“Fucking hell, Pretty Girl,” he groans, his hands coming up on either side of my face. “You feel so fucking good.” Thrust. “Every.” Thrust. “Damn.” Thrust. “Time.”
He moans, beginning to move in and out of me with a rhythmic undulation of his hips, lowering down onto his forearms, his lips hovering over mine. The deeper angle makes me gasp, my hands grasping his biceps as wave upon wave of sublime pleasure rolls over me. If fucking was an Olympic sport, Loki would win the gold every time.
I'm so wet that there's no resistance as he starts to thrust harder, driving into me, the sounds of our fucking competing with our moans and gasps.
“Loki...Fuck, Loki. I'm going to come,” I rasp as I feel the burn of another orgasm start in my core. Loki moves his head, his lips next to my ear.
“That's it. Come all over my dick, baby,” he growls out, pounding harder, and then biting my neck seconds later, triggering another release. Stars flash across my eyes, my body tightening around him as I self-combust with a husky yell, uncaring at this point if the driver hears us. He follows me into oblivion moments later, groaning out his own climax, buried to the hilt inside me.
He lets my legs down, not letting his cock slip out, placing gentle kisses on my neck, throat, and lips. We lie like that, rumpled and spent, for what feels like hours, but in reality can only be twenty minutes at most, until the car begins to slow down. Loki rolls up and out of me, kneeling and staring down at me, his expression one of pure male satisfaction.
“I must look like a hot fucking mess!” I laugh out, still feeling a little boneless, and not really that worried about my freshly fucked appearance.
“You look fucking hot, Pretty Girl,” he says licking his lips. “I would fuck you again right now if we didn't have places to be.”
Leaning back and opening one of the many compartments the limo has in its interior, he grabs out a warm damp cloth—don’t even ask why they have those in here, ignorance is bliss, my friends—and reaches down between my legs, wiping it along my still sensitive folds. My breath hisses out at the contact, which only makes him chuckle.Bastard.
“We’ve arrived, sir,” a male voice says over the speakers.
“Thanks, Tom,” Loki replies, but there’s a shit eating grin on his face as he holds my glower. It takes me a second to realise that he didn’t move from his position kneeling above me. My eyes widen and he chuckles. “Whoops. Looks like I forgot to turn off the two-way speaker.”
Fucking exhibitionist donkeycock ballbag!
* * *
I’m still grumbling at the wanker as we get out of the car once we’ve straightened our clothes, which just makes him laugh openly at me. Tom, our driver, holds the door open and the blush on his cheeks is nothing compared to mine, which feel like glowing red beacons. He’s handsome for an older guy, his blond hair peppered with grey, as is the scruff covering his jaw, and bright blue eyes. Apparently, he’s been a driver for Black Knight Corporation since the beginning, before even the guys were born.
“Thanks again, Tom.” Loki chuckles like a cockgobbler, but I see him slip some folded bills into Tom’s hand as he shakes it—hopefully not with the fingers that were inside me!
“No problem, sir,” Tom replies in his gravelly voice. “I hope you have a nice trip, sir, miss,” he tells us without looking at me, then closes the car door and heads to the boot to grab our bags.
“You’re a shitstain, you know that?” I tell the naughty redhead next to me, looking up into his mischievous green eyes. He grins in response, no shits given, proving my words correct.
“You’re late,” I hear a smooth, low voice say, my head whipping round towards the sound as my heart flutters in my chest, like a bird trying to escape its cage.
My gaze drinks in the dark angel as he stalks towards us, from his custom-made shiny black shoes to his tailored black suit, complete with waistcoat and tie, with all that glorious ink peeking through at his neck and on the back of his hands. My whole body tingles as I take him in, as if for the first time, then in a sudden decisive moment, I rush towards him, throwing myself into his arms. He catches me, just like I know he always will, and pulls me into a tight embrace, engulfing me in his spicy ginger scent as he lifts me off my feet for a moment.
I breathe him in like he’s my oxygen, sagging into him with weak knees as I wrap them around his waist.
“Hello, Princess,” he says gruffly, and I tilt my face to look up into those swirling grey eyes of his, the hint of a soft smile on his plump lips.
His whole body relaxes around me, and I feel him take a deep inhale, as if it’s the first proper breath he’s taken in weeks.
“Hello, Ash,” I whisper, swallowing, my throat tight with emotion. I’ve missed him, and the others, so fucking much.
I can’t bear to be parted from them again. It feels as though pieces of me have been taken away, and I won’t be whole until I get them back. We are all irrevocably bound, so intrinsic to one another that we can never be truly separated, and any physical distance hurts.
He leans his face down, his lips hovering over mine for an agonising second before he closes the distance, my feet settling back on the tarmac. One of his hands comes up to palm my cheek, tilting my head back further as he deepens his kiss, his tongue demanding entry. Ash tastes like moonless nights, and exquisite sin, like the darkest chocolate that at first is bitter, and only sweetens the longer you hold it on your tongue.
My own hands grip his lapels, uncaring if I crease them all to buggery, just needing him closer. Deeper.
A growl sounds in his throat when I nip his tongue, and he pulls away, sucking my bottom lip before he releases me from his thrall.
“You smell like sex, Lilly Darling,” he tells me gruffly, his words falling over my lips and making me quiver. “You have two minutes to get on that plane, or I’m adding to the scent right here on the runway.”
I take in a sharp breath, my thighs clenching as I pull back, looking into the swirling vortex of his eyes, seeing only primal need and truth there. He really will claim me like an animal for all to see if I don’t get a wriggle on. Her Vagisty practically drools at the idea, as if we weren’t just satisfied twice. Yes, twice.
Greedy bitch!