Park. She’s straddling me before the engine stops. Skirt riding up. Mouth on mine.
“You’ve been thinking about this since I called you,” she says.
“Every damn second.”
My hands find bare thigh—no underwear—but she catches my wrists. Pins them.
“Not yet. I wanted you to remember who decides when you get me. And right now? You don’t.”
She grinds once, cruel and perfect.
“I want you hard, aching, and still following orders. You can wait, can’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” My voice is sandpaper.
She slides off, smooths her skirt. “Knew you could behave. Drive me home.”
I grip the wheel the whole way, knuckles white. She stares out the window, hiding a smirk.
We get inside. No lights. Bag drops. Shoes off. She walks to the bedroom. I follow.
“Lock the door.”
It clicks. Not for privacy. For surrender.
She lifts her skirt. Bare. My cock aches.
“Clothes off.”
I strip fast. She watches like she’s inventorying something she already owns.
“On the bed.”
I sit back. She straddles me, skirt still on. Heat close enough to feel but not touch.
Her fingers trace me from jaw to chest. “Know what I’ve been thinking about since the cove?”
“Tell me.”
“How good you look when you’re trying not to touch me.”
My hips jerk. Her palm stops me.
“Not yet. You’ll take me exactly how I want. And you’ll thank me for it.”
When she finally sinks down, slow and merciless, skirt framing the movement, my hands lock on her hips.
Her voice is a growl wrapped in satin. “That’s my good boy.” She rolls her hips, once, twice, pulling a sound from me I didn’t even know I could make. “Now show me how much you missed me.”
I don’t start fast. I hook my hands around her hips, pulling her down as my hips thrust up, slow and deep, until she gasps. I do it again, savoring the heat, the way her skirt brushes my thighs, the way her eyes darken when I make her feel it.
“Like that?” I ask, my voice rough.
Her head tips back as her nails dig into my chest, a sharp bite of pain that only makes me want more. “Mmm… yes, Donovan… just like that.”
It’s all the permission I need. I grip her harder, pace turning sharp and deliberate, slamming her down to meet each thrust. The bed frame shudders beneath us, the air thick with the sound of our breathing.
Her breath catches, a small, broken sound that spikes my pulse. I do it again. And again. Her moan builds, winding tighter with every snap of my hips until she’s shattering above me.
