Page 81 of The Final Contract
“You want to know what I was thinking about the last time you drove me home from my sister’s?”
Her thighs clench, squeezing together as she shifts in her seat. She’s wetter by the second. I know it—can damn near smell it—because I’ve seen this look before. “How badly I wanted to come over there and bounce on your cock.”
That’s all I need to know.
“Take your panties off,” I order, voice sharp in the quiet.
Her breath hitches, but she obeys, sliding them down her legs and tossing them aside.
I whip the car onto a lonely shoulder, engine still purring low, and pull my cock free, thick and aching. My gaze cuts to hers. “Climb on, angel.”
She straddles me quick, the cramped cockpit forcing her close—closer than I can breathe. The second she sinks down onto me, I groan.
“Fuck, yes.” My head falls back, eyes squeezing shut at the way her heat takes me in.
But this time, I don’t steer it.
She palms my chest, pushes me back into the seat. Her fingers slip under the hem of my shirt. “Take this off,” she demands, voice husky.
I peel it over my head and toss it aside.
Her hands are on me instantly, exploring every line of muscle, nails grazing my abs. She pinches one nipple, hard enough I suck in a breath, and a dark chuckle spills from me.
“Christ, angel.”
She leans in, mouth hot on my neck, sucking until I know she’ll leave a mark. Her hips roll slow, deep, using me for every ounce of pleasure she wants.
“Ride me,” I rasp, my hands gripping her ass but not guiding—just holding on. “Take what you need.”
She kisses my jaw, then my mouth, grinding harder, moaning into me. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she bounces in the tight space, her pace rough, greedy.
“Take this cock any way you want, baby, because it’s yours.”
I can’t stop the groans tearing out of me. I don’t want to. Watching her take control—watching her use me—has me strung tight, ready to snap.
“You own every fucking inch of me.”
I yank the thin straps of her sundress down her arms, tugging her tits free of her bra. My mouth is on them in an instant—sucking, biting, devouring. She moans loud, nails scraping through my hair as she rides me harder. Her ass slams down against me and the car horn beeps every time she bounces on my cock. She braces behind her and flicks on the windshield wipers, which move as fast as her pace.
She shudders, head dropping back, and I can feel her clenching around me, dragging me closer to the edge with her.
“Fuck, Sera,” I growl, pulling her back to me, devouring her mouth as I spill deep inside her.
For a long minute, we don’t move—just cling to each other, breathless, sweaty, wrecked in the best way.
Her forehead rests against mine, her body trembling in my lap.
And all I can think is—this is it. This is exactly what I want for the rest of my life. Nights like this. Days ending with Seraphina in my arms.
Yesterday was perfect.
At Aurora’s birthday party, I hardly thought of my stalker at all. And the few times I did, Killian seemed to know before the thought even finished forming. He was always right there, his heavy presence chasing it away. One look. One touch. Enough to make me forget the shadows.
We showered together when we got home, steam curling around us, hands roaming like we couldn’t get enough. It feels reckless, teenage almost—like falling in love for the first time. Except this time, it’s real. It’s him.
We can’t stop kissing, can’t stop touching, and it feels so fucking good.
I’ve been rehearsing what I want to say. That I don’t want suitors anymore. That I don’t want to pretend this is temporary. I want him. Officially. Permanently. And I’m almost certain he wants it too.
