Two months in and we were addicted. Not to each other (we'd been addicted to each other since we were kids). We were addicted to the way we fucked, like every thrust was a confession we couldn't say out loud any other way.Jake started keeping a spare tie in his glovebox just for my wrists.
One Thursday night he picked me up from work wearing that crooked grin that always meant trouble. The second I slid into the passenger seat he yanked my skirt up, shoved my soaked panties to the side, and buried three fingers inside me while he drove.
"Keep your legs open," he ordered, curling his fingers hard against my g-spot every time we hit a red light. By the time we reached the overlook outside town I was dripping down his wrist, begging like a whore.
He parked facing the city lights, killed the engine, and dragged me into the backseat. My blouse was ripped open, buttons scattering. He sucked my nipples raw while I frantically unbuckled him, desperate for his cock.
He didn't even let me turn around. Just hauled me onto his lap facing away, gripped my throat, and slammed me down onto every thick inch. The angle was brutal; his cockhead punched my cervix on the first drop and I screamed into the foggy window.
"Ride me," he snarled, fingers bruising my hips. "Show me how bad my little childhood crush needs this dick."
I did. Bouncing like a desperate slut, ass slapping his thighs, pussy creaming down his balls. He reached around and rubbed my clit in tight, ruthless circles until I came so hard I saw stars, squirting all over the leather seat.
He flipped me then, face-down ass-up, and fucked me like he was trying to break the car. Windows rocked. Suspension squeaked. He wrapped my hair around his fist and yanked my head back.
"Tell me you love me while I breed this cunt," he growled.
"I love you—fuck—Jake, I love you—"
He roared and exploded, pumping me so full of cum it gushed out around his cock with every thrust. When he finally pulled out he shoved a thick butt plug into my pussy without warning.
"Hold that in till we get home," he said, smacking my ass. "Don't want to waste a single drop."Later that week he blindfolded me in his bedroom, wrists cuffed to the headboard, ankles locked in a spreader bar. He spent an hour teasing me with ice cubes and his tongue, dragging them over my nipples, my clit, even pushing one inside me just to lick it out again.
When he finally climbed over me I was shaking, dripping, incoherent.
He fed his cock into me slow, torturously slow, letting me feel every ridge and vein. Then he folded me damn near in half, knees to my shoulders, and started pounding so deep I felt him in my throat.
"Look at me," he demanded, ripping the blindfold off.
I opened my eyes and he was staring down at me like I was his entire world, sweat dripping off his jaw onto my tits.
"I used to pray for this," he rasped, voice cracking even as he fucked me raw. "Used to pray I'd get to be inside you one day. Now I'm never leaving."
He kissed me messy and desperate while his hips snapped harder, faster, until we both shattered. I came screaming his name, pussy milking him in rhythmic waves. He buried himself to the root and unloaded, flooding me so full I felt it in my womb.We never used condoms. Never even talked about it.
He just kept filling me up, day after day, like he was trying to erase every second he'd spent wanting me from the outside in.One Sunday morning I woke up to him sliding into me from behind, spooning me, one hand over my mouth so I wouldn't wake the house.
"Shh, baby," he whispered, rocking slow and deep. "Just let me love you quiet."
He fucked me for an hour like that, lazy and filthy, biting my shoulder to stay silent while I came over and over, soaking the sheets. When he finally let go he held me so tight I couldn't breathe, cock pulsing as he emptied inside me again.That night he bent me over the kitchen counter while dinner burned, fucked me so hard the cabinets rattled, then pulled out and came all over my face just so he could watch me lick it off my lips while he took a picture.
"Wallpaper material," he grinned, thumbing the mess into my mouth.We were insatiable.
Obsessed.
Completely fucking ruined for anyone else.And every single time he finished inside me (every single time), he pressed his forehead to mine, panting, and said the same broken words:
"Ten years, Em. Ten years I waited to claim you.
Now you're stuffed full of me every goddamn day.
And I'm still not done."I never wanted him to be.