I fuckingneededhim. Inside of me. An hour ago. I would combust if he didn’t hurry and use me, making it hurt in the best way.
“Fuck me, Zoltán. Now. Rough.”
He pulled me to stand — or, more like, drag me to the bike. My brain was so foggy, my body so heavy with an aching need, I wasn’t in control of how he hauled me to the bike, leaning me over it.
“I need you.”
He swore and sank into me, hard and deep. And then he kept going. Every inch stretched me further and further until I could barely breathe. He gave me a moment each time to try and accommodate his size and whispered, “Ok?More?”
I nodded, over and over.
And then he bucked inside of me and grabbed my chin to swallow my choked gasps with his mouth.
He was brutal,hard, rough,just like I’d begged. His hands dug into me, held me against the bike so tightly, I knew I’d bruise.
I’d wear them like a badge of honour. Taunt him with them.
He panted against my neck, willingly speaking English,which wound me even tighter. “You scream. No quiet. Let go.”
The bike creaked beneath us as he filled me with delicious pain, littered me with sweet pecks, and clawed at me with a desperate urgency that claimed every inch of my needy body.
“Fuck—fuck!”
“Good girl,” he grunted, and his words tumbled out, switching languages almost word by word. “Milk my cock, tighten around me— yes, fuck —such pretty sounds, such a pretty face— Zsófia.”
I shattered around him, meeting each of his thrusts, my body quaking as he held me together, grunting as he came.
We stayed tangled, breathless as he pressed kisses into my neck, directly over my racing pulse.
I’d never had sex like it. Not even close.
And I wanted it again.And again.
He turned me to face him, and my vision cleared for the first time since he’d touched my thigh on the blanket.
The sky had turned navy, stars starting to twinkle above us in the clear night.
He cradled my face in his hands as I gathered my breath.
“You’re coming home with me.”
I nodded in his hold, and he kissed my forehead.
3
Chapter 3
Zoltán
I’d been on edge all day, waiting for a glimpse of her after weeks.
Listening. Watching.Hating the way the anticipation made my skin itch.
It was the first qualifying day of the championship. Press would be here.
Which meantshewould be here.
I’d expected to be bricking it over my first real race since the crash that had nearly ended my career, but all I could think about was her.
