Page 17 of Devil Inside: Green

DANNI

Ijump out of the car, seething. It takes me two tries because I’m so angry that I get tangled up in the seatbelt, and I slam the door as hard as possible. It doesn’t do a thing to soothe my temper.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout, flinging my arm out in his direction.

He rounds the bumper until we meet in front of the hood. “You insist on driving—you fucking need to know how to drive!”

“Iknowhow to drive. You need to shut the hell up.I’mnot the one who couldn’t keep his shit together.I’mnot the one who got so drunk, I almost killed someone.I’mnot the one who—”

Green crashes his lips to mine, drawing me in close and so, so tight against his strong, solid body. His heat radiates through me. I run my hands up over his shoulders, neck, and face to grip fistfuls of his hair, deepening the kiss. He groans, forcing my mouth open with his tongue, probing, exploring. It’s not enough. I need more and I bite at his bottom lip to spur him into giving me more. He growls down my throat. The sound is so sensual, so laced with need that it rocks me, my entire world.

I give him my answer by growling back, wrapping my legs around his waist. He moves his hands to my butt to support me. This is the most turned on I’ve been inI can’t remember how long. I grind against him.

The man tears his lips from mine while pushing my legs down from around his waist, then he flips me around, shoving me to bend over the hood of the car.

“Hands flat,” he grumbles in my ear. I press my hands flat on the car above my head. He yanks my dress up, tearing my panties from my body, and kicks my legs apart. “Tell me you want this.” His words rumble deeper in my ear, washing over me to settle in my core, ready to come undone from just his voice. When I don’t say anything because I’m too turned on—my mouth has gone dry and I can’t think to save my life—he says it again, louder. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want it.”

He rustles with his jeans behind me, I hear the tearing of a condom packet and then it’s on. Using his fingers to spread me wide, Green drives inside. I rear my ass up at the same time as my head shoots up. The muscles in my stomach spasm from the feel of his intrusion. He’s a full-body experience.

I gasp. “Oh my god!”

“Fuck, Danni,” he says as he starts to thrust his hips forward and up at the same time. “I’ve been trying to resist you since I first saw you in the clubhouse.”

I love what he’s saying, but I need him to go harder. “Break me in half,” I demand, rearing my ass back into his thrust, but with my hands flat, I can’t get the traction to keep it up. I need him to keep it up for the both of us. “Please—Ineedit.” I’m no longer shouting. I’mbeggingfor it.

Rather than give it harder, Green bends his body over the hood to cover mine, linking our outstretched fingers together while he continues to move inside me—in and up. Slower. Too slow. He’s driving me out of my mind. I try to rear back again, but he has me trapped. All I can do is take whatever he decides to offer.

“Green,” I whimper. He fills me in all the ways. He bites at the skin at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, pulling at it with his teeth, and throws in a twist with his next thrust. “Green,please…” I don’t know what I’m asking for now. What do I need? My heart beats hard in my chest. The walls of my sex begin to ripple. There’s pain from his bite and how he’s stretched me so wide, but he fills me with more pleasure than I know what to do with. Green inside me feels better than anything imaginable. It’s too much, yet I never want it to end.

I open my mouth to say his name, but only another long whimper escapes my lips.

“Leg up on the hood, Preppy,” he whispers, moving his body enough for me to bring my bent leg up onto the hood of the car, then trapping me under him again. The change in position does me in and I wail out my orgasm as my entire body seizes up. My heart stops beating, I swear. My lungs stop pulling in breath. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to absorb every last euphoric feeling rippling like an electrical current through me.

I become putty in his hands. He pulls out, flipping me to my back, hooking my knees to draw them up by my head, spreading me wide. His thrusts turn hard and plundering again—erratic. He’s close. He’s so close. The beauty of watching him orgasm, how his face contorts with ecstasy while feeling those thrusts, is enough to send me over the edge one more time.

This orgasm comes softer than the first but still feels like an out-of-body experience. Green presses his forehead to my chest as his body goes limp on top of me. I never want him to move.

Car sex. We had car sex, as in sexona car, notinone. Out in public where anybody could have wandered upon us. I’m alive for the first time since I received the news about my mother. I feel wild and naughty—andalive. He could teach me to be wild with him. I’m not the woman who loses control, but he gave me permission to be that woman and he doesn’t even know it. He made it okay.

At fifteen, I lost my virginity to my then-boyfriend. I thought at the time that I loved him. He loved me. He made it beautiful. Sweet. After homecoming. He rented a room at a local hotel. We showed up to the dance long enough to get our picture taken, and then we left. We kissed and cuddled—my nerves equaled my anticipation. We explored each other in a way we hadn’t been allowed to do before. As with many women, it hurt. We’d done it twice. The first time, a break so I could take some ibuprofen for the pain, and then the second time before he took me home because we both had a curfew. But his father got transferred across the country. The family moved before Christmas. I never saw him again.

I had one other sexual encounter—a friend with benefits—between my high school boyfriend and the naughtiest sex I’d had until now—and I still had it in a bed. The friend with benefits was fine. The naughtiest sex I’d had until now was better. Tipsy, New Year’s bed sex in a bed that didn’t belong to either of us. He was nice. It felt good. I got off, but he buried his face in my neck and we went missionary, which I actually like, but he never threw in a twist. We’d been seeing each other for about a month.

But Green and I have only known each other for a couple of days. We bicker most of the time. And yet, he went at me like he wanted nothing more in his life than to be inside me. Moving. Giving me pleasure.

The more I think about us and what we shared, the more I want to do it again. I like being that woman. I like feeling powerful and free.

He pushes off me, gives me a onceover, naked as I am from the waist down, rips the condom off, tossing it to the dirt off the road, and rights his jeans.

I—what?He just rights his jeans as if we hadn’t shared something incredible. At least he holds his hand out to help me off the car, but he doesn’t say a word to me. Did he like it? A man couldn’t climax that hard and not enjoy it, right?

Okay, so then does he regret it?Hekissedme. But I was the one who started grinding myself over his crotch like a wanton hussy. Oh, god—what if he’d been ready to end with just the kiss? What if sex with me never crossed his mind until I threw myself at him? Did I pussy assault a biker? No—he asked me if I wanted it.

Then what’s his problem? My skirt flopped down when I stood up. We both stare down at my panties lying in a small heap on the dirt. For his part, at least he has the decency to pick them up and hand them back to me. But, they’vebeen in the dirt. I’m not putting them back on my body. Uncomfortable now, I smooth out the wrinkles on my skirt before climbing back into the car and buckling my seatbelt. He stares at the car for a few moments, not looking at anything in particular that I can tell, before climbing back in beside me.

If he’s keeping mum, then I sure as hell am, too. My first time officially having my world rocked and he totally regrets it. Why else wouldn’t the man who just had sex with you talk with you?

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