The beast on the hood

Ana Sofia Salinas was not used to hearing “no.” She had built an empire in the tech industry with a mix of ambition, talent and a charm that baffled rivals and allies alike. Her heels clicked like an authoritative metronome in boardrooms, where men with years of experience trembled under her sharp gaze.

The encounter took place on a stormy afternoon on the outskirts of the city, when her German sports car refused to start in the middle of a muddy street. Wearing a white linen dress that hugged her figure like a caress, Ana Sofia pushed open the door of the nearest garage. Each of her steps, accentuated by her stiletto heels, resonated with authority, an elegant intrusion into that space saturated with grease and ranchera music.

Her light hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders, with golden highlights that captured the little light that filtered into the workshop, as if she refused to give in to the darkness of the environment. Ana Sofia's brown eyes were deep and calculating, a hypnotic contrast to her clear, smooth skin, which seemed to have been sculpted by the sun, but always protected from its excesses. There was something undeniable about her presence, an intimidating perfection that did not require words to be noticed.

The tight dress showed off her generous, proud breasts, so firm and provocative that no hand could encompass them all. Her curves were bold, deliberate, and her narrow waist marked an almost unreal contrast with wide hips that demanded to be seen. The natural movement of her bottom as she walked was an involuntary spectacle, impossible to ignore, and the lines of the linen that covered it seemed drawn to worship it.

There he was. Miguel Angel “Mikey” Fuentes, gray tank top, tattooed arms, and a lopsided grin that screamed “trouble.” His skin was covered in a light layer of oil, and sweat trickled down his neck to disappear under his shirt. When he saw her enter, he raised an eyebrow and wiped his hands on an already dirty rag.

"We don't have valet parking, lady." His mocking tone barely concealed the impudence in his gaze.

Ana Sofia didn't flinch. With a calculated movement, she brushed aside a lock of damp hair that had stuck to her forehead, revealing brown eyes that could disarm anyone with their intensity.

—My car is outside. I need you to fix it. And do it quickly, time is of the essence.

Mikey watched her for a moment, as if considering whether it was worth arguing with someone like her. Finally, he shrugged and went out into the rain to check on the car. He returned minutes later, with a diagnosis that sounded more like a taunt than a technical report.

—It's going to be hard. A lot. —The smile on his face made it clear that he enjoyed watching Ana Sofia struggle not to frown.

—Money is no problem, as long as you do your job well.

“Always so bossy?” he asked, leaning against the counter. His smile was still there, but this time there was something darker, an implicit challenge.

“Always so insubordinate?” she replied, taking a step closer to him, closing the distance enough that the air between them seemed to vibrate. The tension was palpable, like a pent-up current about to burst.

Meanwhile, the surroundings of the workshop began to take shape in Ana Sofia's perception. Until that moment, she had not paid attention beyond her discomfort at being there, but now the details of the place emerged as a stark contrast to her orderly world. Although the floor was marked with oil stains and the thick air smelled of metal and grease, the tools were arranged on shelves meticulously, each in its place, as if someone was trying hard to maintain some order in the inevitable chaos of manual labor.

What caught her attention, however, were the posters on the walls: models in provocative poses, with perfect smiles and skimpy outfits. One particularly large poster showed a blonde in a bikini lying on the hood of a sports car. Ana Sofia narrowed her eyes, her gaze fixed on the image for a second longer than necessary, before making a comment with a raised eyebrow.

"What an… illustrative setting," he said, dropping the words with the measured cadence of someone who doesn't intend to conceal his judgment, as if he were evaluating a low-class restaurant instead of a mechanic's shop.

Mikey, who had crouched down by the engine again, looked up at her. His smile slowly widened as he continued to work, not bothering to hide the mocking tone in his tone.

“Inspiring, isn’t it?” he said, turning his neck toward the poster and then back to her. “But don’t worry, rich lady, no one here can compete with you.”

