Page 85 of Piggy

Then I spin her around, her back thuds on the hood. Her breath’s ragged, lashes clumped together with sweat. Ispread her thighs wide, exposing that gorgeous, messy cunt. My cum drips from her, pooling on the glossy steel.

Perfect.

My dick pulses just looking at it.

I drop to my knees.

Without hesitation, I latch my mouth to her clit and slide two fingers inside her, curling them deep onto that hot, swollen spot.

She jerks, moaning my name, thighs trembling around my head.

“That’s it,” I say, my voice muffled in her cunt. “My sweet little whore. Only mine. Cum for me. Like you deserve.”

Her thighs clamp, locking around my ears, and she convulses. Breath hitching, mouth open, silent for a second... then shattered by a broken, strangled gasp as she hits her peak.

Goddamn,she’s gorgeous when she breaks.

I rise fast, grabbing her and hauling her off the car like she weighs nothing. She throws her arms around my neck, legs wrapped around my waist, clinging to me desperately.

“Don’t leave me now!” she chokes out.

The intensity of her hold. I feel it. Unraveled and vulnerable. Afraid the past will repeat itself.

No fucking way.

“I won’t leave,” I assure. “I mean it, baby. I love you.”

Fuck,I actually said it. Again. Like I’m begging to lose myself. But it’s true. I’m her fucking simp and she doesn’t even know how bad I’ve got it.

Then—

Whoop! Whoop!

Red-blue lights flash against the trees and buildings. Both our heads snap toward the sound.

A patrol car creeps down the road.

“Shit.” My blood turns ice. I unclamp her from my body, yank her dress down, and cinch up my pants so fast I nearly catch skin.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Charlotte gasps. “Grayson—”

“I can’t get caught. Not when I’m on parole.”

Because if I do, this whole life I just got back?

Gone.

Chapter 25

Charlotte

Grayson and I adjust our clothes in a flurry as the patrol car slows behind my red hatchback. Its headlights flood the road like an interrogation lamp, and when the doors open, I flinch at the sharp sound of boots on gravel.

A flashlight beams straight into my face.

“Evening,” says one of them, tall, broad, and shadowed.