Sometimes, I needed someone to tell me when enough was enough before I tore myself into pieces.

I fumbled for his belt buckle, wrenching it open and grabbing his cock through his briefs. He was hot in my hand, throbbing when I squeezed. He shoved me to my knees and I pressed my face into his groin, inhaling deeply. I was practically salivating, my head flooded with the musky scent of him.

He jerked his briefs down, and I dug my fingers into his hips, taking his cock into my mouth until my nose was buried in his dark hair. He thrust into my throat, one hand pressed against the back of my skull.

“Choke on it,” he said, and the pleasure in his voice made me ravenous. “Get it wet for me, pup.”

He held me down until I gagged, until my eyes watered and I couldn’t breathe, my lungs aching for air. But I didn’t care. I wanted to reach that edge of endurance and push past it.

He pulled out of my mouth, and my lips were still parted when he spat on my face.

“Thank you, sir.” I grinned up at him, my chest tight with feral laughter at the bliss of having him over me. He hauled me to my feet and turned me around, dragging his nails down my spine.

He pressed against me, pinning me in place before he said, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

The seconds he was gone, rummaging in the front of the Bronco, felt like an eternity. I held my breath, counting each moment as it passed, resting my forehead against the window’s cold glass. When he returned, he had a little bottle of lube in his hands.

We kept that shit everywhere, just in case. Glove boxes, bedside drawers, jacket pockets. We weren’t going to be caught unprepared.

He made me stand in place as he undressed me. Starting with the boots, he knelt to pull the yellow laces loose. He pulled my jeans down, slapping my hands away when I tried to do it myself.

“Be patient,” he said, once I was naked and he was still dressed. My back was to him, my chest pressed against the vehicle. It was so hard to remain like that, to obey his orders not to move and just wait. I wasn’t patient. The anticipation was nearly impossible to bear.

“Make it fucking hurt,” I said, repeating the words like a prayer as he kissed my shoulder, dragging his nails down my arm. There was a sound, the click of a bottle cap, and then his fingers probed me, slick with lube. One pressed inside my ass as he gripped the back of my neck. He took his time before adding a second finger, and I groaned as it squeezed inside.