Page 49 of Overdrive (Speed Demons #1)

We lay side by side, both still catching our breath as we stared up at the ceiling.

The room smelled like sex and sweat and her, and I couldn't get enough.

My chest heaved as if I'd just come off the track, lungs still trying to recover from the adrenaline of it all.

Except, it wasn't a crash. It was a fucking high.

Sex had never been that good. It had always felt like a means to an end—a release. But with Aurélie? The entire thing was an experience I never wanted to end.

I was still drunk on whiskey. Still reckless, grinning like a fucking idiot.

When I turned my head to look at Aurélie, my brain cataloged every little detail, never wanting to forget this moment.

Her golden hair was a tangled halo on the pillow beside me.

Her robe had completely slipped off her shoulders, exposing the cups of her delicate lace bra—her rosy nipples visible—and the angry bite marks I'd left on her collarbone.

Her lips were swollen, mascara smudged under her eyes, and her skin flushed all over.

She was wrecked and glorious. My masterpiece. I couldn't stop looking.

Then she giggled. Not a snarky scoff or a sarcastic huff. A real, girlish, utterly unhinged laugh. It surprised me enough to suck in a shaky breath and grin, because it was so out of character it felt illegal.

I rolled completely onto my side to face her. "What?"

She blinked up at the ceiling, sighing contentedly and smiling in a way I'd never seen before. But holy fuck, I wanted to see that smile on her face every day. "I was just wondering… why did we wait so long to do that?"

I couldn't help it. I laughed—a full, breathless, crazed kind of laugh. "No idea, love. Could've saved us both months of hell if we hadn't."

"Right," she scoffed. "I'm sure your pit chasers have benefited from your struggles."

Gaping at her, I pondered how the fuck I was supposed to tell her that there hadn't been another woman since she entered my orbit and refused to leave. Maybe I'd just been waiting to meet her all this time.

She turned her head slowly to look at me.

Her hazel eyes met mine, lashes damp and lips parted.

I didn't say anything, just took the sight of her in.

Her bottom lip was blossoming with bruises from my teeth.

The freckles on her nose were visible, and there was the faintest tremble in her hands as she reached to pull the robe tighter.

I almost snorted. Too late for that; I'd already seen everything. Jesus Christ, she was so fucking beautiful it hurt.

And she was here… in bed… with me .

I'd never felt so honored in my life.

I cleared my throat, needing to steer my thoughts to safer territory, because right now, all this claiming and jealousy and possession and teasing had my mind reeling with ways to make her mine way past tonight. "We're usually booked in the same hotels."

Her brows lifted. "So?"

"So maybe we don't wait so long next time." I propped myself up on one arm and leaned closer, dragging my knuckles along her bare thigh. My dick roused, clearly not having had enough of her. No, scratch that, I definitely did not get enough of her. "Maybe we make this a regular thing."

Aurélie swallowed. "A regular thing?"

I nodded. "No pressure. No drama. Just… this. Whenever we want."

She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. I probably had—she'd done that to me—but I didn't care.

Her fingers brushed my jaw, soft and slow, and fuck, it felt like heaven.

I leaned into her touch. Her thumb traced the edge of my mouth, eyes searching mine with something unreadable and intense.

Maybe she was memorizing me, too. Then she whispered, “This could be the alcohol talking.”

I cocked a brow, reaching out to hook a finger through the belt loop of her robe and tugged her closer. “We’ve been toeing this line for months , Aurélie. You think one night of heavy drinking is responsible for all chemistry to explode?”

Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Fair.”

“So no,” I murmured. “This isn’t the alcohol. This is us.”

"'Us' meaning, we almost fuck in a public hallway?"

I barked out a laugh. "If you wear that dress again, it won't be almost. Remember that."

She pushed up to her elbow. “So… this wouldn’t be a one-time thing?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Not unless you want it to be.”

She hesitated, then whispered, "I don't want it to be." For half a second, my heart fucking soared. "But it should be," she finished, and that soft little dagger landed square in my chest.

I didn't move, didn't breathe, just let that ache settle in.

And then she added, so quietly I barely heard it, "Because if we do this again, I won't be able to stop."

Before I could say something stupid like good , her robe slipped further down her shoulder as her fingers slid across my chest, light and curious, tracing the edge of an old scar. My eyes dipped to her tanned and freckled skin, landing on the large mark forming on her shoulder.

