Page 33 of Easy Steal

He tried to stand, hitting his head on the roof.

“Motherfuc-” he groaned, rubbing his head.

I chuckled pushing him back so he was sitting in the middle of the seat, and I straddled him. I guided him inside of me once again, and began to roll my hips backwards and forwards. His hands trailed lightly down my back, before he gripped my ass, pulling me hard against him with a groan.

I worked quicker as I grew close, and he leaned his head back against the rest, his breathing ragged and his eyebrows drawn together as if he were concentrating.

I ran my hands through his hair, it was still pulled back into a low bun, but parts of it were falling out around his face. He grabbed a fistful of my own hair, pulling it down hard and yanking my head backwards. With my neck exposed, he attacked, biting and sucking up and down my throat and jawline.

Rough, but soft.

Contrast.

Contradiction.

His teeth found my earlobe, tugging softly and that was it for me. I shuddered, my moans growing more high pitched as I tightened around him. He continued for me, bucking from below and using his hands around my hips to lift me up and down.

I grabbed the headrest behind his head and held on as my legs shook. Sam gritted his teeth and his nails dug deeper into my skin as I felt him let go inside of me before I felt his body relax under me.

I got off of his lap, and collapsed on the backseat beside him.

We looked at each other, both breathing hard, before we both started laughing.

I looked out the window for the first time.

“Where the fuck are we?” I laughed.

He shrugged, still chuckling, “I don’t know.”

I shook my head, throwing my arm over my eyes, “that was…”

“Wow,” he finished my sentence with a sigh.

He grabbed his shirt and began wiping my body and his car seats with it, using it as a towel. He pulled on his jeans as I put on my shirt. He threw his shirt to the floor, and leaned back as he watched me.

“What?” I said.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, “just-”

My phone interrupted him.

He reached forward, grabbing my jeans and pulling my phone out of the pocket.

His eyes looked at the screen for a moment before he handed it to me.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, “I didn’t mean to look. Force of habit.”

“It’s fine,” I laughed, “it’s probably just Rome.”

I looked at the screen and read the message.

It wasn’t.

10

Chapter 10

Sammy

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