How did he want her? Had he actually put thought into this? Had he had a plan? She wanted to ask that and more but doing so would involve too many words, ones she wasn’t willing to say right now.
No more words were needed.
The cotton of his T-shirt skimmed over the puckered peaks of her nipples as he pinned her more securely against the shed.
He was taller than her, so she wasn’t sure how this would work. She’d never had sex standing up.
Wasn’t how I wanted you, Chelle.
No, it wasn’t ideal, but this was how he was getting her. It would have to be enough. For both of them.
She opened her mouth to ask him how they were going to manage but her words became trapped when he crushed his lips against hers. Her question was answered when his hands gripped the backs of her thighs right below her ass cheeks and he hauled her up, holding her against the metal siding with his chest.
He ripped his mouth from hers. “Guide me.”
Because his hands were full of her weight, she wedged her own between them and found his cock again.
He groaned, pressed his forehead to hers and shifted his hips, giving her the room to slide the thick crown between her slick folds until she found the spot. She expected him to thrust quickly and deeply, but like everything else he did, he took his damn time.
With one hand under his hair and wrapped around his neck, she used the other to hold onto his shoulder as he entered her inch by measured inch.
The urge to ride him with wild abandonment surged through her, but she remained still, enjoying that delicious stretch as he filled her.
When he finally hit the end of her, he paused.
She thought he was going to say something, so she waited, but he must have thought better of it. Instead, he adjusted his grip, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs. That little bit of discomfort was worth the whole bunch of pleasure when he began to move.
Her breath hissed out of her as he held her close, flexed his knees and drove himself up and into her over and over. The jingle of his belt buckle hitting the chain from his wallet joined his breath pumping from his lungs with each steady thrust.
Deliberate and unhurried. Just like everything else he did.
While slow and steady could be great, right now it wasn’t what she needed or wanted.
Her nails drilled into the flesh at the back of his neck. “Fuck me.”
Her demand caused his body to hiccup against her and he paused. Pulling his head back, he stared into her face. His was unreadable due to the dark shadows hiding his eyes. “Want it to last.”
While she appreciated that—and would love that, too—it wasn’t feasible. Not while having sex against a shed in her backyard where anyone could discover them.
“It doesn’t need to last, it only needs to be good.”
She might not be able to read his eyes, but even in the dark she could see his crooked grin.
She returned it. “I prefer to be quick than caught, to be honest.”
“Always good to be honest,” he grumbled.
Her hand dropped from his neck to the small of his back, then slipped under his boxer briefs to grab a handful of his ass.
That was better.
She gave the muscular round cheek a squeeze. “So...”
“Know you like words, now ain’t the time for them.”
Well, then.
But he was right. The time to talk had passed, now was time to act. Talking could come later.
Except she had one more thing to say... “Fuck me.”
With a little shake of his head, he got back to business. Each drive upward deeper and quicker than the last, until there was nowhere left for him to go, though it seemed as though he was trying to drill right through her.
As she clung tightly to him, she threw her head back, her skull hitting the thin metal sheeting and making an awful noise.
She didn’t care.
She only cared about what he was doing.
And what he was doing was pushing her right to the edge.
Oh my God, yes.
He better not stop. He couldn’t stop. Not now. He needed to keep going. She was almost there.
She’d never come this quickly. It couldn’t be possible, could it?
Even in this unorthodox position in an unorthodox place?
His lips skimmed down her arched throat and he sucked at the hollow of her neck. His hot breath swept over her skin in ragged pants as he used his legs to power up and into her.
His hips hinged, his breathing huffed.
She was losing her damn mind.
He was stealing her cognizance. Making it impossible for her to think straight. To remember where they were.
She focused solely on the man who held her. The man burying himself deep inside her. The man about to make her come.
“Shawn,” came out on a gasp. “I...”
His hips pistoned faster, knowing just what she needed. She encouraged his quicker pace with the grip on his ass.
He couldn’t go any deeper but, for some reason, he wasn’t deep enough. It was like she wanted to absorb him. Instead of two separate pieces, for them to become one.
Impossible.
Wasn’t it?
“I’m coming,” spilled from her.
He covered her mouth with his to swallow her cry as she surrendered to her orgasm. She squeezed her eyes shut as she shattered around him.
He didn’t stop, not even the slightest pause, but now drove relentlessly into her, at an almost frantic pace, the shed’s metal siding bending and creaking, making way too much noise with the intense pounding.
Just when she thought the orgasm was over, another one swept through her, surprising her.
Once he rode that out with her, he tensed, broke the kiss and shoved his face into her neck. With a long, low grunt against her damp skin, he tilted his hips one more time, driving deep, where he remained as he came, the root of his cock pulsing. Her name whispered along her skin, causing goosebumps. His warm breath did the same.
Neither moved, both frozen in time.
Aware they needed to separate. Neither wanting to do so.
Neither wanting to break that connection.
That base need to remain whole.
Whole.
Again, a weird and unexpected thought.
But it was true, she didn’t realize how empty she’d been.
Until now.
Until Shawn.
Even though that couldn’t be right. They didn’t fit. Their lifestyles were completely different. Mismatched.
A sigh rushed from her, like releasing the air from a balloon, when he finally moved. Finally broke that connection.
The sense of loss rushing through her was startling.
He lowered her enough so her feet touched the ground and she could stand on her own, even though her legs felt like rubber.
He gripped her hips and brushed his lips over hers briefly. Then he stepped back, removed the condom and knotted it. She’d need to bury it deep within the trash so the girls wouldn’t spot it.
Undeniable evidence of what their mother did behind the shed with a man she’d only known a few days.
He yanked up his underwear and jeans, tucking in his T-shirt and cinching up his belt. He bent over and picked up her leggings and panties, holding them out in front of her.
Her fingers curled around her clothes but he didn’t let go. Not at first. With a gentle tug from her, he finally released them and she balled them against her chest. She jerked her head toward the bucket she used for weeding that sat on the ground next to the shed. “Just throw the condom in that bucket and I’ll get rid of it.” When there was no chance of the girls seeing her do so.