Page 77 of Infinite as They Come
“Do.”
“Don’t.”
“Do. You love that I don’t talk to you like those little prim and proper country club boys,” he said as he leaned into me more, lips ghosting along my neck. “You don’t want polite. You don’t want good manners and a fancy suit. Nah, you want this.”
He was right. He knew that he was right too. That was one of my favorite parts about him: that he was the opposite to the type of guy that I was supposed to like. That he was loud, rude, and had that filthy mouth that always made me blush. I whined, legs shaking as he pumped in and out of me faster. He wrapped his lips around a nipple as he pushed into me deep, that filthy sound of my slickness and skin hitting skin filling the truck.
“You love that I’m not scared to get my hands dirty like them,” he grumbled, hands grasping my hips tighter as he pushed into me deep. “You don’t want some little boring trust fund brat who’s scared he’ll mess up his hair. You don’t want that. You want this. You want me. You want me to ruin you, princess.”
It was everything in me not to just collapse against his chest as he took me. It was his hands on my hips that were keeping me upright, my eyes struggling to stay open as I stared down at him. But I could see him there in my blurred vision. His eyes were that tiny bit narrowed, heavy with desire, darkness, hunger. I cried out when he hit that sweet spot deep inside of me,that spot that had me clawing at his hair.
“You think any of them could touch you like this, honey?” he asked. “Hm? Think they’d know what to do with you? How to fuck you right?”
My head shook. No, no, no. I knew that they couldn’t. I knew no one but him could have me trembling in their lap, lips parted to let out cry after cry, my skin all flushed and that spot between my thighs so, so wet.
“You think some little spoiled brat who’s never had to work a day in his life could make you feel this good?” he asked, fingers pressing into my hips.
“Mm, n-no.” The words were a struggle to get out, that pleasure flowing through my body all fast and hot. “Just… Just you, Sawyer. Just you.”
“That’s right.” Then he cleared his throat for a second. “Hey, if you could move into a house tomorrow, how many bedrooms would you want in it?”
Brows pulling together, I gave my head a shake at the sudden shift in his tone. “What?”
“How many rooms?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Tell me how many rooms you want.”
“I don’t know, Sawyer, you kinda sprang a very strange question on me at a bad time!”
“It’s not a bad time. It’s a perfect time. Couples are supposed to talk about this sorta stuff together.”
“Not while they’re—oh, Sawyer.” He had hit that spot again, my thighs shaking either side of him as he pulled out just an inch and hit it once more when he pushed back into me. “Please, please, please.”
“Tell me.”
“I… I don’t…” My eyes were rolling into the back of my head, my brain not able to string together a proper sentence let alone answer a question like that. “Sawyer, please, feels so good.”
“Three bedrooms?” he asked, voice gruff but level. “Three or four? Five’s too many. Who the fuck needs five?”
“Oh my God, Sawyer, shut up,” I said, but then he forced a long whine out of me as he pulled almost all the way out and pushed back into me, letting me feel that delicious stretch of him again, all thick and long. Head lollingback, my fingers desperately pulled at his hair. “Mm, God, so much. There’s so much. Can feel… Can feel all of you.”
“Yeah, I know I’ve got a big cock,” he said, using one hand to grab my chin to keep me facing him, “but I need you to focus.”
But I couldn’t. It all felt too good. His hands on me, his gruff voice, every inch of him pushing in and out of me with nothing in the way. I loved feeling him like this. Every ridge, every vein. It always made me feel so close to him, so connected, all locked together as one—even if we were in the middle of some ridiculous discussion about houses and rooms.
“Can’t…” I managed to say, eyes half lidded. “Feels… Feels so good…”
“You want a mansion?” he asked. “You want some big house with a thousand rooms? Hm, baby? Is that what you want?”
My head shook wildly. “N-no. Don’t want that.”
“Maybe you do want it. You wanna live in a house with so many rooms that you don’t have to see my face when you’re pissed off at me.”
My arms swung around him at that, lips crashing to his in a messy, frantic kiss. Tongues tangled. His hands kneading at my ass, mine all knotted in his hair. Him giving me all of him while being completely soaked with me, every thrust so deep I could have sworn I felt him in my stomach.
“Wanna…” I said against his lips. “Wanna see you all the time, Sawyer.”
