Page 53 of Gunner

“Yes.” I wriggle in his lap. I realize how wet I am, leaking through my panties onto his jeans. A name is a sacred thing, having lived as Haley Black for the past five years I know how it feels to keep a part of you hidden. “Have you told anyone what it is?”

“No. When I started living on the streets I took another name, my real first name made me stand out too much. It didn’t take me long to get a fake ID and later, I bought something ironclad. That’s who I became, Rocco Lombardo, but it’s not who I am.”

“You wantmeto say it?” That’s such an honor that it hurts to catch my breath. It hurts my stomach and my chest and makes me want to roar at the world in retribution for the pain it caused this man.

He kisses the shell and breathing out so softly. “I’m Ronan. Just for you. Only for you.”

His name. Him. I don’t care which he means.

I’m so far gone.

Both right now and in every other way.

I grasp his cock around the base again and widen my legs. My other hand is at his shoulder for support. He pushes my soaked lace panties to the side. There’s not much there to begin with. He leaves his hand, pulsing against my thigh, as I position myself on him and sink down, allowing the tip of him to stretch me. It’s so good. So big. It burns exactly the way I’ve been craving.

I should go slow, take him like someone who doesn’t want to wreck herself, but I do. I want to wreck myself with this man.

I ram him all the way home in an instant. The intrusion makes me gasp. It hurts like a mother until I wriggle and rock forward. My body doesn’t need to adjust to him. I mean, yeah, okay, it does and it will, but it also feels like I was made for him. The hurt is sweet. I wouldn’t mind it if I could feel him for hours.

Days.

I clench all around him, then slowly rock. It’s an awkward position and he needs his feet planted firmly on the ground to keep us balanced and upright, but his hands grasp my ass cheeks. I work with him as much as I can, the seam of my panties and the edges of his jeans getting in the way, but it’s so hot. It’s even hotter when he guides my hips up and down to meet every one of his thrusts.

I grasp his hair and bring his face to my breasts. He tugs down one of the bra cups with his teeth and then the other, freeing my breasts just enough that they bounce with every rough movement.

He licks me there, his mouth so hot in contrast to the breeze that blows over my skin.I love the way it caresses my skin, the play between hot and cold.

His cock is so thick inside of me that I can barely breathe every time he fucks me up and down his length. I arch into him, letting him claim and mark me. He licks my breasts, sucks the nipples, brushes his stubbled jaw over them, scrapes his teeth over my sensitive skin, his cock causing pleasure so hot and wicked inside of me that I probably won’t survive the onslaught. I might talk a big game, but I’m half boneless already. I throw my head back, letting him support me, giving him a little bit more space so he can hit even deeper.

I’m going to come. I want to hold it back, but it’s hard when he’s as wild as I am, somehow fucking me with all his strength and power behind every thrust and holding up a Harley at the same time.

His mouth ravages mine. He’s entirely the one in control, setting the pace. I’m so lost, on the edge, heading straight into that blissed out territory. He kisses me just as hard as his fingers dig into the soft skin of my hips.

He leans back even further, the bike solid beneath us, and lets me grind against him. When I lean forward, his dick stretches me even harder, even though I’ve been taking him this whole time. I’m able to grind my clit against him. It sent me straight to the edge.

“Not yet,” he grunts. “Not fucking yet, Dil.”

He hoists me off his lap and sets me on the ground. I wobble a step, getting my legs back from their rubbery state.

While I stand there wondering why he’s shifted me off him, he kicks the bike into freestanding. He toes off his boots and rips down his jeans and boxers.

He looks over at me with those soulful, dark eyes, but right now they’re blown out and predatory.

Run.

My instincts scream at me and I take off, my hair fluttering, ass and legs pumping, probably the most absurd sight in my half-undressed form, laughing wildly at the challenge.

Like in all the bad horror movies, Gunner—no—Ronancatches me within a few strides which as I’m not really running isn’t a surprise. His huge, naked body is on top of mine, tackling me down gently into the grass. His arms wrap around my waist and one palm smooths up my back, forcing my face down into the fragrant green grass. I didn’t know grass could smell this good without it being cut. I was wrong. It’s fresh and wild.

I groan as soon as he puts both of his calloused palms on me, his fingers spanning my ass.

“Spread your legs like a good girl. I want to see how wet you are for me.”

I force my legs further apart, digging my knees into the ground. I arch into my arms like the perfect yoga pose, sticking my ass up in the air.

Ronan kneads my flesh. “So beautiful,vita mia,” he groans, sounding half broken.

My nails dig in tighter, the scent of fresh dirt rising up by my face. Of all the endearments he could have used, he’d pick the one that meansmy life.

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