Page 84 of Pucking Strong (Jacksonville Rays #4)

“I do,” I cry, turning back to face the windshield. “Fuck, baby, I do. God, anything. I’m yours.” I’m a mumbling mess as he finally undoes his belt. He’s still in his game-day suit, just without the jacket and tie, shirtsleeves rolled up.

“Do I need to stretch you out first?”

I would answer him, but he’s got his hard dick in his hand, tapping it against my ass cheek, so my brain is putting all its effort into standing right now.

“I have lube,” he goes on.

I blink, glancing over my shoulder. “Wait, seriously?”

He fishes a little packet of lube from his pocket, holding it up.

I smile, feeling all warm and floaty. “Well, aren’t you Mr. Prepared? Eagerly anticipating a beachside fuck, are we?”

He just shrugs. “The guys put a hundred pack of these in my locker as a joke shortly after our wedding.”

“Look who’s laughing now.” My mirth settles as I sense the barest hint of his unease. He’s still pretty new at this. “You won’t hurt me,” I assure him. “I trust you. Make me feel so good, like only you can.”

Turning around, I’m content to watch our shadowy reflections in the windshield.

I hear the soft crick as Henrik opens the lube packet, then I’m gasping at the feel of his slick fingers pressing in at my asshole.

Huffing out a breath, I let myself sink into a cozy little sub space.

Henrik is in control now. He’ll take such good care of me.

He presses in with two fingers, stretching me open. “You’re so tight, mitt hj?rta.”

The burn of that first stretch has my dick twitching. I moan, rocking back against his hand. “You’ll fit. Please, baby, give me your cock. God, I need it.”

His fingers slip out as he mutters a soft curse in Swedish. Then he’s fisting his thick shaft, letting it glide slick and heavy between my cheeks. We both groan as his tip breaches my tight outer ring of muscle.

“Slow,” I say on a breath.

He holds my hips tight enough to bruise as he rocks against me, stretching me with each thrust. Every inch of him I take has me feeling more anxious and breathless.

I need to come. That’s what this is. The anticipation is killing me.

I need him to unleash himself on me—use me, fill me, tear me apart.

“I can’t,” he pants.

I hold still, trying to search his face in our reflection. “What is it? Talk to me.”

“Can’t bear it,” he grits out. “Need to come.”

I smile, triumphant. “Baby, look at me.”

He grunts, looking down at where we’re joined. “God, help me.”

“Look at me ,” I press. “In the windshield. Look at my reflection.”

He glances up, seeing the shadows of us reflected by the moon and stars above. His hands on my hips soften their crushing hold.

“There you are,” I say with a smile. “Just breathe for a sec. Keep looking at me and breathe.”

Slowly, he begins to thrust again. I can hardly bear the pleasure of being filled so full. I brace against the hood of the Porsche with both hands as he sinks all the way. Tension coils in my gut as my own urge to come presses in on me.

“You’re in control,” I pant, moving my hips against him. “No one comes until you say. Just take me. Take your pleasure from me. God, take anything.”

With a desperate groan, Henrik wraps his hands around me, bracing against my chest. I feel his warm breath at my ear as he pants. “You feel so good, min k?rlek. I can’t bear it.”

I tip my head back, exposing my neck to his lips as he fucks me in earnest. Our hips slap together as he claims me over and over.

Deeper. Harder. His hand grips tightly to my shoulder, then he’s rocking back on a shout.

Oh god, he’s fucking pounding me, and I can’t get enough. His energy is so chaotic and beautiful.

Speaking of chaos, I feel like a lit fuse, seconds away from detonation. The spark is sizzling closer and closer to the pile of TNT that is my waiting orgasm. My fingers are tingling, balls twitching. He’s not even touching my dick yet. When he does, it’s all over. “Henrik!”

His hand shifts from my shoulder to around my neck. Then he’s pulling me back, the pressure at my neck firm. My hands wrap around to reach any part of him I can. I pull on his shirt, his hair, seeking any purchase.

“Touch yourself,” he commands. “Pinch your nipples.”

“Oh fuck.” Breathless and trembling, I brush my hands down my chest, rubbing my thumbs over the fabric of my shirt. My nipples are peaked beneath the fabric.

Then his hand is gone from my neck, and he’s clawing my shirt up my torso and off, tugging it over my head. I feel like I’m free-falling, arms in the air, pinned by the calves to the Porsche as he keeps his dick buried inside me. He tosses the shirt into the dirt and pulls out of me.

Gasping for air, I fall forward, catching myself with my hands on the hood. My pants are wrapped around my knees, keeping me trapped.

“Off,” he commands. “Take them off.”

I’m dizzy with lust. God, he’s fucked the sense right out of me. “My pants? You want me buck naked where any passing pelican can see me?”

“I want you spread wider,” he growls in my ear. “I want to get deeper.”

