Page 20 of Car Wash
His jaw tightens as he spreads my legs wider. I can see his throat move as he lets out a long, hard breath.
“I am going to treat this pussy right, fill it up with so much cum that everyone is going to know you belong to me. You’ll never want to look at another man. You’ll be fucking addicted to me, just like I’m addicted to you.”
His dirty, possessive words swirl around in my brain as he presses the tip of his cock against my opening.
He holds there for a breath, then pushes in—slow and deliberate—stretching me open around his thick head. The pressure is sharp and overwhelming, but I take it, gasping as he inches deeper, deeper, filling me in a way nothing ever has.
It’s like my body’s been waiting for this, clenching around him, pulling him in.
I grab his neck and hold him close. I can feel every vein, every ridge, every throbbing inch inside me. My walls flutter around him, tight and greedy. I can’t think. I can’t speak. I just feel.
He starts to move—slow and deep—then picks up the tempo until he’s fucking me hard and fast. The impending release is roaring toward me like a freight train. I’m blinded by emotion. I’m basking in it.
“Fuck, I’m going to cum in this sweet little pussy,” John says. “I’m going to fill you up with my hot cum and I am never going to pull out. It’s going to be bare and raw every time.”
My mind races. My head spins.
I want that. So fucking badly.
He stills above me and presses the palm of his hand over my mound, then buries himself deep as his cock explodes. I can feel every jet of cum, hot and thick, painting my insides.
It feels like I’m being taken apart and put back together, better than I was before.
Everything peels back—the room blurring at the edges. There’s a sharp pressure behind my eyes, this raw ache of love and sensation that sends me spinning.
My pussy is packed full. There’s nowhere else for him to go. I’m stretched, swollen, aching, and so completely his.
“Fuck,” he growls. “You feel like heaven.”
I collapse, back against the bed, my whole body tingling. John drops beside me with a blissed-out look on his face. I roll toward him, press a kiss to his cheek, and start to get up, peeling away.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he laughs, grabbing my hand and tugging me back.
He scoops me into his arms and carries me toward the bathroom.
“I think you’ve already decided where I’m going.”
He has.
And I don’t think I’m ever going to leave.
Chapter Eleven
Sarah
When I wake up,it’s to cool sheets and the whisper-quiet hum of central air. I stretch slowly, blinking in the golden light as it filters across the room. Somewhere nearby, soft instrumental music is playing — just loud enough to feel expensive.
Near the en-suite, there’s a clothing rack hung with a few casual dresses, a pair of soft sandals, a wide-brimmed hat. A small notecard rests on the nightstand, written in tidy black ink:
Meet me outside. – J
I slip into the softest sundress of the bunch, grab the hat, and wander to the window. Down below, John is standing in the driveway next to that ridiculously sexy red car, looking calm and collected like he didn’t absolutely destroy me last night.
I take the stairs slowly, still feeling him between my legs, still catching myself grinning. I step out of the house and into the sunshine.
“You didn’t wake me,” I say, putting on my hat as I walk toward him.
“You looked peaceful,” he says, slipping his sunglasses on. “I didn’t want to ruin it.”
