Bad Things (Tristan & Danika, #1)(75)

Her legs wrapped around me, her dress so short that it rode up to her hips with the motion.

I wrenched my mouth away, sliding it to her ear. My breath was panting out of me, so I was breathless when I spoke. “I’m going to f*ck you hard on the hood of this car, in the pouring rain. And. You. Are. Not. Going. To. Forget. It.” I kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear between each roughly uttered word.

I felt her entire body tremble, and I shuddered against her.

I carried her to the front of the car.

I splayed her out, dragging her arms high above her head.

I straightened, keeping my hands on her knees, spreading them wide, and just looked at her.

Her dress had gone completely see-through, and it was more indecent than being outright naked. I loved it. I wouldn’t forget the sight for as long as I lived.

Her breasts heaved, the nipples hard and pink against the filmy white fabric. Trails of eye makeup ran down her pale cheek, her pitch black hair wet and messy, trailing into her face, and I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

I took my mouth to her, licking the rain off her skin, sucking at her through the soaking wet, paper-thin material of her white dress.

My hands got busy slipping off her tiny red thong, then unbuttoning my jeans.

I kissed my way between her legs, burying my face in her core, licking and sucking at her sex, the hot rain mixing with the taste of her, creating an intoxicating blend.

I didn’t come up for air until I was sure that she had lost her mind.

I jerked my cock out of my jeans, moving over her, pressing hard against her as I guided myself to her entrance.

“You gonna forget this?” I rasped into her ear as I worked myself in.

Her answer was a nearly unintelligible negative. I eased in and out, my pace slow as I closed my eyes and savored that perfect feeling of being inside of her.

She clenched around me like the tightest little fist and I lost my mind.

My smooth strokes grew into hard jack-knife thrusts, harder, harder.

My hands pushed her legs wide open, wider, and I pounded in and out, in and out, telling her just how beautiful she was, how perfect she felt, my mouth at her ear.

Her replies came in the form of whimpers and moans, and I thought that I’d missed that the most; the sound of the most controlled woman I’d ever met losing her shit.

“Let go, sweetheart,” I told her raggedly, so close to the edge. I reached down, finding her clit and rubbing it with the lightest touch, ramming hard. One contact so soft, the other nearly brutal in its roughness. “Come for me. I need you to. Give me everything you have, every ounce of that control, sweetheart.”

I felt her clenching me, the spasms that told me she was coming, and I rammed to the hilt and held, pouring into her. It felt like I left my body and came back into it, it was that intense.

I started to pull out, but she was so tight, squeezing at my base, so wet, the tight glide inside of her so f*cking smooth, that I found myself pushing back in before I’d fully pulled out, hard like I hadn’t just emptied myself inside of her.

I bent down, sucking a nipple into my mouth as my hips circled into a rhythm that started out easy, but had my neck arching and turned into a full on hell bent f*ck, my out of control need for her taking me over completely.

I made sure she came again before I sank deep, back bowed, and emptied myself inside of her. Again.

“I missed you,” I said into her ear. Maybe she’d believe me after that.

I shifted slowly out of her, shutting my eyes at the sweet pull of her on my cock. I helped her straighten her dress, which made her laugh, which made me laugh.

She ran her hands over her may as well be naked torso, smiling. “Am I all covered up?” she asked, pitching her voice loud over the still pounding rain.

“Get in the car, boo. If anyone else sees you like this, I may have to knock some heads together.”

I glanced around, relieved to see that we were the only car on the roof level. I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to think to look before.

I handed her into the car, tucking myself back into my pants as I moved around to the driver seat.

She was digging into her tiny handbag as I started to drive.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as though she was surprised that we were leaving.

“I’m taking you home,” I told her. “You can’t walk around in that dress now.”

She sighed, as though I were being unreasonable. “Well, I need to text Frankie. It was rude to ditch her.”

“Frankie will be fine.”

“It was still rude. And your fault.”

“Yes. Just tell her that. My fault. Problem solved.”

She played on her phone for a solid five minutes while I drove. I knew it was five minutes because I timed it, watching the dash and getting more rigid by the second, as she completely ignored me.

Finally, I couldn’t stay quiet for another second. “We going to talk about what happened back there?”

I saw her stuff her phone into her clutch out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t see her expression, because my eyes stayed on the road, but I felt her glare. “Yes,” she said bitingly. “Let’s talk about that. You didn’t use a condom, and you know how I feel about that.”

That stunned me into silence, as I hadn’t even thought of it. I did know how she felt about it, and I’d been so out of my mind, so mindless with my need, that it hadn’t even occurred. I’d never done anything like that before.