Page 54 of My All American Girl

I laughed and found the box of condoms, offering it to him. He snatched one from the box and ripped it open with his teeth like a fucking animal. I watched him roll it down his full length, practically salivating.

“If I was a good man, I’d get you off first. But I’m not and you don’t get relief until I do.”

“Are you going to keep talking or are we going to do something about this?” I retorted.

Suddenly, he lifted me and positioned himself at my entrance. He looked into my eyes with such intensity that I felt my breath catch in my throat.

“Are you sure, Sarah?” His voice was hushed now, serious and full of something that could only be described as respect for this moment, for the line we were about to cross—a line that had been blurred and redrawn too many times.

“Yes,” I breathed out, my heart pounding against my rib cage like a wild drum. “Dean, I’m sure.”

With that affirmation, he pushed into me slowly, taking his time until he was fully seated within me. The stretch was unfamiliar yet satisfying, causing me to gasp and arch my back in response.

A groan tore from his throat and his grip on my hips tightened further. “God, Sarah.”

He leaned his forehead against mine as he began to move, setting a pace that was exquisite torture. He pushed me back until only the head of him was inside me, then slammed back in. I let out a cry of pleasure, my nails digging into his broad shoulders.

“Holy fuck,” he grunted, looking at me through hooded eyes. “You feel amazing.”

My body was on fire. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through me. I rocked against him, digging my knees into his leather seat as I tried to get closer. My world narrowed down to this man, to the rhythm of our bodies moving together in the confined space of his truck, the scent of our mingling sweat and desire filling the air. The sound of our breathing and the soft slap of body against body was the only music I wanted to hear.

His fingers dug even deeper into my ass. Each thrust of his hips met mine in a wonderful rhythm. His breath hitched every time he plunged into me, his lips going to my exposed neck, marking me as his own.

“I can’t hold back much longer,” he growled lowly, his voice shaky. His hand found mine and our fingers intertwined, anchoring us to each other amidst a sea of escalating pleasure. I rocked back and forth, driving my hips forward and taking him deeper.

“Then don’t,” I whispered, my voice tight. His eyes locked on mine, filled with a primal kind of desire that took my breath away.

His pace quickened, pressing our bodies together until there was no space left between us. His lips crashed against mine. He swallowed the whimper that escaped me as he hit a spot deep within.

His fingers tightened, his grip almost painful in its intensity. He ripped his mouth away to let out a low growl as he buried himself deeper still, reaching an apex that sent tremors through his entire body. A heat surged through me as I felt him release, a wave of satisfaction crashing over me as my body convulsed around him in response, pulling him deeper into the throes of my pleasure.

“Sarah,” he moaned, his voice hoarse and strained. Each word was punctuated by a shivering breath, his fingers digging into my back as if clinging onto reality.

I dropped forward, my head resting on his shoulder. I didn’t want to move.

I wanted the moment to last forever.