Quickly noting he wasn't the only one drinking her in, knowing without a shred of doubt that every guy in there—and probably half the women—wanted to drag her into a back room and take her, a swift burst of red-hot jealousy rushed him. Without thinking, he pushed through the crowd to lay claim to her.
As if she'd expected him to do just that, she spun into his arms and wrapped them around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers.
If there was a better feeling than claiming Janica like this, he sure as hell didn't know what it was. Something took him over then, a feeling of deep release. Similar to how he felt when he was pouring himself into her body, but different at the same time. It was the most natural thing in the world to dance with her there in the middle of a biker bar to country songs about drinking too much and sleeping with the wrong guy.
Maybe it was the way her eyes shined as she looked at him.
Or maybe it was just how right it was to be with her, doing anything.
Anything at all.
Song after song they danced, Janica moving in and out of his arms, her hips brushing and swaying against his, her breasts slipping and sliding against his chest, his arms, his hands, until he couldn't take it anymore. Because she was right, dancing and fucking were practically the same thing, only he couldn't take her in a crowded bar in front of a roomful of strangers.
Without a word, he grabbed her hand and pulled her off the dance floor, past the bar, and out to his car. Only taking the time to open his door, he practically threw her across the car onto her seat.
He could scent her as he peeled out of the parking lot, her sweet smell of heat and arousal and pleasure completely obliterating any remnants of the beer and smoke that had surrounded them inside the bar. Neither of them spoke, not even her, and barely a minute later he was pulling off the road onto a dirt track that led to a beach trail. In the thick of the woods, he yanked his keys out of his car, shoved his seat back as far as it would go, and grabbed her out of her seat by her hips, pulling her on top of him.
“You make me crazy,” he said, and then his lips were on hers and he was ripping at the thin straps of her dress, pulling them down past her breasts. She shifted up on him and he sucked one hard, pink nipple into his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue before taking it between his teeth.
She ground herself into him, begging him without words to give her the release they both desperately needed. It didn't matter that he'd made love to her twice that morning.
He needed her again.
Now.
Cupping her breast to his mouth with one hand, he shifted his lips to her nipple, tasting, sucking, devouring. His free hand slipped under the short skirt of her dress to cup her mound, damp and sizzling hot beneath his palm.
“I've got to touch you,” he said against her skin, and then he was sliding one finger into the leg band of her silk panties and sweeping it through the slick moisture that coated her labia.
She thrust down on his fingers and he added one more, then another until she was practically sobbing and holding his head against her breasts. Shifting his hand just slightly, he rubbed his thumb against her clit with every ramming stroke of his fingers inside her heat.
“Luke,” she moaned. “Yes, please, there, oh God.”
She went perfectly still for a split second as the pleasure hit her and then she was moving again, even faster, her pussy drawing on his fingers, her clit slamming against his thumb, her muscles wrapping themselves around him tighter and tighter as she exploded.
But even as she came, he could feel her fingers working on the button at the top of his jeans.
“Next time you come you're not going to be able to do another goddamned thing,” he growled as she pulled open his pants and reached for his cock.
Her eyes opened then, and she looked at him in beautifully unfocused pleasure. “I need to have you in me.”
He had to kiss her, had to take her, had to be with her, inside her, in every possible way. His tongue found hers just as his cock began to slide into her tight, wet canal. She was tighter than she'd ever been, even that first night, and somewhere in the only part of his brain that could still hold thought, he knew he was being way too rough with her, taking her too many times, too fast, too hard.
Fighting for control, he gripped her hips, stopping them with only his head inside her pussy lips.
“We need to go slower, sweetheart.”
“No,” she said, clearly trying to use every bit of strength she possessed to force herself out of his grip and slide down onto his cock.
But he'd made up his mind. For her sake, even though it was probably going to kill him, they had to take their time.
“It'll be even better this way,” he said, working like hell to convince not only her, but himself, as he said it. “One inch at a time.”
To illustrate his point, he moved her body down over him just enough to cover that inch.
A thick rush of moisture immediately coated his cock and she sucked in a breath.
“I love it when you boss me around,” she said in a breathy voice with a sexy little grin.
Through the thick haze of his lust for her, he managed a grin. “And I love it when you obey.”
“Only you,” she whispered in response. “I only want to obey you, Luke.”
He throbbed thick and strong inside of her, his cock only growing bigger and harder and more demanding the more control he tried to exert over it. He had to get in deeper, had to take another inch of her sweet, slick heat. As he shifted her yet again he could feel her opening up around him, her aroused and swollen flesh both giving to him and taking from him in equal measure.
And then she was saying, “Oh my God, I'm going to come again,” in a low, raw voice.
He could hardly believe it, that without anything more than not quite half of his cock inside her, her muscles were tightening down on him, squeezing his sensitive cock head for everything it was worth. Whatever shreds of control he had left were immediately lost as he pulled her mouth down to his and ravaged her with his lips and teeth and tongue. In the next breath his cock was in to the hilt and he was right there with her as she cried out into his mouth, his groans of pleasure indistinguishable from hers.
Chapter Sixteen
The next day they went for a long walk on the beach and Janica filled up his pockets with seashells, exclaiming that each one was “the most beautiful one she'd ever seen.” They bought some clams and mussels out on the pier and had the messiest lunch in memory feeding each other buttery mollusks, which only got messier when Janica stopped eating and instead squirted them at him, shooting them out of their shells like little slippery missiles. His immediate thoughts about the huge mess they were making and what a pain in the ass it was going to be to clean up were quickly overridden by the need to nail her with his own uneaten clams.