“You’re going to come for me,” I tell her, speaking the words against her folds, “and you’re going to let me hear it. Give me everything.”

It takes a few more minutes of coaxing, of rubbing and sucking on her clit, but it’s just as earth-shattering as I remember. Her twitching muscles; her eyes squeezed tight shut. Her lips parting and letting out a hoarse cry. I lick her through all of it, and only once she’s slumped against the car seat do I push to my feet, tugging at my belt, fingers clumsy around the leather.

“You sure you want to keep going?” If I hurt her again… I can’t stand it. “We can wait if you’re sore. Or if you don’t want me like that yet. We can wait however long you want.”

“I’m sure.” Josie fumbles at the side of the seat for the lever, then lowers the back down flat in a few jerky motions. “Here you go. The height of luxury, Mr Bray.” She flops over onto her belly, props herself up on her elbows and smirks at me over her shoulder. “Hop on.”

Well, shit.

I don’t know how anyone could resist the lure of Josie Martin’s bare ass wiggling an invitation in the morning air, nor her bright peal of laughter when I curse and climb into the car, tires dipping.

“We have beds,” I point out, yanking my jeans open and kneeling behind her. “And sofas and table tops. So many flat surfaces.”

“Come on.” A hand reaches back, and fingernails scratch along the denim covering my thigh. “I thought you’d like a challenge.”

I like beds too, but it doesn’t matter, because I like Josie best of all.

“Deep breath, baby.”

I line up with her entrance and press forward.

Thirteen

Josie

Full. That’s how I feel when Everett Bray splits me open with his cock.

Perfectly, blissfully full.

Like there was a chasm inside me that I never noticed, and now I’m complete for the first time. I know it’s nuts, but that’s really how it feels.

“You okay, Josie?”

It’s sweet that he worries, his deep voice taut with strain as he fights not to pound me into the cracked leather. Fingers flex on my hips, and he’s so careful inside me. So still. But there’s no need for him to fret; no need to hold back.

I want it all.

I want the full caveman-Everett experience.

Biting my lip, I nudge my hips back, sliding him into my body then pulling away. Taking him deep, then rocking forward. If I need to get this ball rolling, I will, and the friction feels so freaking good that I’m glad he can’t see my face. My eyes have probably crossed.

It’s even better than I remembered. He’s so thick and hard between my legs; so warm and strong behind me. Broad and gruff and burly.

Everett.

I never dreamed that we could have this. That we could finally, blissfully give into the forbidden temptations that have tormented us both for so long; that we could release the white-knuckled grips on our control and let our poor bodies relax.