She gasps. "Please. I need you inside me. Now."
I withdraw. She whimpers at the loss. Gripping her waist, I spin her, guide her forward until she's bent over the seat, hands braced on the tank. Her back curves, scrub top riding up. She plants one foot on the ground, one knee on the seat. I drag my wet fingers down her spine. She shivers, rocking back into me.
"Stay just that way."
I free my cock, line up, and drive into her in one long thrust. She takes every inch; the sound she makes, low and broken, echoes off the trees. I grip her hips, thumbs digging into thedimples at the base of her spine. For a beat I keep still, buried deep, feeling her pulse around me.
"Feel that?" I growl, withdrawing before slamming home. Hard. "That's where his voice dies. Right here."
She drops her head between her arms, knuckles white on the tank. "Again."
I give it to her again. And again. Each thrust measured, controlled, angled to hit the spot that makes her legs shake. One hand stays on her hip. The other runs up her back, shoves her scrub top and bra higher, reaches around to cup her breast, rolling the nipple until she whines.
"My girl." I fold over her, mouth at her shoulder blade, hips driving. "I can feel you getting close by the way you're gripping me."
Her body clenches, wetness flooding around my cock. She shoves back into every thrust, meeting me, matching my rhythm.
I move from her breast to her clit, rubbing tight circles. "You want to come? Let me hear who makes you feel this way."
"Knox. Please."
"Mine to protect. To fuck. Mine to keep." I drive deeper, changing the angle, flattening her against the seat.
She breaks. Muscles seizing, air gone, her whole body clamping down as she comes with a sharp cry that scatters birds from the trees. When her arms give out, she ends with her cheek on the cool leather of the seat, body shaking.
I keep moving through it. Gentler now, each stroke coaxing aftershocks out of her. Her walls pulse around me and the pressure builds at the base of my spine.
"Stay with me. Stay right here." Her head turns. Eyes open, glassy with pleasure, find mine over her shoulder. "I love you," I say, voice wrecked. "You hear me? I fucking love you."
"I love you too," she gasps, and that's it. I bury myself to the hilt, clamp her hips to mine, and come. The sound that tears out of me is her name, over and over, spilling into the dark.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. My forehead drops to her spine. Her breathing evens out under my chest. Crickets fill the silence we left behind. I ease out, and she hisses at the loss. I turn her, lift her back onto the seat facing me, and bring her close. She wraps her arms around my neck, legs loose at my sides.
I slide two fingers between her thighs, pushing my cum back inside her. She gasps, body clenching around me.
"Mine," I murmur at her temple. "All of it. All of you." She nods against my chest. "Better?" I whisper.
"It's just you now."
My arms band around her. "Good."
She traces my jaw with her thumb, her expression easing into warmth. "You're surprisingly effective medication."
"Prescription only. Repeat doses. No substitutions."
She laughs, quiet, tucking against me.
I let the silence hold for a beat, ease back. Her scrub pants are tangled around one ankle. I crouch, work the fabric free, and guide them back up her legs. She lifts her hips and I tug them over her waist, smoothing the drawstring flat, tying it the way she does, double-knotted, left over right. Her scrub top is rucked up under her arms. I straighten it down, thumbs running along her sides.
She watches me the whole time. Quiet. Letting me.
I find her hair tie on the seat where it landed. She turns and I gather her hair, sweeping it back, wrapping the tie twice. Not as neat as she'd do it. Close enough.
"Since when do you do hair?" she murmurs.
"Since you taught me." I plant my mouth on the back of her neck. "Hold still." I tuck a loose strand behind her ear.
She catches my hand, touches her lips to my knuckles. We linger. I drop a kiss into her hair.
