The Truck Driver

Fresh Cookies

With the front door double locked and all the curtains closed Tank gripped Kayla's hips, his large hands engulfing her waist as he guided her movements, pulling her down harder with each bounce causing her to forget all about Darling and the Washington women.

His deep groans mixed with her breathy moans, the sound of their connection filling the room. The glow of the television cast a dim light across their bodies, but all Tank could focus on was the way Kayla moved, the way she took him without hesitation.

"That's my girl," he murmured against her neck, his lips trailing heat along her skin.

Kayla's fingers dug into his thighs as she gasped, overwhelmed by the way he stretched her. She could barely keep up, her body trembling as he took full control, lifting her and bringing her down at a pace that had her head lolling back against his chest.

"Ugh, you're so big," she whimpered, her nails scraping along his muscled thighs.

Tank smirked, gripping her tighter. "You can take it, baby," he reassured, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine.

Her body burned, pleasure sparking through her veins as he reached around, his fingers finding her sensitive spot. She jolted in his grasp, her hands flying to his wrists, unsure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

"Ugh, daddy," she moaned, her breath hitching as her body tightened around him.

Tank's eyes darkened at the word, his grip tightening as he met her movements with deep, steady thrusts. "Say it again," he ordered, his tone thick with lust.

Kayla bit her lip, shaking her head as pleasure overtook her senses. She wanted to fight it, but the way he moved inside her had her giving in completely.

"Harder, daddy," she whimpered, her voice shaking as she tried to take him even deeper.

That was all the encouragement Tank needed. He planted his feet firmly on the floor, gripping her waist with both hands as he slammed her down onto him, his name tumbling from her lips in desperate cries.

He didn't care about anything else— Darling, the Washington women, none of it mattered. Kayla was his, and he was no hers. And he would make sure she knew it every single time.

Tank kept his grip tight on Kayla's waist, his fingers pressing into her soft skin as he set a ruthless pace. The sound of their bodies colliding echoed through the room, mixing with her breathless moans and the deep, guttural groans rumbling from his chest. She was wrapped around him so perfectly, her warmth squeezing him just right, making it damn near impossible to hold back.

"That's it, baby. Take all this dick," he grunted, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

Kayla's head fell back against his shoulder, her body trembling as pleasure crashed over her in waves. She'd never felt anything like this before—Tank owned her body completely, controlling her movements, pulling every reaction out of her like he knew exactly what she needed.

"Ugh, Tank," she moaned, her fingers reaching back to grip his short-cropped hair as he bit down on her shoulder, sending another shiver through her body.

He didn't slow down. If anything, her moans only pushed him further, his thrusts growing deeper, more intense. His rough, calloused hands spread her wider, making sure she took every inch.

"You know I love you, right?" he murmured against her skin, his breath hot as he nipped at her neck. "Ain't nobody taking you from me. You mine, Kayla."

She turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his jawline. "I know, daddy," she whispered, her voice shaky from the force of his strokes.