“That I am going to miss this so much I already want to cry,” I answer, voice muffled against his skin. “That I hate every mile we just put between your bed and mine. That I want you to ruin me so thoroughly I feel you for weeks after you are gone.”

His fingers pause. Then he pushes two inside me in one slow, possessive glide. The stretch is perfect. I bite his shoulder through his T-shirt to muffle the moan.

He curls them, finds that spot instantly, and starts a slow, steady rhythm that matches the thrum of the engine.

My thighs are shaking so hard the blanket trembles.

“Jake, please...”

“Not yet,” he says, and withdraws his fingers completely. I whine at the loss, high and needy.

He brings those fingers to my mouth. “Taste yourself. Taste how much you want this.”

I lick them clean without hesitation, sucking them deep, eyes locked on his in the dim reflection of the window.

He groans softly and I feel his cock jerk against my entrance.

My legs are screaming now. The position is brutal. Jake notices, slides both hands under my thighs and lifts me just enough to readjust, then settles me back down so I am sitting fully impaled, my back to his chest, legs draped over his.

The new angle drives him even deeper. I have to cover my mouth with my own hand to keep from crying out.

He keeps one arm banded around my waist, the other returns to my breasts. This time he is slow, almost tender, tracing circles around my nipples with just his fingertips until they are so sensitive I am shaking.

“Tell me what you feel,” he whispers.

“Like I am going to come just from this,” I answer, voice muffled. “Like I am already ruined and we still have hours left.”

He kisses the side of my neck, soft, open-mouthed. “Good.”

My legs are starting to cramp again. I shift, trying to find a better angle, and the movement drives him deeper. I gasp, loud enough that Rick glances in the rear-view.

“You good back there?”

Jake’s arm tightens around my waist. His free hand slides down, finds my clit, starts slow circles.

“We are fine,” Jake answers, voice steady while his fingers make my hips jerk.

Rick nods, turns back.

I am panting now, the fear of that glance mixing with the pleasure in a way that makes everything sharper. If Rick had looked longer, if he had seen the blanket move, if he had heard the soft, wet sounds under it...

Jake feels me clench around him. “You like that? The risk?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “It makes it better. Scarier.”

He circles faster. “Come for me then. Quietly.”

I do, shaking, biting my own wrist to muffle the moans as my pussy spasms around him.

Rick’s voice breaks the haze. “Next exit, gas and bathroom. Ten minutes.”

Mom wakes up, stretches, yawns. “I need coffee. Lily, want anything?”

Jake’s cock is still buried inside me, pulsing with every heartbeat. I am so close to another orgasm I can taste it.

“I am good,” I manage, voice hoarse.

The car pulls into the farthest pump. Doors open. Cool outside air rushes in. Mom and Rick’s footsteps crunch away across gravel.

The second they disappear inside the convenience store, Jake moves.

Blanket flung aside, hands on my waist, bold now. He lifts me off his cock so fast the sudden emptiness makes me whine, “No, Jake, put it back, please—”

He spins me, pushes me chest-first against the tinted back window. My palms slap the glass. My nipples, raw and swollen from hours of attention, drag across the cold surface and the sting is so perfect I sob, “Yes, right there, please—”

“Hands on the glass,” he growls behind me. “Show me how much you need this goodbye.”

I arch, pushing my ass out, dress rucked up to my waist. “Fuck me hard,” I beg, voice breaking. “Make me feel it for weeks. Please.”

He lines up and slams home in one brutal thrust.

The scream that rips out of me echoes in the empty car. My forehead knocks the glass. Every thrust rocks the SUV on its suspension. He sets a punishing rhythm, one hand in my hair, the other sliding around to rub my clit in rough circles.

“Look out there,” he snarls against my ear. “Any second Mom could walk out and see her perfect little girl getting railed in the back seat.”

The thought alone detonates me. I come screaming his name, pussy spasming so hard I squirt down his thighs and the seat. “Jake, oh God, I am coming! don’t stop—”

He does not. He fucks me through it, drawing it out until I am shaking and crying and begging in broken whispers, “Please come inside me. I need to feel you.”

He slams deep one last time, groans my name against my neck, and I feel him swell and pulse, flooding me with heat, rope after rope until it is dripping down my legs in thick rivers.

We are still panting when headlights sweep the lot. Mom and Rick walking back, coffee cups in hand.

Jake pulls out slow, tucks himself away, smooths my dress down just as the doors open.

Mom slides in, smiling. “Feel better, sweetie?”

I turn, hair wild, lips swollen, his cum already sliding warm down my thighs.

“So much better,” I say, voice wrecked.

Jake meets my eyes in the rear-view mirror and mouths: Two more hours.

I settle back onto his lap, feel him already hard again, and whisper against his jaw, “Make it hurt, Jake. I want to feel you for weeks.”

He smiles, dark and possessive, and the car pulls back onto the highway.

Best goodbye I have ever had.