his shaft, curling it over his tip and moving in time with my hands as best I can. I know I won’t get him off this way, but I also know I’ve got him so hard, his balls so tight that he’s ready to burst.
When we pull into the small driveway of his house, he slams the truck into park and instantly reaches over to unbuckle my seatbelt. In the next breath, he’s pulling me on top of him, flipping the center console up and out of the way so my knees have more room to steady myself. I straddle him as he crashes his mouth to mine, hand at the back of my head and crushing me to him like that kiss is his lifeline.
“You are everything I’ve ever wanted,” he breathes against my lips before bruising them with another kiss. “Everything I need.”
I kiss back in earnest as my answer, frustrated that he’s exposed but my shorts are between us. “Take me inside.”
Blindly, he reaches for the handle and shoves the door open, holding me to him as he stumbles out of the truck. He doesn’t even bother to pull his pants up, doesn’t give a shit if anyone in the neighborhood is watching. He just holds tight, my legs wrapped around his waist, and shuffles up the few stairs to his porch, fumbling with his key in the door, and then we tumble inside.
My back slams against the wood the second the door closes, and Bear pins me there, kissing my neck, my collarbone before frantically tearing my shirt off and sucking the swells of my breasts where they heave above the shell of my white bra.
A growl seeps from his throat, and then he drops me to my feet long enough to yank my shorts down to my ankles. He reaches for my panties next, but they’re just a thin scrap of a thong, and without meaning to, he shreds the threading, quite literally ripping them off me.
“Shit,” he says, looking at the lace in his hands, his chest rising and falling in erratic huffs.
“Whatever, I have more,” I say quickly, and I grab the lace from his hands and throw it across the room before leaping back into his arms.
Our lips fuse together, and we’re on the move again, though I can’t see where. Suddenly, my ass is placed on top of the cool countertop, and Bear tugs me forward until I’m hanging off the edge and leaning back on my hands to steady myself.
He doesn’t even take the time to remove my bra, just tugs the cups down until my breasts pop out, and he devours both, sucking the nipples and swirling his expert tongue hard and fast. I let my head drop back, legs already quivering at the need to have him inside me.
Suddenly, he stills.
His forehead drops to my chest, and he shakes his head, meeting my gaze with an apologetic look in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says, swallowing a gulp of air. “I… I want you so bad I…” He shakes his head. “I’ll slow down, I’m sorry.”
“No,” I whine, and I press up until I’m kissing him just as hard and desperate as before. “Don’t slow down, Clinton. Don’t stop.”