~~PEYTON~~
Every inch of him is buried inside my walls, stretching me in and out. The force of it scrapes my back against the leather seat. Each thrust, slow and delicious, builds tension inside the deepest part of me. I hook my legs around his back, sensing more warmth, more friction, more proximity.
A rush of heat pulsates through me. It's like I sense him in every part of me, not just inside my hole that feels like it's been set on fire—my n*****s are hard, pointy, and arching with more friction, something wet and warm, precisely. My brain is foggy; even when my eyes open, I don't care what I see around me. Everything else is blurry—the car's ceiling, the window right opposite me, even the other seat is insignificant. It's just him. Only him. That matters. And not just his face, his
