Page 86 of Start Your Engines

“Hell no.” I stride to the Lamborghini, adding a wiggle to my bum that makes him groan. “This is the one I’m going to beat you in. Prepare for humiliation. I’ve missed whooping your sexy butt.”

Helmet on, I meet him at the start line.

Our time at the track is private, so with no one to start us, we struggle to communicate when we begin. As I’m about to go, Connor tears off the start line, his tyres squeaking as dust kicks up behind him.

“He’s forgotten how good I used to be,” I growl as I take off. Within a minute, I’m gaining on him. It’s been years since I raced like this. I come to this airfield several times a year alone to work out my frustrations or anxiety, so I know this track better than him. And I’ve driven this car before, too.

He cranks his engine and speeds up.

I take one of the curves, nearly spinning out. Is he laughing at me or panicking I’ll get hurt? I want his competitive spirit, not his protection.

He gets away from me, something he wouldn’t do if he were worried. This is the Connor I want, the guy who gives it all. To him, I’m not a pathetic creature who can’t race like a speed freak.

I grip the paddles. I’m climbing at over one hundred miles an hour. I lock it in high gear and gain the distance I lost.

We agreed to two laps, and as we pass the start line to signal we’re moving into the second, he’s still ahead and not letting me pass. While he’s not getting in my way to the point of danger,he’s pushing me, and the missile of the car I’m driving wants to burn rubber and destroy him.

Fighting for the win, which will be a win for both of us, is a turn-on I wasn’t expecting. When I’m usually here, I’m racing against myself. But competing against him and wanting to obliterate him fills me with the power and aggression that bleeds from my skin. This is like pure arousal mixed with adrenaline and the intensity of the high speeds that nearly killed us both in the past.

I didn’t realise how much I missed racing against him. I don’t know if I want to beat him or fuck him more, but either way, I’m screaming in delight. It’s the last stretch, and I briefly level with him before firing past.

I hope his eyes were wide as I sped past. I was too busy cheering and pumping my fist. I sail over the line and relish the victory and the speed that carries me to the other side of the track. He catches me, and I pull over, yanking my helmet off and ready to wave my victory in his face, but I don’t get the chance.

He walks towards me, the same fire in his stare that flamed my body during the win. He closes in on me, and suddenly, the joy of my win transforms into something sensual and power-driven. He lifts me and places me on my bonnet. I lie back as he surveys my long legs.

“Even though you beat me, you’re still my prize. Now show me what’s under this dress.” He pushes my legs apart and shoves the hem of my dress up to my hips. “Hmmm, you sexy brat.”

A warm breeze makes my skin chill at the naked wetness between my thighs. “You’re so fucking naughty, aren’t you, baby?”

I drag my lips into my mouth as he grips my thighs, keeping my legs apart. His gaze burns my pussy. I can’t get any words out. It’s like I’m on show for him as I pull down the straps of my dress to reveal my hard nipples.

“Fuck. I want every part of you.” But the sun has set, and it’s nearly dark. The car transporter will be here in minutes. “And when I get home, I’ll own my little speed queen.”

“But what about my prize for winning?”

“You never told me what you got if you won.”

“Your cock inside me on the bonnet of the winning car.”

“Good girl.” He flicks open the buttons of his shorts. He puts a condom on in record time. Then he leans over me, biting my nipple and thrusting a finger inside me.

“We don’t have time before the car transporter,” I say between gasps.

“I’m making time. If I want to finger fuck you to orgasm, I will.”

I cry out as his fingers curl, and he hits my G-spot. He licks and sucks at my nipples. I’m moaning as he pants, and as I’m about to panic that there won’t be enough time, he pulls out his fingers, sinks his hands into my hips, and penetrates me with his cock in one swift movement.

“Fucking soaking, baby. Racing does it for you, eh?” His eyebrow cocks. He grits his teeth.

“You do it for me, Connor. Beating you in a car that’s going fast enough to pour adrenaline through my limbs does it for me.”

He penetrates me repeatedly, sinking his cock into me, dragging me to the edge of the bonnet before pushing his dick so deep that he grips me harder. My breasts are bouncing. My back bangs against the bonnet of a car that costs more than his summer home, and my lips are painfully sore because I’m biting them, but he doesn’t stop.

His stare eats me up. My hair is all over the place from the passion-filled fuck, and then he puts my ankles over his shoulders and goes deeper. I can barely breathe. The noises of our sex are so loud I can’t believe the guard on the barrier hasn’t heard.

“You’re so sexy like this, baby. You’re a speed queen, a boss, and all mine. No one else touches you but me. You don’t fantasise about anyone but me and my hard cock. Is that right, baby?”

“Yes,” I whimper. The scent of burnt rubber is like an aphrodisiac, and I’m on the edge of coming.

---