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Throttled: Dirty Air (Book 1)(84)

Author:Lauren Asher

Her body pulses at the mix of pain and pleasure. Skin warms beneath the touch of my other hand. I squeeze her tit, loving the feel of her pebbled nipple beneath my palm.

I want her to know I’m the only one who can fuck her like this, make her feel like this. I want to ruin her for any man who dares to try to come after me.

I fuck her like she’s the last woman on Earth. Because to me, she might as well be.

She does a good job keeping quiet, only letting out a few whimpers here and there. I pull on her hair again in a silent demand to look at me. She blows me away with a view of her brown eyes, hazy from lust, matching flushed cheeks and lips plump from my ravaging. I could come right there at the sight of her.

But I don’t.

Because good guys finish last.

My grip becomes more possessive on her hip as I pump unrelentingly into her. I angle myself to hit her G-spot. Her whole body convulses around me, her reaction pulling a smirk from me.

I stroke her special spot and give it all my attention. My dick slides back and forth like never before, her arousal encouraging me as my thrusts become sloppier, less controlled. It feels like magic when she shatters around my cock. Her heavy breathing fills the silent room, her chest heaving up and down as she stares at me with a lazy smile.

Her orgasm gives me the final push. I thrust into her without holding back, balls slapping against her ass as she takes it all. I groan as I find my release. My toes curl at the feeling of her squeezing me, practically pleading for more. The whole thing seems fucking poetic.

My lips kiss her neck as I pull out of her. I dump the condom in the trash and situate my suit, wishing we had more time.

Maya keeps to the same spot, lying over the side of the couch with her eyes closed. Her back moves to the steady rhythm of her breathing. I grab her clothes from the floor, wanting to help her in whatever way, when she finally speaks.

“I think you’ve ruined me.” Her whispered voice rings through the quiet.

Shit. That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.

29

Maya

I walk into the pit area to wish Santi good luck. Noah fucked my bad mood right out of me, curing me from Santi’s negative words.

“Where did you go?” He looks at me with soft eyes and a weak smile.

“I took a walk. I needed a break from our conversation.”

Can he tell Noah just fucked me? Post-sex afterglow tends to be a thing.

“You look like you’ve been crying. I’m sorry if I upset you. I just want to make sure you’ll be okay and find what you love to do.”

My cheeks heat. Not exactly the crying he’s thinking about. His apology makes my heart squeeze, guilt eating up any leftover lust.

“Mm, yeah. I appreciate it. But I am happy, and everything will be fine. I like following everyone and I’ve made good friends. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

He pulls me in for a hug, our previous conversation abandoned. “You know I love you, right?”

My eyes roll with the least amount of effort because his corny phrase always gets me. I can’t hold an argument against him for more than an hour anyway. “You tell me all the time. I love you too. Now go kick some ass. Preferably Slade’s.”

“Hey! I heard that. You both act like I’m not here.” Noah’s voice booms over the buzz of the pit crew and machines. My body warms in recognition. I’m so screwed with him, both literally and figuratively.

“You’ve won three World Championships already. Save some for the little guys.” Santi’s voice carries over the other noises.

“I’m glad you’re not ashamed of being little. That’s mature of you. You know what they say—it’s not about size but what you do with it that matters.” Noah smirks at my brother.

Santi groans while I bark out a laugh.

“You’re a piece of shit, Slade.” Santi’s words don’t have the same kick. “Speaking of dicks, what the hell was going on in your room? Changing up your pre-race routine? It’s usually silent but your couch kept hitting the wall, in a rhythm I might add.” Santi’s knowing smile says it all. My throat closes tight, my brain jumping to the worst kind of conclusions. I let out a breath when I find Santi not looking at me.

Noah returns a wicked smile and shrugs. “Sorry about that. I’ll be more quiet next time.”

If the world could swallow me up whole, now would be the perfect time.

But it doesn’t.

“Maybe I need to follow the same ritual. I wonder if that’s how you win so much.” My brother, the idiot, smiles at Noah.

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