Page 48 of Overdrive (Speed Demons #1)

I'd never been this passionate with a man.

Besides, if this was my only time that I would have this man, then I would make the most of it.

There was no one around to interrupt us for once, nothing preventing us from acting on whatever desires we had for one another.

And something told me that he would have zero problem being rough or experimental with me.

“You do know,” I teased, my nipples tingling and clit pulsing as his other hand gripped my hip to haul me against him, “your reputation precedes you.”

He didn’t speak. He just stared—dark, burning, and unreadable. He murmured, low and filthy, “Next time you call me that, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until you choke on my cock. ”

Next time. God, I hoped there would be a next time.

I gasped, and then he shoved me back onto the bed. He gripped his cock through his briefs and stroked. I watched, enthralled and flushing at the sight. His teeth dragged over his lower lip as his eyes raked over me, then he crawled over me like a man starved.

“Only a slut would say something like that,” I whispered, nearly breathless, and then I held the condom up between us.

His eyes lit with something wicked before he leaned in so close I could see all the light shades of blue swirling together in his eyes. "Takes one to know one."

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Not with the way he was looking at me. He looked seconds away from devouring me, and fuck, I wanted it more than anything.

“You want a slut? I'll show you what a slut does.”

Then we were a frantic mess of mouths and limbs—hot and unhinged, greedy with touch.

He kissed me as though he needed it to survive, biting at my bottom lip as his hands shoved my thighs apart and grabbed the condom from my grasp.

My robe was half off, my bra twisted. I barely had time to breathe before he rolled the condom over his cock, grabbed my hips, and thrust in.

Fuck , the stretch burned. My eyes slammed shut, and the sounds we both made when he slid in the first time were absolute filth.

He was big and thick, and I took every inch as if my body was built for it—because it was.

He made me feel like it was. I couldn’t focus on anything but the way his hands gripped me and the sound of his low, feral groans in my ear.

The pressure curling deep in my belly like a fire that could no longer be contained.

“Fuck, Aurélie,” he growled against my mouth. His breath was ragged, and he was as breathless as I was. “You feel so fucking good. Better than I dreamed.”

He wasn't wrong. This was better than any fantasy I'd ever had about him, better than any fanfiction version of us. This was real, and it was fucking messy and perfect and addicting.

He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand, his other gripping my thigh as he drove into me—deep, brutal, completely unhinged.

His rhythm was fast and messy, skin slapping, hips snapping, filthy praises pouring out between gasps.

Every thrust, he rocked against my clit.

I couldn’t hold back. My legs shook around his waist. I whimpered into his mouth as my body arched up into his so I could feel him everywhere.

I was so full, so overwhelmed, so hot I couldn’t think.

"God," I choked out. " Putain , I'm so close. I need to come."

He grinned wickedly and slowed his pace, and my hands flew to grab his shoulders. My nails dug into him in frustration. "Ask nicely, love."

I jutted my chin out defiantly, planted my feet on the bed, and used my years of strength training to thrust into him relentlessly from the bottom.

His grin just deepened, and his dimple made a rare appearance.

Damn him for being so fucking attractive that it made my pussy clench around him as he pulled out.

He groaned when I did, dragging a hand up the column of my throat.

I swallowed against his palm, and he applied pressure. My lashes fluttered in response.

"Say please, and I'll let you come."

“Callum, please.” I didn’t even know why I begged for it without question, just that he'd asked and I wanted to give it to him.

I wanted to give everything to him, and in return I needed another fucking orgasm from the only man I'd been picturing for an embarrassing amount of time. “Please, please let me come.”

He reached down without missing a stroke and pinched my clit—hard and perfect, rough enough to sting, precise enough to make my vision go white.

The orgasm crested instantly, heat building from the soles of my feet to the base of my spine as if a fuse had been lit.

Tiny fireworks popped under my skin, nerves sparking, until the pressure finally detonated.

I came again, harder and messier. My body seized and clamped around his cock, so tight he hissed through his teeth. My back arched clean off the bed, thighs trembling, a loud, desperate cry ripping from my throat. He squeezed my throat a tad harder, and the release intensified.

“Callum—fuck—Callum!” I choked out, one hand grabbing his forearm to rake my nails down it.

It was too much and not enough. My body pulsed around him in powerful, relentless waves, one crashing into the next. I couldn’t breathe. Could only hold onto him like I’d fall apart without him.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he rasped, not slowing, fucking me through it as my vision blurred.

He loosened his grip, and I sucked in a grateful breath of air that brought me back down to earth.

He stroked his thumb along my collarbone before sliding his hand up to grab my jaw—not tight, just there.

It was possessive, as if to say you're mine now, say it back.

"So fucking pretty when you come for me. "

Callum shifted to grip under my knees, bending them high and pressing them toward my chest as he leaned in and slammed even deeper.

God.

I could practically feel him in my throat. He stayed there; deep, grinding, stealing every last drop of pleasure from me. Our sweat mixed. Our bodies trembled. I couldn’t stop moaning his name, which only made him thrust harder and faster.

Fuck , how is it even possible for someone to be that deep?

He bit me again, licked me, kissed me furiously. Whispered in my ear, “You. Are. Mine , Aurélie.” He came, and I felt him pulse inside me. I pulled him in for a kiss to swallow his groans.

I was on system overload, and yet I couldn’t stop. I was addicted, and the only way to satisfy the craving was to let him keep fucking me.

Raw, carnal desire.

Unhinged.

Desperate.

Possessive.

When it was over—when he collapsed beside me, still breathless and tangled in my sheets—I knew nothing would be the same again.

I told myself I just needed tonight, but I was wrong. Because after that? I knew. Just like what his tattoo represented and now I would need so much more than just tonight with him, even if I shouldn't.