Chapter 6: Claimed and Collared
The truck’s cab felt like a pressure cooker about to blow. Jace’s demand hung between them, thick and suffocating. Lie to me. I fucking dare you. Vera’s quiet retort – You first – wasn’t denial. It was a gauntlet thrown.
A muscle feathered violently in Jace’s clenched jaw. The raw hunger warring with panic in his hazel eyes surged, flooding the space with pure, predatory heat. That single breath stretched, taut as a tripwire.
Then he snapped.
With a guttural sound – half growl, half curse – he released his death grip on her hoodie only to fist both hands in the thick fabric near her shoulders. He didn’t push her back. He yanked her bodily towards him, dragging her halfway across the console, ignoring the seatbelt biting into her waist. She gasped as her knees slammed into hard plastic, scrambling for purchase.
"Fuck talking," he rasped, his voice rough sandpaper. His gaze raked over her face, lingering on her parted lips, dark with intent. "Actions, princess. Show me what the fuck you want."
His mouth crashed down on hers. Not a kiss, but a claiming. Hard, demanding, bruising. Lips mashed against teeth, tongue thrusting past her startled gasp to taste her, deep and possessive. The stale nicotine, the lingering weed, the sheer heat of him overwhelmed her senses. He tasted of fury and desperation and a need so potent it burned. One massive hand slid from her shoulder to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling brutally in the roots of her long black hair, tilting her head back to take the assault deeper. The other hand dropped, fumbling blindly for the seatbelt release.
The click echoed like a gunshot. Released from the restraint, Vera pitched forward against him. Jace hauled her the rest of the way over the console, ignoring her awkward sprawl, her borrowed sweatpants rucking up. She landed half on his lap, half on the driver's seat, the gearshift digging painfully into her hip. The steering wheel pressed into her back. The truck’s engine still idled, a low, constant growl beneath the ragged sounds of their breathing.
He broke the kiss, panting, his eyes wild. His gaze dropped to the oversized hoodie swallowing her frame. With a harsh tug, he pulled the zipper down, the sound loud in the confined space. Underneath, she wore nothing but her own skin, pale and cool-toned in the grey dashboard light. He shoved the hoodie roughly off her shoulders, trapping her arms momentarily. The sudden exposure made her shiver, her small breasts taut, nipples pebbling instantly in the charged air.
"Fuck," he breathed, staring at the intricate spiderweb tattoos adorning the sides of her underbust, the delicate stars trailing down her v-line towards the waistband of his sweatpants. His big, ink-scrawled hand covered one breast, squeezing roughly. Calloused fingers pinched her nipple, hard enough to make her cry out, a sharp sound swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her again, messily, biting her lower lip. His other hand went straight for the tie on the borrowed sweatpants.
He yanked the knot loose. His hand dove inside, fingers skimming over the curve of her hip, the jut of her pelvic bone, sliding through sparse curls. She was wet. Soaking wet. The evidence of her treacherous body’s response to his aggression slicked his fingers instantly.
"No panties," he grunted against her mouth, a dark thrill in his voice. "Fucking perfect." His fingers found her clit, rubbing hard, fast circles that sent electric jolts straight to her core. She arched against the steering wheel, a moan ripped from her throat. He swallowed it, his tongue mimicking the relentless pressure below.
He didn’t linger. His fingers delved lower, two thick digits plunging into her tight heat without warning. She gasped, clenching around the sudden intrusion, her inner muscles fluttering wildly.
"Christ, you're tight," he groaned, his voice thick. "Still fucking sore from last night? Or just hungry for it again?" He worked his fingers in and out ruthlessly, the lewd, wet sound loud in the cab. He curled them, hitting a spot deep inside that made her vision blur, her hips bucking reflexively against his hand. "That's it. Squeeze my fingers, baby. Show me how bad you need cock."
He withdrew his fingers, glistening. Before she could protest the loss, he was shoving the sweatpants down her thighs, past her knees. The cool air hit her exposed skin, but the heat radiating from Jace burned hotter. He manhandled her again, turning her roughly in the cramped space. Her cheek pressed against the cold glass of the driver’s window, her back arched, ass presented to him over the console. The console edge dug into her stomach. Behind her, she heard the frantic rustle of his jeans, the harsh rasp of a zipper.
Then she felt him. The blunt, scorching-hot head of his cock pressed against her slick entrance. Massive. Unyielding. Thick veins pulsed against her sensitive flesh. He didn't ask. Didn't tease. He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise her pale vanilla skin, his thumbs digging into the dimples above her ass.
He drove forward. One brutal, powerful thrust that buried him to the hilt in one stroke.
