The Mechanic - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,27

bulbous pressure of his rock-hard cock touches me, sending an electric current through my spine. He hesitates, touching my stomach, the feral grin tightening his face. Then he lets out a small gasp as he shoves inside, my walls opening for him.

It’s as though we’ve fucked for the first time, even though my body still aches from sex in the shower. At least some of the alcohol fades from my senses, leaving me nothing but him. The heat of his skin touching my legs, his eyes blazing with need for me.

He yanks me as his cock dives deeply, striking some inner core of pleasure that tightens and screams for more. Hard thrusts knock me back, his balls slapping into my pussy. Then he leans over, my shrill gasp cutting the air. I can feel the length of him as though it reaches halfway up my stomach. He folds my thighs against my body, pounding me so fucking hard that a sharp pain mingles with the ecstasy.

It’s the opposite of the controlled sex I used to have with Mark. He liked everything to be clinical. Planned. Towels between our bodies and the sheets. Napkins. Condoms. Lube. All of it lined up in rows.

Gage grabs a fist of my hair and bends my neck back, fucking me ruthlessly. Primal lust stares at me from his eyes, which remind me of a lion’s. He whispers something harsh in my ear—I can’t quite catch it.

“You’re fucking mine.”

Like a beast claiming his prey, he marks me by biting my tits. His hips slam into my pussy. No, this hair-pulling, tit-biting ruthless fucking is nothing like I’ve experienced before. His mouth moves to my other breast, sucking hard. My back arches, thrusting my chest into his face as another brutal thrust jars my body. He tenses and his fist in my hair tightens—and then there’s a loud, deep groan thundering from his chest.

His cock rams me, filling me with liquid warmth. Gage refuses to relieve his hold on me, thrusting his seed deeply inside me. I feel my body welcoming it, taking it in. Damn it if it doesn’t feel amazing to be filled with Gage. His hips gradually stop their thrusting, the aftershocks of his orgasm still running up his thighs. I grab his face, and his eyes slowly center on me. He kisses me, the full weight of him bearing down on me as he thrusts slowly in and out. The tight grip on my hair loosens, and he splays his hand on my skin, cradling me.

I don’t know how long we spend locked in each other’s embrace. Only that my head somehow finds its way to the crook of his neck, and I breathe in the scent of him.

Five

Gage

Sunlight stabs my eyes the moment they flutter open, quickly followed by a dull ache. Jesus. The fucking mother of all headaches. There’s also sourness in my stomach, and my tongue is chapped. Damn it. Hangover.

I attempt to brave the light again, peering through my lashes. There’s Tylenol in my bathroom. I should definitely take some. If I could get up. I’m burdened by something.

My hand closes over the soft skin of a woman’s arm, which is flung over my chest. She’s naked, asleep next to me, her black hair sticking to the side of her face, fluttering with every breath. I gently brush the strands aside, and a jolt of adrenaline hits my chest.

It’s her. The hottie next door.

I fucked Olivia? Nice.

I smirk at her sleeping form, admiring the S-shaped curve of her gorgeous body, her tits smashed against my chest.

Already hard with morning wood, my cock jumps with a twitch of my thighs. I wish I could remember what I did to her. Bits and pieces from last night come back to me like still images from a porno. I slide my arm underneath her, holding her shoulder to pull her close.

What the hell is that on my hand?

There’s a piece of twine wrapped around my ring finger. I touch it, and then suddenly the image of us holding hands at the wedding slams into my head. I remember her sliding it on as the priest…married us.

Oh God.

We got married last night.

I open my mouth, not sure whether to yell “Oh shit” or burst out laughing. It’s absurd. Who the hell gets drunk enough to get married at someone else’s wedding?

When Mom finds out, she’s going to fucking kill me. I’ll be surprised if Jack hasn’t told her already. What kind of man

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