Chapter 104 Back Home
His tongue mirrored the rhythm below, thrusting in and out as he began to move her more steadily. Up and down, his grip firm on her hips now, helping her find a pace that didn't overwhelm. The car seat creaked under them, the confined space amplifying every sound—the wet slide of his cock in her pussy, her quickening breaths, his low grunts of pleasure.
She broke the kiss to gasp for air, her breasts heaving with each bounce. Zion's free hand returned to one of them, squeezing the soft flesh, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The dual sensations of both his mouth on her skin one moment, his fingers the next, combined with the relentless push of his dick inside her; made her head spin. Her clit, neglected until now, rubbed against the coarse hair at his base every time she bottomed out, sending jolts of electricity through her core.
“Tell me how it feels,” he said, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down his temple. He wasn't rushing; he was savoring her, his experienced body attuned to her every reaction, from the way her breath hitched, to the subtle tremors in her thighs.
“It... it's a lot,” Molly admitted, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Full. Like you're everywhere.” She clenched around him experimentally, and Zion groaned, his head falling back against the headrest. The sound went straight to her core, making her bolder. She started to move on her own more, lifting higher and dropping down with a bit more force, chasing that building pressure.
The pleasure intensified with each stroke. Her pussy adapted, the initial resistance giving way to a slick glide that let him sink deeper. She could feel him throbbing inside her, the head of his cock kissing her cervix on deeper thrusts, a mix of pressure and bliss that made her whimper.
Zion's hands roamed—one staying on her ass to steady her, the other tracing patterns over her stomach, up to her ribs, teasing the undersides of her breasts. He leaned forward to suck on her other nipple, his tongue laving the peak before drawing it into his mouth with a firm pull.
Molly's fingers threaded through his hair again, holding him there as new waves of sensation crashed over her. The car smelled of sex now—her arousal, his musk, the faint leather of the seats. Outside, the world was distant, blurred by the fogged windows, but inside, it was just them, bodies syncing.
She felt exposed, vulnerable in her inexperience, but Zion's touches were patient, encouraging. He whispered praises between licks and kisses.
Emboldened, she ground down harder, circling her hips to feel him stir inside her. Zion sensed it, his thrusts meeting hers now, upward snaps of his hips that made his balls slap lightly against her ass. The rhythm built, slow at first, then faster, the slap of skin growing louder, more insistent.
Her thighs burned from the effort, but she didn't care. Every plunge of his thick cock stretched her, filled her, the veins dragging along her walls in a way that made her inner muscles spasm. She was soaking him, her juices dripping down to coat his sack, easing the way for deeper penetration. Zion's breaths came in pants, his control slipping as her moans became louder.
The car rocked slightly. Then:
The radio crackled.
Zion froze.
At first, Molly thought it was nothing. Just background noise, the low murmur of a late-night broadcast. But something in the shift of his body, how suddenly still he went, that made her pause.
“What?” she whispered, breath uneven.
“Wait,” he said, sharp, already pulling back, his head tilting toward the dashboard. “Turn that up.”
Confused, Molly reached blindly for the knob, twisting it. The static cleared, the announcer’s voice cutting clean through the charged silence.
“…identified as Erica Marsh, was found in her home late last night—”
Molly stilled.
The world seemed to narrow, the sound tunneling straight into her ears.
“…sources confirm the victim had previously contacted authorities, reporting that her daughter had been kidnapped—”
Her hand slipped from the dial.
Zion didn’t move.
Neither of them breathed.
“…police are now actively searching for two primary suspects, believed to be operating under the names Enzo and Zion Torres—”
“Oh shit…”
“…both individuals are considered dangerous—”
Molly’s heartbeat roared in her ears, drowning everything else out.
“…and are wanted in connection with both the alleged kidnapping and the murder—”
“No,” she said, but it came out barely audible. “No, that’s—no, that’s not—”
Her mother.
Dead.
The last time she’d heard her voice was only last night…
Zion reached forward and turned the volume down, not off, just enough to stop the words from slicing any deeper. His jaw was tight, eyes dark, calculating, already moving ahead, already thinking.
Molly wasn’t.
She just sat there, frozen, the weight of it crashing down all at once.
“They think…” she started, her voice breaking. “They think you—”
Silence swallowed the car.
Molly shook her head slowly, like if she did it enough, the words would rearrange themselves into something else. Something that made sense.
“She called the police,” she whispered. “She told them I was kidnapped…”
Zion finally looked at her then.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Serious.
“We don’t have time to sit on this,” he said quietly. “If they’re saying that on the radio, it’s already everywhere.”
Molly’s hands started to tremble.
“My mom is dead.”
The words didn’t feel real.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice lower now, controlled. “Maybe someone wanted it to look like this.”
Molly stared ahead, unseeing.
Somewhere out there, her mother had died because she hadn’t stayed home and now the whole world believed the guy sitting below her had something to do with her death..
“I… need to go home.” She said abruptly. “Please.”