Ana Sofia kept her expression neutral, but the slight blush on her cheeks revealed that Mikey's words were not indifferent to her. His tone and the impudence in his gaze seemed to enjoy every little moment in which they managed to unsettle her.

Ana Sofia pursed her lips, torn between indignation and amusement. She decided to ignore the direct provocation, though she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

"I hope you're as skilled with your hands as you are with your mouth," he said, his tone neutral, but with a hidden spark that did not go unnoticed.

Mikey let out a deep, slow laugh, making it clear that he wasn't going to back down from the game.

“My hands never disappoint,” he replied, holding up a tool as if it were a trophy, his dark eyes remaining fixed on it.

Ana Sofia crossed her arms, aware of how her posture enhanced her breasts, something that Mikey noticed, although he tried to hide it.

“Do you always work this slowly?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her gaze fixed on him as if she wanted to gauge how long it would take him to meet her standards.

Mikey, who was checking an engine sensor, turned to her with a lopsided smile.

“Always so impatient?” he replied, setting the tool down on the workbench and wiping his hands on a rag. “This isn’t one of your meetings where everyone is dying to please you. Things get done right here, even if they take time.”

The comment caused Ana Sofia to let out a brief laugh, more dangerous than funny.

—I see you have a lot to learn about how to treat a client. Is this how you talk to every woman who comes in here?

“Only the ones who come with airs of superiority.” Mikey took a step towards her, stopping just long enough to distance himself without completely invading her personal space. Even with the obvious difference in status between them, there was not a trace of submission in his posture. “Besides, you don’t seem like the kind of woman who needs to hear what’s best for her.”

The air between them grew thicker, charged with something that neither the rain outside nor the background noise of the workshop could dissipate. Ana Sofia felt a tingle run down her spine, but she refused to give in to the heat that was beginning to ignite inside her.

"I prefer results to empty words," he said, his voice firm, but with a hint of defiance that Mikey didn't miss.

—Perfect. Then stop supervising like this is your office and let me do my job. —Mikey smiled again, tilting his head as if he enjoyed every second of the tug-of-war.

She narrowed her eyes, assessing him for a moment before moving a little closer, closing the distance between them to just a couple of steps.

—I hope so, because if you don't do it right, I won't hesitate to tell you. —Ana Sofia's tone was soft, but full of an authority that refused to be ignored.

Mikey held her gaze, his lips curving into a wider smile.

—I'd love to see you do it. —His deep voice had a defiant, almost brazen tone to it, which made Ana Sofia feel a pang of irritation and, at the same time, a tingle she hadn't expected.

The sound of a key falling to the floor broke the tension of the moment. Ana Sofia turned her head, noticing for the first time two young men at the back of the workshop. They had gone unnoticed until then, almost camouflaged among the tools and the mess. Barely teenagers, perhaps apprentices, they exchanged glances and knowing smiles while murmuring something that did not reach Ana Sofia's ears, but which Mikey picked up instantly.

"Are your employees always this unprofessional?" she asked, her icy gaze fixed on the boys, causing them to immediately look down.

Mikey let out a slow exhale before walking towards them. His figure loomed like a shadow over the boys, who instantly straightened up, aware that they had crossed a line.

“Want to share the joke?” Mikey asked, his tone seemingly relaxed, but with a harshness that made the two quickly shake their heads, their nervousness evident.

He leaned slightly toward them, lowering his voice just enough for them to hear. “Leave for today. And you better come back with the right attitude. You know where the door is.”

The boys nodded quickly, awkwardly gathering their things and avoiding looking in Ana Sofia's direction as they headed for the exit. As they passed her, one of them muttered a hasty apology that was barely audible, before disappearing behind the metal door of the workshop.

Mikey watched them leave before turning to Ana Sofia. “They are my nephews. They are just learning, but they have more hormones than common sense.”