“I meant it,” she whispered, leaning in until her breath was warm against my throat. “It should be a one-time thing.”

I didn’t speak, I couldn’t, not with her mouth that close or with her fingers dragging lower. Even though she was lying through her fucking teeth.

“But it’s not going to be.” Her lips brushed the corner of my jaw, and my head spun from her proximity, her smell, just—ugh— her . Then her mouth grazed my throat, my collarbone, my pulse point. “Because now that I’ve had you… I want more.”

Yeah, that shattered my control. I rolled quickly, her gasp catching in her throat as I captured her mouth with mine. She laughed and pushed my shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"If this is my only night with you, I'm going to make it count."

Aurélie hummed and shoved my shoulder again until I was flat on my back, and I was rock fucking hard again. That seemed to be my constant state whenever I thought of her.

She kissed her way down my chest, slow and controlled, and I just laid there like a man under a spell. My hands clutched the sheets when she nipped lightly over my pec, then soothed it with a gentle press of her mouth.

"Auri…" My voice cracked, and I was utterly helpless. Her fingers curled around my cock with unholy precision. I jerked against her touch as she peeled the condom off and tossed it on the floor. My eyes fluttered shut as she stroked the base of my shaft with teasing, languid pressure.

"I don't just want more," she whispered, kissing her way down my abs. "I want to ruin you for anyone else."

Fuck.

As she reached blindly for another condom, I caught her wrist and guided her gaze back to mine.

“Eyes on me, baby,” I murmured, and she bit her lip.

I took the foil from her, tore it open with my teeth, and rolled it on myself without breaking eye contact.

I needed her to understand what she did to me.

She climbed over me, knees bracketing my hips. She leaned down to kiss me—deep and consuming, her tongue slipping into my mouth like she owned it.

Maybe she did. Maybe I'd been hers all along.

Her pussy was dripping, and I could feel the heat of her even through the thin barrier of the condom. I choked on a groan. My hands flew to her thighs as she aligned us, but she didn’t sink onto me yet. No, she hovered. It was teasing and evil.

“You like when I take control?” she asked softly, dragging her nails down my chest, stopping just above my hipbones .

“Fuck yes,” I breathed. I reached up and tugged the robe the rest of the way off her shoulders, letting it fall to the bed with a quiet whoosh .

Her bra was askew, barely hanging on, so I reached around her back and unclasped it with one hand, baring her fully.

Every inch of her was flushed, radiant, glorious.

Her perfect handful-sized tits bounced slightly as she shifted her weight, golden strands stuck to her sweat-slick skin, freckles dusted across the curves of her breasts and shoulders like goddamn constellations. I’d never seen anything more beautiful.

She smirked, and then slowly, torturously, she lowered herself onto me. She sank onto me in one long, slow glide, inch by torturous inch, until her ass was flush against my thighs and my cock was buried to the hilt.

Holy fuck.

My head tipped back, a strangled sound catching in my throat.

She was so tight and warm wrapped around me so effortlessly, it was like she was made for me.

She didn’t give either of us time to adjust, just took me in one smooth, breathless glide.

Her jaw dropped, chest rising in short, shaky breaths as she settled onto my cock.

She rocked her hips once, hard and filthy, and I damn near blacked out.

“You okay down there?” she asked innocently, her voice a rasp.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“Good.” She rolled her hips again. “Die wrecked knowing this rookie just stole pole.”

I grinned up at her like the bastard she always accused me of being. “Enjoy your pole, baby. Ladies should always finish first.”

My nails dug into her thighs as she found a rhythm—slow at first, rolling and sensual.

Her hands braced on my chest, her eyes locked on mine like she was watching every second of me falling apart beneath her.

She tilted her head back, body rocking and mouth open, and her hair dragged across my thighs like silk with every thrust of her hips.

This version of her was pure sin, and it would live rent-free in my brain for the rest of eternity.

“Tu aimes ca?” she whispered breathlessly— You like that? —voice dripping sin. Fuuuuuck, when she spoke French, it was enough to make me weak. “Being fucked by the girl who’s supposed to beat you?”

My groan was a broken, wrecked sound. “Keep talking like that and I’ll flip you over right fucking now.”

“Oh no,” she purred, nails biting into my chest. “Not until I’ve wrung every drop of control from you.”