“I don’t think I’m going to make it home,” I murmur. “Not without your hands on me.”
“Back seat then?” he suggests.
I nod.
We quickly scramble to the back seat, shoving the takeout bags to the floor without a care in the world. This is definitely not howI wanted my first time with Miles to be, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.
His eyes search mine as we settle in. Whatever he sees there, it’s enough. He kisses me again, rougher this time. His hands roam my torso, my stomach, heading down to grope me through my jeans. I groan and writhe under him.
“This okay?” he asks.
It is… and it isn’t. I want more, but I don’t know how to ask for it. After a few more kisses, I cover his hand and push harder. He gets the hint.
I touch him too, feeling his length through his jeans. We’re barely keeping it together, grinding against each other in the dark. He’s hard under my palm, hips bucking up for friction.
I reach under his shirt next, exploring hot skin and soft hair across his chest. I didn’t know he had chest hair. The camera hadn’t picked that up.
He’s so solid beneath me. So real. I lift his shirt, but he hesitates.
“What?”
“Just… don’t judge me, okay?”
He’s said this before, but hearing it in person guts me.
I cover his hand on my dick again, pressing down. “Feel that? That’s how much I want you, Miles. Please don’t ever doubt it.”
He doesn’t move, so I kiss him again, waiting until he relaxes before pulling his shirt off. I pull mine off too, and then he’s everywhere. Hands on my skin, mouth on my neck, breath hot and ragged against my jaw. The car is too small, too tight, too hot. Much too hot.
I undo my pants, shucking them and my underwear down. Miles curses under his breath, doing the same. Our breath fogs the windows. There’s no finesse, no plan, just friction and heat and something I can’t name. An aching. A bone-deep need to be with him. I felt it before, when we masturbated, but this? Toactually feel him? To feel his desire in my hand? On my lips? It’s pure bliss.
I stroke his shaft, wanting to memorize every curve, every ridge. He groans when I brush a thumb over the slit. “You like that?”
“Too much. You’re going to make me come.”
“That’s the point,” I tease.
“Not yet.” He sounds desperate, like he wants to prolong this.
I slow down. Miles touches me too, leaning in to kiss down my throat and chest as he pumps me. I spread my legs, encouraging him to touch my balls. He bends over to suck me, but it’s awkward and impossible in the tight space.
I reach across the front passenger seat to pull the handle on the side until it folds forward. With the extra space, I straddle Miles’ lap. He smiles at me, clearly delighted. It’s still awkward as fuck, with my head pressing into the roof, but I don’t care. Ineedto be close to him.
“You good?”
He nods. “Incredible.”
I grind against him, and Miles moans loudly, hips lifting to meet mine. “Oh, fuck, Jordan. You feel amazing.”
His fingers dig into my thighs, encouraging me. I rock my hips like I’m riding him, the whole car shaking. Every sound echoes in the small space, tingling across our skin. Our lips crash together as we make out. The air turns wet and heavy with the smell of sex and sweat.
I lean down to kiss his neck. Miles kneads my bare ass as I move atop him, his movements becoming frantic, and his hands are digging into me, like he’s hovering on the edge.
“Come with me,” I plead.
He turns his face, seeking my lips. That’s the final crack for me. The moment his tongue brushes mine, my orgasm crashesdown. Pleasure burns from somewhere deep, and my balls ache as they draw up to hug my cock.
Miles groans, lifting his hips and kissing me harder. He tries to get a hand between us, but can’t. “Touch my head,” he pleads.