The workshop fell silent, save for the patter of rain against the tin roof. Now alone, Mikey's presence seemed to fill the space more, as if the place were part of him. Ana Sofia crossed her arms, the echo of the reprimand still ringing in her ears, while a spark of something she didn't want to name ignited in the air between them.

“And sometimes they need a tug on the leash.” His words were loaded with meaning, and the way his eyes locked on her made it clear he wasn’t just talking about his employees.

Ana Sofia watched as Mikey walked back to the car, leaning over to pull a tool from the open box next to the hood. The movement pulled the fabric of his tank top taut, revealing the firm outline of his worked muscles. His hands, rough and grease-stained, handled the tools with ease, but his every gesture seemed to hold something else: a raw, almost feral energy that filled the space between them.

The clanking of tools and the patter of rain against the roof of the workshop were the only sounds that broke the dense silence. Ana Sofia, standing next to the car, crossed her arms over her chest, not as a defensive gesture, but as if she were trying to regain the control that Mikey seemed to take away from her with his mere presence.

“Are you always this loud?” she finally asked, sarcasm sharp in her voice, though her eyes followed his every move, as if she couldn’t look away.

Mikey raised his head, looking at her with a lopsided grin that seemed to dare her to take their exchange of provocations one step further.

“Always so fine?” he replied, resting his hands on the edge of the hood as he looked straight at her. His tone was casual, but the intensity of his gaze spoke of something much deeper.

Ana Sofia gave a dry laugh, shaking her head slightly. “There is a difference between rudeness and efficiency, though you seem unfamiliar with the concept.”

Mikey took a step toward her, his boots clicking on the oil-stained floor. He stopped close enough that she could smell the scent of metal mixed with a faint trace of sweat and cheap soap. His height, his imposing body, forced her to raise her face slightly to maintain eye contact. The tension between them became almost palpable, like a thread about to snap.

"And you don't seem like the kind of woman who would be intimidated by a little rudeness," he murmured, his voice deep, with an undertone that seemed like both an invitation and a challenge.

Ana Sofia felt her breathing quicken, though her expression remained unchanged. However, something inside her lit up when she saw Mikey's hands, still stained with grease, just a few centimeters away from her white dress.

“It’s not about being intimidated,” she said, leaning slightly toward him, her words laden with a cold but seductive challenge. “It’s about not settling for mediocre.”

Mikey didn't take his eyes off her. Instead, he lifted one of his dirty hands and deliberately let the pads of his fingers graze the fabric of her dress at the level of her hip. The grease left a subtle, dark mark, like a deliberate contrast to Ana Sofia's flawless perfection.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice lower, almost a whisper. The movement was so slow and full of intent that it rendered Ana Sofia speechless for a moment.

The heat between them increased exponentially. Mikey moved his hand down her hip to the top of her thigh, tracing a path that was a mix of roughness and care. Ana Sofia didn't back away. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she raised a hand to push him lightly on the chest. But the gesture, far from being a denial, only brought them closer.

“You’re an animal,” she murmured, but her tone was devoid of reproach. There was something electric in her gaze, a spark that Mikey caught instantly.

"And you provoked me," he replied, before leaning towards her.

The first contact was abrupt, without preamble. Their lips met with a force that made them both take a step back, crashing into the car. Ana Sofia let her back rest against the edge of the hood, while Mikey's hands, strong and calloused, surrounded her firmly, trapping her between his body and the cold metal of the vehicle.

The combination of his roughness and the gentleness implied in how he handled her set Ana Sofia’s every nerve alight. Mikey’s hands moved with controlled urgency, moving up her thighs, slowly lifting the hem of her dress as his lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that made her arch against him.

Mikey's smile tugged at the curve of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin in a mix of mockery and defiance as he murmured, "You're going to get dirty."

Ana Sofia, her breath coming in gasps, answered in a whisper. “It doesn’t matter.” Her nails, thin and precise, slowly slid down his back, digging in with a firmness that elicited a low growl from him. It was as if she wanted to return the mark, a silent gesture that spoke of who was really in control.

