A sudden compulsion to taste those cries swamped him. He lowered her until their mouths were level. She sank her fingers into his hair and kissed him like his tongue was her favorite treat. He went back to squeezing her ass, lifting and lowering her hips, but this time the feel of skin against skin, hard nipples scraping his chest, nearly undid him.
“Michael, I need you inside me.”
He eased a finger into her and closed his eyes as her body clenched around him.
“Oh God, oh God.” She shivered uncontrollably. “You know what I meant. Please.”
“I’m about to please you.” He glided his thumb along the point where he possessed her. Yes, he was torturing them both, but he had promised some punishment.
“I want to come…with you.”
“You want my cock inside you?” He raised his hips and ground against her a little.
“Yes.”
Hearing her say so brought him close to the edge, but he buckled down on his lust. “You have to earn it. Come for me first, like this.”
She twisted her fist into his shirt and made a tormented sound as he nudged his finger deeper. That seemed to give her something to ground herself to—a focus—and she pumped her hips in a quick, steady rhythm. He bent his thumb so she could use the knuckle as a backstop, but otherwise let her do what she needed to do. Their mouths slid together and apart, together and apart, as she rode toward glory. Her body shook. Her skin glistened in the moonlight. She bucked and strained and struggled for release, but after several long moments, she lowered her head to his shoulder and rested against him, breathing as if she’d just sprinted uphill. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I can’t—”
Oh, no, she definitely could. “Liar,” he teased, and slipped another finger inside her hot, tight channel.
“Oh…oh sweet…”
He thumbed her clit.
“Heavvvvven!” She came—long and hard and with total, unrestrained, abandon. And he loved every fucking second of it.
Before she finished shuddering, he scooted her back a few inches, managed to get his fly down without injuring himself, and get the condom out of his pants pocket and onto his dick without mishap. When everything was ready for her, he pulled her closer and looked into her stormy gray eyes. “Now you’ve earned my cock.”
Her eyes widened. She dug her knees into the seat on either side of his hips and positioned herself over him.
“Are you ready?” He hoped to God she said yes, because he was light-headed at the thought of finally being inside her.
She rested her damp forehead against his and stared back at him with such a naked expression his heart melted. “I’ve been ready for days.”
He covered her lips with his and absorbed her cry when he plunged into her.
Things got kind of frenzied after that. Her first orgasm had left her soft and giving, but still so incredibly tight. They fit together perfectly, as if she’d been made for him. He wanted to go slow, to make sure he brought her back to the brink before he unleashed himself completely, but the sight of her bathed in moonlight, and the intensity of her body clutching him, overrode his good intentions. He dug his fingers into her hips, lifting her, rocking her, stirring her for all he was worth, grunting when she arched her neck, curled her fingernails into his shoulders, and matched him thrust for thrust. And still, it wasn’t enough.
The next thing he knew, she reached down between the seat and the door, found the lever that controlled his seat, and sent him reclining…all the way back. He slid his hands behind her knees and pulled her even closer, sank into her even deeper. “Like that,” he gasped, let her inch up, and then brought her down on him again, appreciating the extra depth provided by the new angle. “Just like that.”
Her feet slid into the gap between the seat and driver’s side door, on one side, and the center console on the other. “My heels—let me take them off. They’re going to tear the leather—”
His lungs were on fire. His balls were slowly being sawed off by his zipper. None of it mattered. “I don’t care. Rip the seat to shreds, just don’t stop.”
God bless her, she dug those high heels in and increased the pace.
Their bodies slapped together. “Jesus,” he heard someone swear from a long way off. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, in time with every slap of flesh against sweaty flesh. Then she tensed up, grabbed a handful of his hair in an iron grip, and stared down at him, into him, as if he was the only person in her universe.
“Michael,” she sobbed. A tear rolled to the end of her lashes, trembled there for a second, and then broke free, leaving a wet trail down her cheek.
His heart stopped cold, paralyzed by the sudden fear he’d hurt her, but she hugged him to her and murmured, “So good. You make me feel so good. After all this time, I’m glad it’s you.”
And then he knew. He was her first since the divorce. A mix of emotions swirled in his chest, but all he could say was, “Chloe,” through a throat as scratchy as sandpaper. And then he lost himself, driving into her blindly and holding her tight while the world spun away, and his body came home, and a voice somewhere inside him wondered how he’d ever let go.
Chapter Thirteen
“Yeah, baby. That’s right. Straight down the line. Stay on it…stay on it…fuck me, did you see that?”