His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 32: Olive's Pov

The slap echoed through the garage and I screamed, the sting mixing with pleasure, making me clench even harder around him.

"You like that?" He did it again, other cheek this time. "Like it when I mark this ass? When I make sure you feel me tomorrow?"

"Yes—god, yes—"

Another slap, harder, and I was coming again, my knees buckling. But he held me up, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other still gripping my hip as he fucked me through my orgasm.

Never stopping and I kept screaming and he kept pounding through me, with smacks from his hands which made everything even more feral.

"That's three," he groaned. "Think you can give me another?" He whispered as he kept pounding

"I can't—" My voice was completely wrecked. "Zane, I can't—"

"You can." He reached around, fingers finding my oversensitive clit. "Be a good girl and give me one more."

"It's too much—"

"Your body doesn't think so." His fingers circled, pressed. "Feel how wet you are? How you're still squeezing my cock? You want this. You need this."

I was sobbing now, overwhelmed, my whole body shaking. But he kept going, kept touching me, kept fucking me, and somehow—impossibly—I felt it building again. Because my body still wanted him, my mind wanted to feel how good his cock felt right inside me.

"That's it," he groaned in my ear. "Feel that? Your body knows who it belongs to."

"Zane—please—fuck… Harder… Fuck me…Harder…"

"Come." He pinched my clit and thrust deep. "Come for me right fucking now."

His words vibrated through my body, like on command and I broke. Shattered completely. My fourth orgasm tore through me so hard I screamed myself hoarse, my whole body convulsing, and I felt him groan, felt him pulse inside me as he came hard, filling me up, shooting his cum right inside me, feeling how hot his seed was, and enough to make me shatter again.

We stayed like that, both of us breathing hard, his chest pressed to my back, his cock still buried deep.

"You okay?" His voice was gentler now.

I nodded because I couldn't speak. My throat was raw, my body was trembling, and I was pretty sure my legs would never work again.

He pulled out slowly and I felt his cum drip down my thighs, warm and thick. Then he was turning me around, lifting me back onto the workbench, his hands checking me over.

"Did I hurt you?"

I shook my head. "No. That was—" I laughed, breathless. "That was insane."

He smiled, and his lips came crashing on mine, hard, sucking and biting my lower lips while my hands instantly found his head. "We're not done." He whispered against my lips.

My eyes widened. "What?"

He pulled back.

"I told you." His thumb brushed my swollen lip. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget every man who came before me. Four orgasms isn't enough."

"Zane—"

"Come on." He held out his hand. "I'm going to fuck you in one of my cars. Print your body on one of ‘em and do that for each of my cars."

My legs were shaking and instantly, I felt myself been lifted from the ground, my face smacking across his chest and I was shocked… I was… I wasn’t expecting him to, it felt strange but I didn’t protest but enjoyed the moment.

We passed rows of cars—Ferraris, Lamborghinis, McLarens—until we stopped in front of a car.

He dropped me down slowly, and when I turned around, I was stunned to see the car that Zane wanted to fuck me on, it was a fucking matte black car that looked like it cost more than a million dollars.

"What is that?"

"Bugatti." He opened the passenger door. "Get in."

“What—" I stood, confused trying to process if this was real.

“Get in the car, Olive

I climbed in on wobbly legs and he instantly shut the door, then walked around to the driver's side. The interior was beautiful, plush interior leather, and I was suddenly very aware that I was still naked, that his cum was still dripping out of me, and it was probably staining his plush seat.

"Zane—"

"Come on, climb over here." His voice was firm. "Straddle me."

My heart hammered. "In your car?"

"In my car." He adjusted the seat back. "Come here, Muffin."

I did as he said, climbing over the center console, the heat from his body making everything felt more intimate. Until I was straddling his lap, my knees on either side of his thighs. He was already hard again—I could feel him pressing against me, hot and thick, right across my arousal, and fuck, I threw my head back, the feeling of having him inside me again, deep, raw, big, thick sent my heart racing.

"You're insatiable," I moaned, slowly circling my waist against the tip of hoc cock as I heard him groaned.

"I’m more." His hands gripped my hips, instantly stopping my movements. "And you are right—I’m insatiable."

Then pulled me down slowly, and I descended on top of him.

I gasped as he filled me again, the angle different, deeper, and I could feel him everywhere, could feel how swollen I was, how sensitive.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You're so tight. Even after all that, you're still so tight."

"It's too much—fuck… You fill me up so well…"

"Yes… and you are taking it." His hands moved to my ass, squeezing. "Like my muffin, taking me so well. Letting me fill you up."

"I don't—you are so thick…so huge...I can’t…"

"Yes, you can." He thrust up slightly. A loud moan ripping off from my lips at his actions. "Move, Olive. Take what you need."

My hands found his shoulders, holding them steadily, I started moving slowly, rolling my hips, lifting and dropping, finding a rhythm. And god, it felt good. Felt different. I was in control, could set the pace, could angle him exactly where I needed.

"That's it." His head fell back against the headrest. "Fuck, that's perfect." He groaned, his groan coming out throaty.

My hands braced on his shoulders as I rode him faster, harder, my breasts bouncing with each movement. While his eyes were glued to them, watching, and then his mouth was on my nipple, sucking hard.

I moaned, my pace faltering.

"Don't stop." He bit down gently. "Keep going. Show me how badly you need this cock. How badly you want it to own you."

I kept moving, kept riding him, and his hand slid between us, finding my clit, and he circled it with his thumb.

"Touch yourself," he commanded.

"What?"

"I want to watch you touch yourself while you fuck me." His eyes locked on mine. "Do it."

My hand shook as I brought it between us, my fingers finding my swollen clit, his hands showing me the way, while I rode him, bouncing up and down.

"Good girl. Now rub it. Show me how you make yourself come when you're alone thinking about me."

I circled slowly, gasping at the sensation, and his eyes dropped to watch my hand, watch where we were joined.

"Faster."

I sped up, my other hand gripping his shoulder as I kept riding him, kept touching myself.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this." His voice was wrecked. "All desperate and needy. Taking my cock like you were made for it."

"I'm close—"

"I know." He thrust up hard. "I can feel you. Feel how you're squeezing me. And now come."

I came with a broken cry, my body clenching around him, and I felt him pulse.

He held my waist and he began thrusting inside me, his hips rolling into me like he owned every inch, each deeper than the former, sending my breasts flying, my screams even higher, so fucking high pitched, felt him fill me up again as he groaned my name, hot cum flying straight into my womb, as I shattered again, pussy clenching hard against him.

I collapsed against his chest, completely spent, and his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight.

"Five," he murmured against my hair. "That's five times, Muffin."

"I can't—" My voice was gone. "No more—"

"Shh." His hand rubbed circles on my back. "No more tonight. You did so good, Baby. So fucking good."

I sagged against him, boneless, and he held me like he hadn’t just ruined me right now.

"You're mine," he whispered. "Mine."

And I believed him.

For a second.