Mikey's body tensed as he pinned her against the hood. His rough hands slid down Ana Sofia's bare thighs, leaving dark traces on the smoothness of her skin, a contrast that needed no words to express what he wanted: not just to touch her, but to claim her. Every movement of his fingers spoke of an intensity that sought to shape the delicacy before him.

The sound that escaped Ana Sofia's lips was not a simple moan; it was a restrained melody, charged with an emotion that seemed to vibrate in the air. Her body, normally composed and in control, curved towards him like a leaf yielding to the wind, while her hands ran up Mikey's firm arms. Careful, feminine fingers found refuge in his neck, tangling in his hair with a mix of need and defiance.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he murmured, but his eyes, shining with an indomitable fire, said otherwise. His lips, red and wet, trembled in time with a breathing he couldn’t control. The intensity in his gaze was not a surrender, but an invitation to conflict.

Mikey didn't pull away. His voice, low and heavy with desire, rang like a dark promise. "I know exactly what I'm doing." Without asking permission, he moved one knee forward, wedging it firmly between her thighs. The direct, almost blatant pressure drew a gasp from her that filled the workshop like an intimate echo. The friction against her sex, still covered by the delicate fabric, was a cruel game between the restrained and the inevitable.

Ana Sofia raised her face, her eyes daring Mikey to go further, even though her body had already decided. Her hips moved instinctively, seeking the contact that her pride wouldn’t allow her to ask for out loud. “I didn’t want this,” she whispered, but her voice lacked conviction. Her body, trapped between his hands and the insistent pressure of his knee, trembled with a need she couldn’t hide.

Mikey smiled, that lopsided smile that carried within it a mix of arrogance and desire, as he increased the pressure on his knee slightly, drawing a soft moan from her. “Don’t lie, lady,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again, deeper this time, more demanding. His tongue invaded her mouth with a force that completely disarmed her, while his rhythmic movements against her kept her body alight, each touch sending waves of pleasure reverberating in the heavy air of the workshop.

His hands continued up her thighs until they reached the edge of her lace underwear, a garment so delicate that it seemed like a mockery of the roughness of the situation. Mikey pulled at it carefully, although his intention was clear: to leave no barriers between them. Ana Sofia trembled slightly, a mixture of longing and need running through her body as his fingertips brushed her most sensitive skin.

“Mikey…” she murmured, her voice shaky, her nails digging into his shoulders as if trying to hold on to something solid as the world she had built around herself began to crumble.

Mikey looked at her with an intensity that took her breath away, as if his gaze alone could strip her of any resistance. His hands, firm and rough, moved with a precision that bordered on cruelty, lifting the dress up to her waist. The fabric slid like a whisper, revealing Ana Sofia's femininity, so perfect and delicate that it contrasted brutally with the rough surroundings of the workshop. His dark eyes slid over her body, scanning her shamelessly, like a predator observing its prey in the moment before the attack.

“You look beautiful, but you look even better when you stop fighting me,” Mikey murmured, his voice low and rough, like a suppressed roar. As he spoke, his fingers, rough but skilled, began to explore her, drawing paths on her skin that made her shiver. Each touch alternated between the urgency of a man making demands and the deliberation of someone who knows exactly what he is doing. Ana Sofia’s sighs filled the silence of the workshop, her soft, feminine cadence contrasting with the brutality he embodied.

She arched her back, her movements revealing the tension between desire and surrender. Her hand, shaking, braced itself on the hood to steady herself as Mikey's lips descended, leaving a burning line of wet kisses from her neck to her collarbone. The roughness of his lips, mixed with the warmth of his breath, drew involuntary reactions from her body. Every time his teeth grazed the curve of her neck, a shudder passed through her, sending an unmistakable message of his surrender.

