He moves so much faster than I can even process. One minute, he's in the front seat. The next, he's launching over it like a giant comet, all hands and curses and desperation. He lands in the back beside me on his knees, already reaching for me.
Within seconds, I'm flat on the seat beneath him with my legs around his waist and his face buried in my throat.
"This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go," he rasps, ripping through his zipper. "I was going to be a gentleman, kiss you at the door, behave. Fuck, butterfly. I can't behave."
"Don't," I gasp, rocking beneath him, every word making me want him more. I love that he wanted to give me something soft and sweet—that he wanted to be a gentleman for me. But I think I like this better. I like him a little wild and so turned on that he can't think straight.
I like being the reason he's so hard right now.
"Sidney, I…I…"
"I know," he says, his voice sweeter than I've ever heard it as he lines up at my entrance. His lips brush my throat. "I know, butterfly. Me too."
I melt beneath him, wrapped around him like a glove.
He nips my throat as he sinks into me, inch by inch. He goes slow. At least, he tries to go slow, but we're both so turned on, so desperate, that neither of us has much patience. We're greedy and want it all, right now.
"Please, please," I sob, caught in some net of pleasure and pain that's unlike anything. He's so damn big, and I'm so full. And still, it isn't enough. I want every inch.
He bites my throat, cursing as he pushes forward another inch…and then another.
Jesus Christ. This man is going to break me.
"H-how much more is there?" I choke, already stretched to capacity.
"Too much," he growls. "Be a good girl and take it for me, Hattie baby."
I dig my nails into his shoulders, turning my face toward his. His lips brush mine, and I taste myself on him. I taste him too—this unique combination that's all strength, heat, and Sidney. I want to remember his taste forever.
I never want to forget the way he kisses me, either. It's like he's a dying man, and my mouth is salvation. He sinks into me with a groan, his tongue tangling with mine. Every stroke claims a little piece of my soul, unlocking some hidden part of me that I don't think I ever realized existed until just now.
It's that part that I never got to experience before—the one that feels cherished as much as desired, the one that feels free and so damn safe at the same time. The one that aches for this man—not any man, just this one—so intensely, it hurts.
He touches that part, bringing it to the surface. He shapes and molds it, making me his in ways I don't think can ever be undone. In his truck in a dark parking lot, with his body sheltering mine, I admit to myself what I never have before.
I didn't ask him to date me because I was desperate. I asked because ithadto be him. Because, no matter how many times I lied to myself, he was always my type.
When this ends, it's going to break me.
But it isn't over right now. Right now, he's here, in my arms, inside me. And I have never, not once, felt this alive or this perfect.
"That's it," he growls, finally bottoming out inside me. "Look at you, taking me like a fucking queen." His lips brush mine again, and then my cheeks. "Jesus, butterfly. Are you okay?"
"Perfect," I whisper, my voice shaking.
"Yeah, you are," he breathes, one hand sliding down to my leg. He hitches it higher, squeezing gently. "You ready for me to move?"
"Yes. God, yes."
"I don't know if I can go slow. I've wanted this too fucking long."
"Then don't," I whisper back. "I can take it."
I see a ghost of a grin touch his lips in the dark. "Yeah, you can."
I try to say something in response, but the words get lost when he starts to move. Sidney Hawkes is a beast on the field…and an electric storm inside me. He fucks me like he intends to break me in half, driving in all the way to the hilt over and over.
I shake and moan beneath him, each thrust sending bomb blasts of ecstasy ricocheting through me. His mouth is everywhere—attacking my throat, kissing down my chest, biting my nipples until I'm sobbing. His hands are everywhere too, like he's trying to touch every part of me at once.
