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Our lips meld in sensual, emotional force, and I hold her against my body while we dive deeper. My tongue slides against hers, warmth blazing me from inside out. She clenches her thighs around my waist, her fingers curling strands of my hair. We’re tethered by something unexplainable, and I can’t let go.
“I want you back.” Light explodes inside my chest. Fucking disorienting me, and with no doubt, I say, “You have me.”
Stripped naked, my erection is swollen, veins protruding and aching in primal need for Jane. I slide two fingers against her pussy—God, she’s soaked. And she writhes and whimpers, “Please, now. Now.”
“Thatcher,” Jane cries. “Thatcher, harder. Harder, please.” Sweat glistens our skin, and I rock at a rougher, deeper pace that pushes me to a sensitive spot in her body. Holy. Fuck. I grip the door handle, then her thigh, keeping her leg higher on my waist. “Jane,” I grunt. “Fuckfuck.” Her mouth is broken open in overflowing arousal, and her soft, aching noises prick my veins and twitch my cock inside her. “Yes,” she moans. “Yesyesyes.” Tears crease her eyes.
I’m deep in the woman I love. My cock filling her pussy to the brim, and my abs contract with another push in. “I could fuck you all night.” “Yes.” She clutches tighter. “Fuck me all night.” Your wish is my command, honey. My nerves pinch like something unholy, and she bucks her hips, her thighs spasm, back arching.
“You did what you felt,” I remind her. “You don’t have to be sorry for that, not with me.” She opens her mouth to reply, but my erection knows her well and finds that sensitive spot again. Her lips split apart and eyes roll back. Body quivering, and my muscles tighten, about to release.
Cum-filled condoms litter the area beneath the seats. I fucked Jane until her intense orgasms forced her asleep, and upon her request, I stayed inside of her for an extended time, while she slept. It was…unlike anything.
She’s always been the best sex I’ve ever had, but in Scotland, the intimacy is on another level. We’re surviving together, withstanding the cold, and those notions were like pulsing heartbeats fastening us at the fucking soul.
I cup her pussy, protectively, and her smile dimples her rosy cheeks. She breathes, “I love you there, very…very much.” Her eyes soften. “I love you other places too.” “Where?” Jane rests her elbow on my muscular side, sitting up some. She takes my other hand, and our breaths shallow as she places my palm on the top of her soft breast. To her heart. I inhale deeply. “You trust me here?” “Yes,” she says without pause.
she smiles at the inked writing across my ass cheek—she’s already traced the letters a thousand times in bed. Her big blue eyes are poised on me. “You’re my Cinderella, you realize.” “I know.” My mouth curves upward. “I’m happy to be.” I’m living the fairytale.
“Mr. Moretti—Thatcher.” She blushes more. “Jane.” She tilts her chin. “Would you be so kind to spread my legs and fill me?” I harden, and my blood cranks to a swelter. “Anything you want, honey.”
I thrust with a deep, annihilating pace. Jane watches my cock sliding in and out of her pussy. “ThatcherThatcherThatcher,” she cries, fingers gripping my shoulder. “Yesyes, oh God.” “Fuck,” I groan between clenched teeth, my muscles flaming in primal hunger. She’s gone, just completely engulfed by our passion, and I love her—I love her.
I pound into her pulsating heat, and she chokes on a gasp, then a sharp sound that rattles my core. “You okay?” I breathe. She nods. “Don’t…stop.”
Jane rakes her nails down my back. “Jane,” I groan, fucking her harder. Her spine arches, and I have her in my arms. I’m not letting go, and we climb towards a soul-fucking climax that shakes her whole body. I tighten up, muscles flexed, and I come with a heavy grunt. Fuuucking… I start to milk the unbelievable feeling, pumping slowly inside her swollen pussy—but
“Jane?! Thatcher?!” Maximoff’s voice is unmistakable. “Moffy!” Jane shouts. “We’re here!” Not locals, then. Surprise barely touches me. Because Maximoff Hale searching for a lost family member is in his nature the same way Jane hanging outside a window to tie a scarf to the car—in a fucking blizzard—is in hers.
“Sorry I didn’t come home, old chap—” Maximoff rushes to his best friend and wraps her up in his arms. Picking her off the ground in a hug and saving her feet from the cold. “You’re okay?” “I’m okay.” She clings tighter to him. Farrow comes to my side, and we both watch the people we love embrace.
“I never want to see him like that again,” Farrow tells me, his voice low. My chest tightens. “That bad?” “Man, you have no idea.” His brown eyes almost glass, carrying the hours where he watched Maximoff fear the death of his best friend. I think of the car crash last May. “I have some idea.” I watched Jane face the possibility that Maximoff was dead on-site.
“Where’s your earpiece?” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t know, Mom, where’s yours?” “In my ear,” I snap.
“You should worry more about Tony seeing the condom graveyard—and I’m going to be honest here: it’s not that you look like the aftermath of a hetero porn. You smell like one.”
“I meant Oscar, Donnelly, Quinn…Akara,” Farrow tells me. “Omega.” I freeze, hand on my mic cord, then surprise leaves me in a breeze. “For Jane,” I realize. Farrow nods. “And you.” It slams me back. Almost hard to believe. Hard to accept. “You’re bullshitting me.” He laughs. “Fuck, I’d come up with better bullshit.”
