Page 49 of Truck Stop Titan

Mind reeling after Dane’smygirlcomment, I stomped up the stairs two by two. When I reached the top, a wrecking ball hit my gut, the hallway spun, and all air was forced from my lungs. Faster than I could protest, Dane shoved through the door to my room, kicked it shut behind him, turned to engage the lock, then tossed me on the bed.

He crawled over me, his knees bracing my thighs, his face hovering inches from mine. “You were crying. Why?”

That was the last thing I’d expected to hear, and instead of explaining, I mumbled, “What?”

“You were crying. What happened? Do I need to kill that pretty boy motherfucker? Did he say something to upset you?”

“No.”

“Good.” He dropped a hard kiss on my nose, then pinned me with a cold, hard, assessing stare. “But he touched you.”

I rolled my eyes. What else could I do? Everything about the past ten minutes had been beyond ridiculous. “What’s the deal with you two?”

He dipped lower, dropping his nose into my hair, and inhaled. “You smell like him now.”

“Are you insane?”

Dane straightened, leaning back on his heels, my legs still pinned beneath him. “You fuckedmelast night.” He shoved a finger into his own chest. “We shared a bed. How the fuck would I be okay with you smelling like another man?”

Heat blazed in my cheeks. Other places, too, which only added to my befuddlement. “I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

He tugged the hem of my sundress up until my belly was exposed, then laid his hand over my skin, searing me like a cattle brand. “I’m gonna touch you. Rub on you. Fuck you until you smell like me again.”

Sweet mother of mercy why did that turn me on?

“The kids are right next door.”

He slid his hand lower, then gripped my panties. “Then you better be quiet.”

He shifted, rising on his knees, tugged a condom out of his back pocket and held it between his teeth, then yanked my undies to my thighs, grabbed my hips, and flipped me to my stomach.

I tried to scramble away, steal a second to find my bearings. Dane grabbed my hips again, lifting in one hard jerk, forcing me to my knees, my ass in the air, my face smashed into the bedding.

“Another man had his hands on you.” The mattress shifted. A sharp sting bit my ass. A hard, swollen cock slid between my wet folds, the stretch so divine I trembled.

My whole body came alive, my skin tightening and tingling, my belly swirling with delicious warmth, my heart and head warring overyou shouldn’t let him use you this way, andoh God, this man can use me forever.

“My ass. My tits.” He pounded into me, grunting a new proclamation with each thrust. “My pussy. My fuckin’ girl. Nobody touches my girl.”

Face buried in soft cotton, I couldn’t respond. Not that he would’ve heard a thing I said. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve said, because, holy effin’ shit the man was relentless and aggressive and touching me everywhere with hands and lips. I loved every volatile, confusing second of his reclamation, or whatever the hell he thought he was doing.

The man was strong, and thorough. He could break me if he were so inclined, but somehow I knew he wouldn’t cause any physical damage. He was fierce, but confusing in the way he took me, cherishing my body with light touches, yet holding me captive with possessive grips.

His grunts were heady. His words, filthy. The rhythmic slap of his hips against my ass and his balls against my clit a raw, beautiful anthem to our short story. I came fast and hard, and when my insides tightened around him, he gripped my hair and pulled me upright, holding me tight with one arm cinched around my waist, the other my chest. He bit my earlobe and then grunted, “What are you doing to me? What the fuck are you doing to me?” while he pumped, hard and fast and desperate, the bed scraping across the floor.

He came, grunting into my hair, his arms coiling tighter, his body taut and tense and vibrating.

We fell side by side on the bed, heavy breaths and disheveled clothing. A warm breeze caressed my exposed skin, and I shimmied, pulling my panties back into place, tugging my skirt over my bare ass.

“What was that about?” I rolled my head to find sad eyes roaming the length of me. “Not that I’m complaining. But seriously? What the eff?”

Dane flipped to his back, throwing one arm over his head, while the other lay over his stomach, inches from his still semi-hard cock. “I hate that fucker.”

“Yeah, you made that obvious.” My first instinct was to reach out, touch him, offer comfort, be the woman to soothe his wounded ego. But I had to stop being that woman. “Doesn’t explain what you just did to me, though.”

He huffed. “Not hard to figure out, gorgeous.” He rolled into the sitting position, then made his way to the bathroom, already removing the condom. “I like you. He touched you.”

“Dane.”

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