In all my twenty-two years on this earth I don’t think I’ve ever felt this horny before. I have to squeeze my hands into little fists, nails digging into my palms to keep myself
from unbuckling my seatbelt and throwing myself at him.
In all my twenty-two years I’ve never wanted someone so bad.
I cast a quick glance over, watching the lights of the night flash across his skin. He’s so fucking beautiful, so fucking perfect.
If I were given the tools, I couldn’t have created a more amazing man. He’s big and strong, the very definition of burly. I know those big paws of his are gentle with me but they’re more than capable of causing some serious destruction. Rippling beneath his surface is a beast trapped inside his skin, a beast that wants mayhem.
And I want his mayhem.
I make a small, mewling sound as I remember the last time, when I pushed him to let go and he shed his control, fucking me like he wasn’t afraid to break me.
“Grace…” he groans, glancing over at me. In his eyes I see my own agony reflected back at me. His hand starts to cross the space between us and I shake my head.
“Don’t,” I plead, scooting away to escape his hand.
If he touches me I’ll break, and I want it to be his cock not his hand that causes my destruction.
“Fuck,” he curses, hand returning to the steering wheel. He squeezes it so tightly I wouldn’t be surprised if he crushed it in his grip.
“I want you so fucking bad, Max,” I groan and squirm against my seat, trying to ease some of the pressure. “I can’t stand it.”
He growls so viciously all the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”
“Promise?”
“Fuck yeah, I promise,” he says, his voice thick and gritty with his passion. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never want another man.”
I shake my head and have the strongest urge to reach up and grab my own breasts. I know, logically, that the bowling alley isn’t that far from his place but this feels like the car ride that will never end.
“You doubt me?” he asks, hitting the gas.
“No, of course not,” I gasp. The throbbing between my thighs is so strong, so distracting I struggle to focus on his question.
“Then why did you shake your head?”
We take a curve around the lake and then the car slows, coming to a stop in front of his garage. My hand is shaking so hard as I try to unbuckle my seatbelt that he has to reach over and help me undo it after unbuckling his.
Pulling me onto his lap, I groan and shudder. So sensitive, I nearly come when my thighs spread, the throbbing increasing. His rock hard bulge brushes against the seam of my jeans, teasing my clit.
Reaching behind me, his fingers slide through my hair, and his hand cups the back of my head.
“Why did you shake your head, Grace?” he asks, staring hard down at me and I can’t stop my shiver. He looks a little… pissed. “You don’t think I’m going to fuck you until you forget all other men?”
I want to shake my head again but can’t with him holding me like he is. So I lick my lips nervously and my blood ignites with heat as his eyes watch my tongue, following its progress.
“Grace,” he growls impatiently.
Somehow I finally find the courage to answer his question, “No. You can’t.”
“What?” he snaps, his face reddening.
“You can’t,” I repeat and rock my hips, shamelessly grinding myself against him just to ease some of the pressure.
“I think I can,” he groans, fingers tightening in my hair as his other hand slips under my shirt and slides up until it reaches my breast.
“You can’t,” I gasp and still in anticipation.