“Meet me at our spot?”He grins.
“Yeah.”I know exactly why he’s asking.We’re a secret still.And if I leave my car here for too long, Violet and others will start asking questions.
We pull apart, our hands staying for just a second longer before we let go.I practically run to the car trying not to be too quick to draw attention to myself.
Then, I slip into my car, my breath coming fast, and drive.
Ten minutes.
That’s all it takes to get to Pulse Point.
And the second I park and open the door, Adrian’s already in the backseat of his car waiting, his expression dark and hungry.
His hands rest on my waist when I climb in next to him.“It’s going to be a hell of a long week not seeing you.I have to work all weekend, which sucks.”
I know the feeling.The thought of days without him leaves an ache in my chest I don’t want to acknowledge.
But I don’t want to waste time thinking about that.
He moves me on top of him, straddling his lap, and oh, God, I feel him.
He’s hard.He’s ready.
A small, needy sound slips from my throat as I rock against him.
“Fuck, Amelia,” he grits out, his fingers tightening on my waist, holding me still.
I kiss him, swallowing the low groan that rumbles from his chest, feeling the heat of his body through our clothes.
He thrusts his hips, just once, just enough to send a spark all the way to my toes.But he doesn’t rush.He lets me set the pace.
“I like this,” he rasps.“I like you using me, doing what you want to me.”His eyes burn into mine.“Take me as hard as you want.”
A shiver runs through me.
I lean back slightly, my fingers fumbling with his belt, my heart pounding loudly in my ears.He watches me, his hands sliding down my thighs.
But I need to get out of these clothes first.
I shift beside him, quickly shimmying out of my jeans, my skin flushed and feverish.The car is hot, full of our ragged breaths and the scent of us.
I keep my top on.So does he.
His cock juts against his open fly, thick, hard, waiting, and there’s something about it that makes me want to tease him first.
I slide down, dip my head, and take him into my mouth.
“Fuck, Amelia,” he groans, his hand threading through my hair, holding but not forcing, like he just wants to feel me.
Grip tightening slightly, he gathers my hair carefully away from my face.I moan, my hand wrapping around his base, twisting, stroking, giving him the friction he’s desperate for.
His hips jerk.
“Your mouth is perfection.”
His encouraging sounds make me dizzy with power.
But then—
