“Sweet words won’t get you anywhere with me,” he chuckled, though his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Suck my soul like a good girl, and I’ll give you what no one else has been able to.”
Before I could ask him what that was, his hand on the back of my neck tugged me down. I scrambled to my knees in the seat, lowering my lips to his tip. He tasted like toasted marshmallows, campfire, and pine—the scent of freedom. My Omega instincts screamed he must have smelled divine. I used my tongue to flick the slit that oozed with pre-cum.
“That’s enough teasing, V,” he growled. His grip turned punishing as he shoved me down on his cock. My lips spread, stretching until they threatened to rip, as I took him in my mouth. Dane was the thickest, longest man I’d ever had. My jaw hurt, and I hit resistance.
My eyes watered, and my throat burned when I hit my max. I couldn’t take him all the way—not yet—but I didn’t pull back. I wanted every inch.
“Fuck. I want to look at you,” he gritted out. “I bet you look pretty with my cock in your mouth. Tell me, do you have tears streaming down your cheeks?”
“Mm,” I hummed around his girth.
“Shit,” he cursed, his free hand white-knuckling the steering wheel.
I lifted off of him, inhaled when his cock wasn’t blocking my airway, and took him again. In this position, my ass cheeks were exposed. His hand slid down my back, fingers over my backside ever so slowly. My thighs shook with anticipation. Saliva dribbled as I used my fingers to lather his knot, cupping him while I ground against his monster cock.
“You were made for me, weren’t you?” Dane asked.
I hummed around him, and he let out a guttural sound. My body jerked as his hand came down hard on my backside. The sting was a live wire, waking up parts of me long dead. I widened my legs as far as the seat allowed, sucking him with a desperate, needy greed.
“You like that, don’t you, Babygirl? You like it when Daddy spanks you,” he growled.
He didn’t need an answer; the wetness seeping onto the leather was enough. I hadn’t been this wet in so fucking long. His hand moved from my backside, his palm smacking against my pussy with a sharp crack. I jerked forward, arching as I took him deeper than I ever had, my throat constricting until he groaned. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. He rewarded me with two fingers, hooking deep inside me, matching the rhythm of my mouth, and gave me the anchor I craved.
He pulled his hand out to spank me again—I saw stars—then thrust back in, his thumb finding a new territory at my entrance. My pussy and ass clenched, and a low, rumbling growl vibrated from his chest. He was pleased.
The car accelerated, the engine roaring as his fingers sped up. My orgasm towered, seconds from scaling when he abruptly pulled his hand away, leaving me yearning.
“You’ll come when I allow you to,” he hissed. His nails scraped my scalp as he gripped my hair, tilting my head back to thrust into my mouth.
“Is this how you sucked the last guy?” he growled.
I whimpered, a gargled sound of submission. His anger was a drug; the sharp pain of his grip, a need. He’d said he wasn’t angry about the others, but his punishing thrusts told a different story. He fucked my mouth, erasing everyone who had come before him, a silent claim that mocked his own high Snarl score. He acted as if I were the only one—a lie I was too far gone to careabout. His thrusts didn’t splutter as he got closer and closer to coming. If anything, they became harder, faster.
“You’re a dirty whore, aren’t you?”
I stared up at him in the dark, vibrating around his girth. The car rolled to a stop, the tires crunching on gravel as he slammed it into park.
“I’m going to come all over your face, Babygirl. I’m going to mark you as mine and you’re going to like it,” he gritted out.
He pulled out, his length glistening in the dashboard light, before burying himself one last time and withdrawing. He held me by the hair, forcing me to watch as warm, heavy heat painted my face.
“Good fucking girl,” he praised.
And just like that, I was putty in his fucking hands. Thoroughly used, edged, and denied, yet completely satisfied. He released me, and I sank back into the seat, my lids heavy. My door opened, and before I could move, warm arms enveloped me. He lifted me into his strong embrace, and as my head lolled against his chest—for the first time in years, I felt safe in a man’s arms.
Dane’s warmth enveloped me, and though my lips were swollen and my throat ached, I snuggled closer. My nails dug into his flesh. Even through the hazy consciousness, his strength was absolute; he didn’t hitch me up or struggle with my weight once. He just held me—steady, unyielding, and effortless.
Then the darkness shifted. Men were scrambling around us. Dane froze. The steady rhythm of his stride snapped to a stop. I saw them before I heard them.
Abort!
My mind turned off, and I was a spectator in a movie of my own life. Scenes darted by—armed guards, heads bowed. Pieces snapped together. Guards meant military, but bowed heads? That meantrespect. To Dane.
I caught flashes of grand rooms, dark stairways, and dimly lit hallways. I was intoxicated, but I wasn’t making this up. This wasn’t a base. Something scratched at the furthest corner of my mind: Pack.
It didn’t make sense. Dane was a Sergeant, and they lived in tiny rooms on base with other men—not in grand estates with armed guards.
Is this his home?
