“Now.”
He didn’t argue, just reached out to push her long skirt higher so it sat in a swathe about her waist, exposing as much as possible in the gloomy light.
“I fucking love these boots.” He ran his hands over them, then slipped onto her skin. “And I love seeing your bare thighs. Spread them wider, let me feel all the way up.”
Her boots laced up to her knees. She liked them too. Liked how he firmly gripped her ankles and then palmed up the leather until he hit skin. She liked it even more when he went higher.
“Riding boots.” He lifted his chin and nipped her lip with his teeth in a tiny, sharp bite. “You want to ride me for real?”
Bareback? Nothing more between them? “I want you to slam into me so deep,” she muttered huskily, finally answering the question he’d asked earlier and letting her innermost fantasy out. For the first time in her life free enough to. “I want to feel your balls smacking against me. I want you to fuck me until your cock’s rubbed raw.”
She wanted him worn out and aching and unable to move.
He groaned. “That hard?”
“Harder.” She writhed on him, showing him what she meant. It took only a few fast movements to get her beyond words again. She was so far gone on rocking on him again. He felt so freaking fantastic. So big. She loved how wide he spread her. How powerful he felt beneath her. He grabbed a hank of her hair and twisted it, so she let her head fall back for him to fuck her mouth with his some more while she kept up her riding practice.
“Condom?” she panted in the one second he let her snatch a breath.
“You’re sure?”
Of course she was freaking sure. “Do. You. Have. A. Condom?”
Damn, she ought to be all twenty-first century woman and carry her own, but this was so beyond the unexpected. She’d been celibate for longer than she cared to remember. She didn’t want to remember anything at this moment.
“There’s a pack in the First Aid kit.” He twisted to the side, sliding a hand under the seat and pulling out a neat black pack with ‘First Aid’ emblazoned across the center in a white so bright she was able to read it even in this dim light. And with the ‘Summerhill’ logo in the bottom right corner.
She laughed. Of course there was a condom in it. Because lifties no doubt screwed all the pretty ski tourists in any spot they could.
“You work for Summerhill?” she asked as he hurriedly opened the zipper of the bag.
“That is the resort we’re at.” He chuckled, then swore crudely as half the contents of the kit spilled onto the car floor.
“Do you know them?” Savannah asked vaguely as she spread her fingers over the assorted items, hunting for any square foil packets.
“Who?”
“The Hughes family. Rex and Connor…” Ah. She’d found one. She tore into the packet with her teeth and had the condom in her fingers before she realized that he hadn’t answered. That he’d totally stiffened.
She laughed and leaned into him, kissing him as she finally got to work his zipper all the way down.
He groaned as she freed his rigid erection. She drew breath. No wonder it had felt so good to rock on him, he was huge. She wrapped her fingers around the broad, blunt tip of him, tapped down the length, tracing the thick vein on the underside.
“Sugar. I… need to…”
She laughed at his choked tone and lifted his face to kiss him again. “You don’t want me to put it on?”
“Sugar…” he sounded desperate.
Power rivered through her. He was that hot for her? As desperate as she? “Shut up and kiss me.”
The guy could kiss so damn good. He groaned and offered her his mouth. And she took it. Gloried in the way he worked it. She writhed on him again. So close. So, so close.
His hand suddenly tightened on her arm. “Give me a sec… You’re sure?”
“I want you now.” She sat back a fraction and rolled the condom down his straining cock with a deftness she had no idea she had. Must have been the desperation.
Kneeling up slightly she pulled aside her drenched panties. There was no time to get fully naked. No need. He was exactly what she wanted, where she wanted.
“Sugar—”
She slid down on him and whatever he’d been about to say was lost in his guttural groan. In her high-pitched squeal. She bit her lip, cutting off her own sound.
“Sugarlips,” he breathed harshly, lifting a hand to pull her lower lip free. “Don’t hold it back. Hold nothing back.”
“Then kiss me.” She sank onto him for a moment. Sank into his kiss.
And then, slowly, she returned to her rhythm, feeling him deep inside her. Thick and long and hard and so fantastic it was a wonder her eyes didn’t roll back in her head.
No more words. Only sighs, then ragged, rapid breathing as she worked to ride him harder and faster. In seconds it became the wildest physical connection. A literal coming together. She threw her head back, utterly abandoned as she sought her release. Holding nothing back. Unafraid to writhe, rotating on him, violently sliding up and down his hot, stiff cock.
His skillful fingers sought out her clit, rubbing enough to send her crazy. She was so full, so on the edge. She ground down on him. So hot. So deliciously hot. Sensation streamed—pleasure she hadn’t felt in so long. In ever.
“Like that?”
Like he didn’t already know the freaking answer. “More,” she moaned. “So good.”
“Yeah.” He sounded so damn sexily stunned. Like she was.
She went rigid, her muscles screaming. Too good. Too intense. The orgasm tore through her. Her mouth parted, a scream that first sounded so raw and harsh in the small space… and then went silent as her vocal cords twisted up and shook like every other muscle in her body.
The. Absolute. Best.
Sweat tracked down her face. She panted from riding him so hard. Her legs burned from the strain. But she wanted so much more. No matter that she was sore. That she was tired. She still wanted more. That orgasm had wiped her, but oh man, did she want more.
“Sorry, Sugar, I can’t hold back anymore…”
He’d been holding back?
“Don’t,” she begged feeling both anticipation and amazement. “Take what you want. Take me.”
She needed him to finish it for both of them.
He groaned, lifting his face to kiss her so hard.
Sweat slicked between them, dripped from her face to his. The tinted windows had long since steamed completely. Uncaring that the car wa
s rocking on its wheels.
He switched his hold on her to grip her shoulders, trying to keep her rammed onto him to the hilt while bucking his hips upwards, working to fuck her harder, harder, deeper. A furious fight to the finish, desperate to maximise the sensations, reach that ultimate pleasure. He groaned between gritted teeth with each forceful thrust up. Faster and faster, until his voice reverberated in her ears in a continuous harsh sound of a fierce man pushed to his limits. She braced herself with one hand on his chest. She could feel the racing beat of his heart and the vibrations of his pained, desperate groans.
She curled her fingers into a fist as she fell into that hot mix of pleasure all over again. And she squeezed down on him as tightly as she could.
“Fuck. Yes.” He shouted. His hands grasped her hard and he arched up into her for an endless moment of ecstasy.
Her body mirrored his, slipping so easily again into that intense storm, clenching instinctively on him again and then again—like it would never let him go.
Until no muscle in her body would work anymore and she collapsed onto him.
Long moments later she was struggling to catch her breath. She kept her eyes tightly closed, pressing her face hard into his broad shoulder as she tried to return to normal. Beneath her, his chest rapidly rose and fell as he too recovered.
He said nothing. Nor did she. She couldn’t—was still trying to process what they’d just shared. It had been so rough, yet so gentle. All those kisses?
All her animal instincts had been met in that utterly physical half hour, but as reality returned, doubts needled their way in.
She’d been so unrestrained. So uncontrolled. So loud. She’d not given a damn. He’d offered and she’d taken what she wanted. Embraced it all and loved every second of it. Only now she felt vulnerability rise. She’d exposed herself in a way she never had before. Instinct screamed at her to build a defense. She drew a steadying breath and sat up, tried to look into his shadow-hidden eyes. “Tell a soul and I’ll—”
Oh hell, her voice was croaky.
“What? Break my balls? You just did.” He laughed. His voice too held a roughened edge. “Simmer down Sugar, I already told you no one will know. I don’t kiss and tell.” His hands stroked down her back, not skin to skin but over her shirt. Aiming to soothe rather than stir. “Relax.”