“That what you needed?” he paused their kiss to ask her.
“Yes,” she choked out.
“From…me.” He huffed a sound of disbelief. “Can’t believe…you needed this from me.”
The promise of pleasure and relief from the ache was whipping inside of her and she could only nod, could only curl her fingers in the front of his shirt and let the waves build taller. A golden glow replaced the usual blackness behind her eyes. Beautiful, so beautiful, she lost what little breath remained in her lungs. And all she could think was more, more, more.
Did she say that out loud?
She must have because Tucker moaned into their kiss and yanked her underwear down, letting the cotton shield fall to her knees, returning his quartet of thick fingers to the juncture of her thighs, slipping them through her folds and finding the bud at the top and rubbing it with his knuckle until she screamed and batted his shoulders, an unintelligible plea for mercy.
“Mary, I…” he started hoarsely. “God, honey. You got this wet listening to me fight?”
“For me. Fight for me.”
He sawed his drenched middle and ring fingers over her clit, leaving to collect dampness from her entrance, before returning back to rub, rub, relentless in driving her higher, to some precipice she’d never been before. “I’d fight the world if you asked me to.” Those words were like gasoline on a fire she didn’t understand. Only knew that it wouldn’t go out unless he kept touching. Faster, faster. “Your enemies are mine, Mary.”
Oh lord.
A treasure chest had been pried open inside of her, revealing something buried. Latent. Primitive and raw. Back at the diner, he’d been like a lion battling for his lioness and…maybe, maybe it was the sense of belonging that gave Mary that made her so eager for more of his attention. This kind of attention. Somehow she knew it wouldn’t be like this with just any male.
It was Tucker.
“I could put a finger inside you, honey,” He pushed his mouth up against her ear. “I could push it in thick and bring it out wet. You want that?”
“Yes.”
Even though he’d asked for permission with confidence, a sense of amazement, gratitude, skipped through his signature. There was wonder written in his open mouth, the crunch of metal above her head, the finger that pressed deep inside her femininity and explored with a gentle thrust. It was exactly what she’d been craving, though she didn’t know it until now. The pressure, the solid presence of his fingers, the push and pull motion. She thought of Tucker’s weight pressing her down and a very different part of him filling her. Thought of that and his aggression during the fight, how he’d fall somewhere between that and his sweet self if they made love, naked, skin sliding and slapping together—
The heel of Tucker’s hand pressed to her clit, pushing until that sinful hand was trapping her lower body against the car in the most sensual torture. “I’m your full service man, Mary. I’ll drive you, protect you, serve your body. I’ll do it as long as I’m allowed and be thankful.” And his hand ground lightly, fingers still deep, deep inside her sex and the most glorious sensation cascaded through her. “All I want in return is to watch you come.”
“Tucker.”
Mary’s back arched off the car, a scream caught in her throat, her skin molten and no doubt glowing. Pleasure pulsed between her legs so intensely, it was painful and perfect at the same time. That burn behind her eyes lifted the darkness to light and each of her muscles contracted, holding, holding so unbearably tight, before releasing. Tucker continued to apply that twisting pressure with the heel of his hand until she went limp, forcing him to catch her before she slipped down and hit the ground.
Somehow, she found the strength to reach up and wrap her arms around his neck. He dropped his chin down on the crown of her head, swaying them side to side. Not all was right, though. She’d been released from her lust, but Tucker…he hadn’t, right? And she could feel the thick protrusion of his shaft between them, trapped between his hips and her stomach. Unable to bear his lack of relief another second, Mary dropped her right hand from around his neck, bringing it between Tucker’s thighs, tracing the outline of him through his pants, exhaling with delight when it seemed to swell into her palm.
“Mary, no,” he said raggedly, capturing her wrist. “I don’t need you to return the favor.”
“I want to. Very much.”
His groaned above her head, his hips seeming to cinch closer involuntarily.
Mary leaned in and traced his chains with her mouth, her tongue, then over to his skin, lapping at and savoring the cool texture of him.
“I would give anything to feel your hand on my cock, honey, but it’s complicated.”