Page 34 of Goose

Ally

The pale blue glow from a distant streetlight filtered through the windshield. I lowered my bare ass against his legs. Smashed into the passenger seat, he struggled to get comfortable. With each movement he made, his stiff cock teetered back and forth, banging against the inside of my thighs.

I ached to feel him inside of me.

He exhaled a forced breath. “Do these seats recline?”

I pried myself away from the dash. “There’s a lever on the right. Lift it up.”

The seat shot back with a snap, taking him—and me—with it.

Giggling, I sat up. “That’d be the one.”

He pushed his hand against the center of my back, forcing my chest against the dash. “These little pieces of German shit weren’t made for fucking in, where they?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never—”

The tip of his cock grazed my clit. My body tensed. The pressure against my folds became intense. I was soaking wet, but it didn’t seem to be helping matters.

I clenched my teeth. “Maybe we should—”

His girth sank into me slowly, taking my words—and my breath—away completely.

I slapped my hands against the windshield.

Dear fucking God.

I had no expectations that dinner in a fancy French restaurant or a bouquet of flowers would precede my first sexual romp with Goose. Ultimately, I wanted his dick, his heart, and his trust. He’d impaled me with the first part of that equation. The second would come naturally. The third, with time.

I braced myself and drew a deep breath.

He gripped my waist and lifted my weight from him, slightly. His hips—and his cock—withdrew.

“Jesus,” I breathed. “It felt like you shoved a—”

He slammed himself into me fully.

Fuck.

“Fuck!” I howled. “Easy, I’m not—”

He did it again.

I pressed my hands against the dash and flexed my biceps. Hoping to prevent him from using me as a platform for his jackhammer-like antics, I forced myself against him.

It was an exercise in futility. My strength was no match for him.

He continued to pound away, filling me with every inch of his thick cock each time his hips slapped against my ass with a clap.

If my childhood taught me nothing else, I learned to embrace the unthinkable. So, that’s exactly what I did. I closed my eyes, became limp against his strength, and allowed him to use me at his will.

He did just that.

Frantically, he tore at my dress. “This. Motherfucker’s. Got. To. Go.”

Seconds later, the flowered garment landed in a pile beside me. My bra followed.

I was stark naked in my car at 6:15. Thankful that it was winter—and dark—but aggravated that I hadn’t spent the money to tint my windows, I glanced toward the diner.