Vera screamed. A raw, guttural sound muffled by the window glass. The stretch was immense, burning, stealing her breath. He was impossibly deep, his thick cock filling her, stretching her tender cunt walls wide open. She felt split apart, impaled. The memory of the cabana, the frantic intensity of their first time, was nothing compared to this deliberate, overwhelming possession.
"Fuck! Jesus, Vera," Jace choked out, his voice strained, thick with lust. He paused for a heartbeat, buried deep, his hips pressed flush against her ass. She could feel the tension coiling in his massive frame, the harsh gust of his breath against the back of her neck. "Tighter than fucking sin. You take it so goddamn good."
Then he moved. Pulling back almost entirely, leaving just the swollen head stretching her, before slamming home again with devastating force. Her body jolted forward, breasts crushed against the window. Skin slapped skin. The wet, obscene sound of him fucking into her tightness filled the cab, louder than the idling engine.
He set a relentless, punishing rhythm. No finesse. Just pure, animalistic drive. Deep, hard thrusts that hammered into her very core, each one punching a gasp or a choked cry from her lips. His grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging deeper, holding her immobile as he used her body for his own brutal satisfaction. The console edge ground into her stomach with every forward surge. His sweatpants tangled around her knees restricted her movement, making her feel utterly helpless, pinned.
One hand left her hip. He grabbed a fistful of her long, wavy black hair, near the roots, and yanked. Her head snapped back, arching her spine, forcing her ass higher, changing the angle. The stars tattooed on her v-line stretched taut. He plunged even deeper, the new angle making her see white spots.
"Look at you," he growled, his voice a harsh rasp against her ear. His hips pistoned relentlessly. His free hand came down hard on her right ass cheek. A sharp, stinging spank that echoed in the cab. The pale skin bloomed instantly red. "Taking my fucking cock like you were made for it." Another hard spank landed on the other cheek. "This perfect little ass bouncing on me." Spank. "This tight fucking cunt milking me." Spank.
Each blow sent jolts of pain and intense pleasure radiating through her. She writhed, not to escape, but to take him deeper, the sting amplifying the overwhelming fullness, the raw friction. Her moans were constant now, ragged and desperate, punctuated by his grunts and the wet slap of flesh. Her inner muscles clenched and fluttered wildly around his thick shaft, trying to grip him, pull him deeper still.
He leaned over her, his broad, tattooed chest pressing against her arched back, trapping her between him and the steering wheel. His mouth found the sensitive skin of her neck, teeth grazing, biting down hard enough to mark. The intricate ink of his arms flexed with the effort of holding her and fucking her simultaneously.
"Gonna fill you up, princess," he snarled against her skin, his thrusts becoming even harder, faster, losing any semblance of rhythm, just pure, driving need. His cock swelled impossibly thicker inside her, pulsing. "Gonna pump my fucking cum so deep inside you..." Spank. "...knock you up so fucking good..." Spank. "...everyone'll know you're mine." The final spank landed hardest, making her cry out, her cunt spasming violently around him. "This fucking cunt belongs to me now. Say it!"
He punctuated the demand with a final, bone-jarring thrust, burying himself impossibly deep. Vera shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her with savage intensity, a silent scream tearing from her throat as her inner walls clamped down like a vise on his cock, milking him furiously. The force of her clenching triggered his own release.
With a ragged, guttural roar that vibrated through her entire body, he came. Hot, wet pulses of cum erupted deep inside her, flooding her channel. He thrust erratically through it, grinding his hips hard against her ass as he emptied himself, each pulse seeming to go on forever, filling her impossibly full. He shuddered violently against her, his grip on her hair loosening slightly as he slumped forward, his harsh breaths hot on her neck.
For long moments, the only sounds were their ragged breathing, the truck’s idle rumble, and the wet drip between her legs. Jace’s weight pressed her hard into the steering wheel, his softening cock still buried deep inside her, pulsing weakly. The scent of sex, sweat, and cigarettes hung thick and heavy in the air. The red handprint bloomed starkly on her pale ass cheek. Her neck throbbed where he’d bitten her.
Slowly, trembling, he lifted his head. He pulled out of her slowly, the sudden emptiness making her gasp. A warm trickle escaped down her inner thigh. He shifted back into the driver’s seat, breathing hard, running a shaky, ink-covered hand through his messy black hair. His hazel eyes, still dark with fading lust but clouded now with something heavier – shock, dread, the crushing weight of reality – met hers in the dim light as she awkwardly turned her head, still pressed against the window.
The iron gates of her family's estate were visible through the rain-streaked windshield. Less than half a block away. Adam was probably already inside. Waiting.