With a determined move, Mikey let his hand run over the fabric of the dress until he found the edge of the bra. He pulled the fabric down, slowly revealing the work of art it hid. The white lace, adorned with intricate floral patterns, seemed made to adorn Ana Sofia’s flawless skin. The small petals of lace barely covered the fullness of her breasts, which overflowed with a grace that was impossible to ignore. The warm tone of her skin glowed in the yellowish light of the workshop, as if the contrast between the delicacy of her body and the brutality of the place was designed to drive him mad.

The lace dug softly into the flesh, marking subtle lines that seemed to invite the touch. Each curve of her perfectly shaped breasts was a spectacle in itself, as if the simple action of breathing encouraged the lace to move in a hypnotic rhythm. Mikey let his fingers slide over the fine texture of the lace, feeling how its roughness contrasted with the softness of the material and the warmth of the skin beneath.

The contrast fascinated him, it caught him. The lace, delicate but resistant, clung to Ana Sofia's femininity like a second skin, while his fingers, marked by the roughness of the work, seemed out of place as they ran over it. Mikey stopped, his breathing heavy, and his eyes devoured the image in front of him. Every detail, from the natural weight of her breasts to the way the lace struggled to contain them, called to him like a provocation. There was a hidden strength in her, a mix of fragility and defiance that drove him to want to take her, mark her, as if he could make her his once and for all.

Ana Sofia gasped as she felt Mikey's footprints seem to claim her body. The sensation of his rough hands on the lace contrasted with the sweetness of his lips, which moved down to the curve of her breasts. With almost brutal firmness, he pulled her bra down, exposing her completely to him. The lace gave way with a slight snap, revealing her bare skin, marked by the dark traces of the fat he himself had left.

Without holding back for a moment, Mikey leaned towards her like a predator finding its prey, trapping her between the cold hood and his hot body. His rough tongue ran over one of the black marks his fingers had left on Ana Sofia's delicate skin, licking it with raw, almost violent aggression. His hot breath mixed with the metallic aroma of the workshop and her subtle perfume, creating a contrast that drove him even crazier. Each pass of his tongue was like a declaration of dominance, a promise that he would not leave an inch of her skin unclaimed.

Ana Sofia let out a strangled moan, her soft, melodic voice contrasting with the roughness of her movements. Her delicate nails dug into Mikey’s shoulders, leaving little crescents in his skin, an instinctive act that was more surrender than resistance. Her chest, sensitive and exposed, arched towards him as if her body was seeking more than her mind was trying to process.

Mikey’s lips moved ravenously, circling her hardened nipples, leaving wet kisses that felt like a mix of adoration and brutality. His large, rough hands held her tightly, marking her with their grip as his lips closed around one of her nipples. He sucked with an almost ferocious intensity, drawing ragged gasps from her that filled the space. His tongue, firm and hot, moved with deliberate precision, while his teeth grazed the sensitive skin, sending shocks of pleasure mixed with the most delicious pain.

“You have no idea how hot you make me,” Mikey growled against her chest, his words husky and filled with a desire that seemed to consume him. He gave her no respite; as he continued to suck hard, his hands held her still, his fingers leaving new imprints on her hips, as if he wanted to make sure every part of her bore his mark.

As his tongue slid over the curve of her breast, deliberately cleaning away every trace of dirt he had left behind, he did so with a savage intensity, as if he were claiming her body in a primal way. Every lick, every suck, was an assertion of his raw masculinity, an overwhelming contrast to Ana Sofia's exquisite femininity.

Mikey grabbed her by the hips with tremendous strength, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. He sat her on the hood of the car with a quick and decisive movement, like a man accustomed to handling reality according to his will.

He leaned into her, his firm chest pressing against Ana Sofia’s generous breasts, which still bore the marks of his lips and tongue. He held her firmly in place with one hand at the small of her back, while with the other he parted her thighs without asking permission, claiming every inch of her skin. His gaze burned, dark and filled with a desire he made no attempt to hide, while she faced him with shining eyes, as if, despite the surrender of her body, her spirit refused to give in completely.