Swallowing an eager whimper, I kick off my left shoe, tugging my knee up until it comes free of my pant leg.

Then Henrik grabs my thigh and spreads me wider, bending me forward back over the hood of his goddamn Porsche.

My left knee balances on the sleek surface, fingers of both hands splayed.

I cry out as Henrik buries himself to the hilt inside me. “Fuck, fuck—”

He begins to thrust again, his hands on my hips jerking me back and back.

He sinks deeper and we both moan. The glide of his cock against my prostate has me squirming.

Forget the box of TNT. Forget Icarus shooting towards the sun.

I’m a fucking meteor. There’s no stopping this.

I told Henrik he was in control, but nothing will stop me coming now.

“Henrik—” I chant his name, my own prayer.

His hand snakes around my hip, and he finally takes my dick in hand, stroking it from root to tip. “Come for me, mitt hj?rta. Fill my hand.”

His permission unleashes me. Clenching tight on the dick in my ass, I roll with my hips, thrusting my hard shaft into his lubed fist, once, twice.

My orgasm overtakes me, and I’m coming on a garbled shout.

My warm release fills his hand as he strokes me hard, making a sticky mess all over my shaft that drips down from my balls onto the hood of the car.

Taking his cum-soaked hand, Henrik roughly grabs my chin, twisting his hold on me to sink two fingers into my mouth. “Suck.”

Groaning, I lick and suck my jizz from his fingers, crying out when he finally unleashes inside me. His hot cum fills me and he rocks against my ass, keeping himself buried deep, slowly thrusting as he rides out the last cresting wave of his orgasm.

My jaw hurts, my arms are shaking, and my asshole has its own heartbeat from the pounding it just took.

But I feel so happy, and so incredibly full.

Henrik’s dick slips out of me, his cum leaking down my thighs.

He pulls me to him, turning me around to wrap me in a hug.

I cling to him, my face pressed to his shoulder.

I don’t care that I’m naked with only one shoe, my pants twisted around my ankle.

I’m Henrik’s. Claimed, body and soul. Nothing else matters.

I pull away just long enough to kiss him. “I love you,” I whisper against his lips. “Henrik, baby, I love you so much.”

He smiles down at me, his hands moving all over me, soothing every ache and pain. He cups my cheek, and I know this is the moment. He’s finally going to say it, my man of few words. But these are words we both need. God, how I’ve waited for them. “Teddy, I—”

He goes tense. Then he curses in Swedish, spinning me around to block me with his body. I see the bright headlights before I hear the crunching of the gravel under tires. “Oh, fuck!”

“Stay behind me,” he shouts, tucking his dick back in his pants.

“Babe—I only have one shoe!” And my pants are inside out at my ankle. And I have no shirt. But I’ll be fucked if I let whoever’s in that car get a shot of me hopping around on one foot with my dick flapping in the wind, trying to get my pants to go outside in.

A big SUV rolls to a stop at the mouth of the parking lot, blasting rock music, headlights shining.

I feel like an idiot hiding behind Henrik, both my hands on his shoulders.

He stands before me, shirt ripped open, pants unbuttoned.

At least his dick is tucked away. He lifts a hand, guarding his eyes from the sharp glare.

He’s so tense, ready to slay this steel dragon for me.

The music cuts, and the passenger door opens. Someone pops out the side, standing on the rails. A wolf-whistle cuts over the sound of the roaring engine. “Hey, Karlsson! Hey, Ted! Having fun there, fellas?”

I relax, stifling a laugh. It’s Chris Woodson, Henrik’s teammate.

“Fuck, Woody,” Henrik shouts. “Cut the goddamn headlights.”

“Nah, we’ll head back out,” he calls back with a wave. “Leave you two lovebirds at it. Jake just wanted to make sure you weren’t out here burying bodies or some shit.”

“Wait, we ?” I shout. “Who the hell is we?”

“Paulie’s driving,” he calls back as Paulie taps the horn. “And we brought Flash, Bouche, and DeGraw just in case.”

Someone waves out the other window. “Hey, Ted!”

Yep, I think that’s Hunter.

Fucking perfect.

“How did you even know where to find us?” Henrik shouts.

“Phone GPS,” Woody calls back. “Jake has us all linked, remember? You two have fun!”

“Don’t get caught,” one of the guys yells from the back seat. “You know … again!”

Woody slips back into the SUV, and the rock music blasts up again. Paulie whips them around in a tight circle. Then they shoot back out onto the beach highway in a crunch of gravel, leaving Henrik and I standing here breathless, mostly naked, and covered in cum.

I give Henrik’s shoulder a squeeze. “Any chance of them ever letting us live this down?”

Henrik shakes his head. “No. Never.”

It only takes a moment before we’re both cracking up, laughing so hard we cry, as we find the rest of my discarded clothes, stumble back into the Porsche, and race away from the scene of our first crime.