Page 25

I climb back onto his lap, reach down to unbutton my own jeans. He helps me, his hands shaking slightly as we work them down my hips along with my underwear. It's awkward in the cramped backseat, a tangle of limbs and fabric, but we manage. My jeans and underwear end up in a heap on the floor.

And then I'm straddling him again, completely bare from the waist down, and his cock is right there. Hard, thick and pressing against my entrance.

"Daisy…" He sounds wrecked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I don't think about condoms. Don't think about consequences or the fact that I'm on birth control specifically because I can't afford another surprise pregnancy. Don't think about anything except how badly I need this. Need him.

I position him at my entrance and sink down slowly.

Oh God.

He's so big. Stretches me in a way I haven't felt in six years, fills me so completely I can barely breathe. I freeze halfway down, adjusting, and he grips my hips hard enough to bruise.

"Fuck," he breathes. "So fucking perfect."

I sink down the rest of the way, taking all of him, and we both groan. He's so deep I can feel him everywhere. I sit there for a moment, just breathing, letting my body adjust to him.

"Move," he says, voice strained. "Please, baby, move."

I do.

I lift up slowly, feeling every inch of him drag against my walls, then sink back down. I do it again, finding a rhythm, and he helps. Hands on my hips, guiding me, lifting me up and pulling me back down.

"That's it," he groans. "Fuck, you feel so good."

I ride him harder, faster, chasing the pleasure building in my core. His mouth finds my breast again, sucking and biting, and I cry out. The car is filled with the sounds of us—wet skin slapping, my moans, his groans, the creak of the seat beneath us.

I bounce on his cock, the car rocking with the force of it. My breasts are bouncing too, and he watches them like he's mesmerized. The windows are completely fogged now, and somewhere in the back of my mind I register that we're lucky no one has walked past. That anyone could see the car shaking, could hear the sounds we're making.

I don't care.

I've never fucked in a car before. Never been this reckless, this wild. But with Razor beneath me, groaning my name, telling me how perfect I am, I don't want to stop.

"Turn around," he growls suddenly. "On your hands and knees."

I lift off him, whimpering at the loss, and maneuver myself in the cramped space. It's awkward and complicated. My knees on the seat, hands braced against the door, ass in the air. But then he's behind me, one hand gripping my hip, the other guiding his cock back to my entrance.

He slams in hard, and I cry out.

"Fuck," he groans. "This pussy so fucking wet!”

He fucks me hard and fast, the car shaking violently now with each thrust. I can hear the suspension creaking, can feel the whole vehicle rocking, and it's so dirty, wrong and absolutely incredible.

"Razor! Oh God, yes!"

He reaches around to grab my breast, squeezing roughly, and the combination of sensations pushes me closer to the edge. I'm moaning with every thrust, completely shameless, and he's grunting behind me like an animal.

"Gonna come," he grits out. "Gonna fill this pussy up!"

"Yes, please!"

He slams in one more time and holds there, and I feel him pulse inside me as he comes. The warmth of it, the feeling of being filled, triggers my own orgasm. I cry out, my pussy clenching around him, milking every last drop.

We stay like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard. Finally, he pulls out slowly, and I feel his cum start to leak down my thigh. He helps me turn around and pulls me onto his lap, cradling me against his chest.

"Holy shit," I whisper.