He laughs into my skin. “Practical as always.”
His hands take over, making quick work of his zipper before moving to mine. The sound of metal teeth separating fills the car, loud in the enclosed space. Cool air hits my overheated skin as he tugs my jeans down to access what he wants.
My head falls back as his fingers circle my length, grip firm but not rough, knowing how much pressure to apply. I’m already hard, already leaking, my body betraying how much I’ve thought about this since our last encounter.
“Prepared this time, so you wouldn’t leave my car a mess,” Rowan murmurs, his free hand retrieving a small packet from his pocket.
The tear of foil punctuates his words as he rolls the condom down his thick length.
The logistics side of my brain approves as the animal side grows impatient. My hands brace on his shoulders as I lift up, positioning myself above him.Rowan holds himself steady, the blunt head of his cock finding my entrance.
A breath hisses out of him when I drop onto his cock. “Always so tight for me.”
The fullness borders on pain, my body stretching to accommodate his size. My breath catches in my throat, trapped there as I adjust to the invasion. Rowan’s hands return to my hips, steadying me, while letting me set the pace.
I give myself ten seconds to adjust, counting each one in my head, before I begin to move. Up and down, establishing a rhythm aimed for efficiency over pleasure. But pleasure comes anyway, electric and all-consuming, as his cock hits the spot inside me that blurs my vision.
Rowan’s teeth find my collarbone through my shirt, biting down hard enough to mark but not break skin. The pain shoots straight to my groin, my dick jerking between us, trapped by the hard plane of his stomach.
“Touch yourself,” he rumbles, the vibration traveling through me. “Show me how you take your pleasure.”
I obey without thought, wrapping my fingers around myself, stroking in time with the rise and fall of my hips. The dual sensations of his cock inside me,my hand on my dick, push me toward the edge faster than I expected.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “You’re doing so good.”
The only sounds are our harsh breathing, the wet slide of bodies connecting, and the occasional creak of the leather seat beneath us. My thighs burn with the effort of maintaining the pace, but I don’t slow down.
Rowan’s hands tighten on my hips, his control slipping. “Close.”
My free hand grips his shoulder, nails digging in through his shirt. “Yes.”
He thrusts up, meeting me halfway, the impact jarring enough to steal my breath. Once, twice, and on the third thrust, he holds me down, grinding up into me as he comes. The pulse of him inside me, the pressure on my most sensitive spot, sends me over the edge.
My release hits hard. I bury my moan in his shoulder as I spill over my fingers and onto his shirt. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, my muscles clamping down around him, milking his cock until we’re both spent and gasping.
For five heartbeats, we stay frozen, connected and panting in the stillness of the car before reality returns. I have a job waiting.
I lift off him, wincing at the empty sensation anda soreness destined to make itself known each time I move, sit, or bend over today.
Rowan produces wet wipes from the glove compartment, another sign of preparation pointing toward expectations or habits I prefer not to examine.
We clean up in silence, straightening clothes and erasing the evidence of what happened.
My jeans fasten with a metallic snap that breaks the quiet. I run a hand through my hair, pushing the strands back from my forehead, aware of how I must appear, all flushed and disheveled.
“I’ll be back in two hours,” Rowan says as I reach for the door handle.
I twist to look back at him. “What for?”
“To pick you up and take you to lunch.”
My hand tightens on my work bag. “Who asked you to do that?”
“I want to.” The simplicity of the statement leaves no room for argument. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
I grab my tool bag from the floor. “I can take the bus.”
“You could.” His voice carries a dangerous edge of amusement. “But you won’t.”
