Page 91 of Kortlek

“No, you’re not okay,’’ Cove snaps. “I’m not okay! Do you know what was going through my head when Blair called Arlo to tell him you disappeared? Do you know how fucking anxious and terrified I was while we were speeding through the traffic? Aria, you’re a magnet for fucking trouble, and I can’t protect you unless you stop acting so stupid!”

“Whatever gave you the impression I want or need your protection?”

Cove’s jaw tenses, and he pulls over to the side of the road, parking the car and ignoring the honking of other people driving by at his sudden pause. He shifts to look at me, eyes wide with anger. He takes one last drag of the cigarette before putting it out and tossing it out the window.

“I don’t give a fuck, Aria. I will protect you. I don’t care if you want or need it. I’m of no use to you otherwise!”

“I’m not with you just because you can protect me, Cove. You have to know that.’’

“It doesn’t matter! It’s my job to protect you, to take care of you, and to love you. This is my final warning — either let me or I will do it, regardless of what you say or do. I will lock you up somewhere far, far away, and you’ll never see the light of day again! Fuck!” He slams his head against the steering wheel.

Silence surrounds us, and I struggle to find the words to give a snarky retort. Then, my mouth closes when I hear just how soft and vulnerable his voice becomes.

“You’re all I have, Aria. I can’t lose you. Please, let me take care of you.’’

“Look at me, Cove.’’

He hesitantly raises his head off the steering wheel, and if the situation weren’t this emotional, I’d laugh at the sight of the red spot on his forehead from the harsh slam he did a moment ago. Instead, I kissed him.

He doesn’t waste any time kissing me back.

Cove pours all of his frustrations, fears, and anxiety into the kiss, and no matter how much I’d like to, I can’t match it. His lips move harshly against mine, swallowing every little moan and whimper, that I don’t hold back.

His hand sneaks around my waist, and I release a small squeal as he pulls me to sit on his lap. Nothing can be heard except the pouring rain and our lips molding together. His fingertips roam my lower back, sliding under the shirt and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Cove wraps his free hand around my throat, tilting my head to the side and deepening the kiss. The taste of nicotine lingers on his tongue, and I’m surprised at how addictive it tastes. My nipples harden under the soaked shirt, a deep, animalistic sound rumbling from his chest.

He breaks the kiss, moving his lips to the side of my neck. My eyes close and my head falls back, giving him better access. He bites, nibbles, and sucks on my sensitive flesh, marking me thoroughly.

An impatient groan vibrates against my neck, and Cove doesn’t waste any time. He pushes the car seat all the way back, then unbuttons my pants, slipping his hand into my underwear. Not once does he stop the attack on my neck, and the double stimulation causes loud moans to fill the car.

The moment his fingers touch my clit, a shudder runs through my body, and I whimper out his name. He curses against my skin, then pulls back to look at me. I’m not sure how it happened, but his hair is disheveled and messy, and his eyes — fucking hell.

Those eyes are my undoing. That perfect shade of hazel, the way his pupils dilate whenever he’s aroused and whenever the cause is me. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the cause is always me. His plump lips are parted, and he swallows thickly.

“So wet for me,’’ he murmurs in a low, deep tone that only makes me wetter. He chuckles, slowly stroking my sensitive bud. “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re drenched.’’

“It’s the rain,’’ I lied.

“Mhm,’’ he muses, amused. “Sure it is.’’

His cock hardens under me, and I’m struggling to keep myself in check. I want to suck his cock, to taste his cum, to feel it fill my mouth and slide down my throat. And at the same time, I want to feel him inside me, to stretch me as much as possible, and to hit that sweet spot deeply inside me.

Raw, primal lust flashes behind his eyes. A whimper of disappointment comes from me when he removes his fingers from my underwear. Cove keeps eye contact while bringing the fingers to his lips and sucking them clean.

“Fucking perfect.’’

“Cove, please.’’

“What do you need, bunny?”

“You,’’ I breathe out, slowly tossing my shirt to the passenger seat, leaving me in a sports bra. Cove’s hands rip it off me before putting his mouth on my aching nipple. My eyes close, my body trembling as he grazes it with his teeth.

He sucks on it, and it’s almost enough to make me come then and there. He pulls back, releasing my nipple with a pop, then reaches to the glove compartment. He pulls out a small knife, and before I can ask what he’s doing, he’s already done it.

He cuts off my pants in a few spots and just pulls the torn fabric off my body. He throws the knife to the back of the car and uses his hands to rip off my underwear. He pushes me back a little, glancing down at his hardened cock, confined by the clothes.

With shaky hands, I undo his belt and his button and pull him out of his boxers. He’s hard, his rosy tip glistening with precum that drips down the base. I give him a couple of firm, long strokes, watching as the precum starts to pour out of him.

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