“You’re a fucking temptation, you know that?” he growled, his hot breath brushing against her face before he lowered his head to gently bite the curve of her neck. His voice, raspy and deep, echoed like a primal sound in the workshop, a contrast to Ana Sofia’s soft but determined panting.

She lifted her face, her lips parted, seeking the contact of his, but it was Mikey who took control, kissing her with an aggression that stole her breath. His tongue invaded her mouth, claiming her with every movement while his hands continued to explore her with a mixture of roughness and care.

Without giving her time to react, Mikey pushed her back, forcing her to lie down on the hood. The contrast between the coldness of the metal and the scorching heat of his body made her arch involuntarily, while her legs entwined around his waist, drawing him closer, as if their bodies were trying to fuse. Her hands, small and delicate, clung to his shoulders, her nails digging in with a strength that belied her impeccable appearance.

“Come on, just do it… if you’re in such a hurry,” Ana Sofia whispered, her tone soft but laden with defiance. The spark in her eyes was a reminder that even in her submission, she was not completely submissive.

Mikey let out a low, gravelly laugh, sliding a firm hand up her bare thigh. “You asked for it, lady. I’m not stopping.” And with that promise, he eliminated any distance that still remained between them.

Without further ado, he grabbed her hips and positioned himself against her, entering in one fell swoop, with a force that made Ana Sofia arch even more, letting out a moan that echoed off the walls of the workshop. The initial impact left her breathless, but her body soon began to move to the rhythm he set, each thrust filling her with raw, overwhelming pleasure.

Mikey didn't hold back. His hands held her firmly, his fingers marking her skin as if he wanted to make sure she felt every part of him. His every move was brutal and accurate, an assertion of his untamed masculinity, while Ana Sofia, trapped between the hood and his body, surrendered to the pleasure without completely losing that defiant spark. Her moans, though soft, carried a tone of control, as if even in her absolute surrender, she refused to let him win completely.

The sound of their bodies meeting, of their ragged breathing and their names murmured in the heat of the moment, filled the space like a primal symphony. Mikey leaned his head towards her, capturing one of her nipples between his lips as he continued to move inside her with a force that made her shiver.

Ana Sofia, her face flushed and her messy hair falling over her shoulders, looked at him with a mixture of surrender and defiance. “Is that all you have?” she whispered, a barely perceptible smile curving her lips.

Her comment made him growl in something between amusement and defiance. “Not even close, lady. I’m not done with you yet.” And with those words, he held her tighter, his movements becoming even more intense, pushing them both towards a pleasure neither of them could contain.

Mikey responded to the challenge with a deep growl, his gaze locked on Ana Sofia's as his movements became firmer, more relentless. There was no letup in the way he took her; it was an unleashed force, raw and visceral, not asking for permission, just taking it.

Ana Sofia clung to the hood, her nails scraping the cold metal as her body arched to meet his. The coldness of the hood beneath her back contrasted with the searing heat she felt inside her, as if each thrust was a spark lighting a deeper fire. Her dress, fully hiked up to her waist, revealed her defined hips and taut thighs, entwined around Mikey as if trying to hold him even closer.

“That’s it… more,” she gasped, her voice cracking, filled with a pleasure she could no longer control. Her hands, once on his shoulders, now slid down his back, tracing desperate lines, as if she wanted to leave her mark on him as well.

Mikey, driven by his own need, leaned his body into her, holding her with a strength that nearly made her lose her balance on the hood. Each thrust carried an implicit declaration: she was his, at least for that moment, under those flickering shop lights, surrounded by the smell of metal, grease and desire.

“Like this?” he growled, his lips seeking hers, capturing them with a mix of fury and desire before gently biting her bottom lip.

She laughed softly against his mouth, but there was a challenge in her eyes that didn’t go away, even as her body shook under Mikey’s weight. “Almost… but I still want more.”

Mikey, caught in the most basic desire, couldn’t resist any longer. He turned her over onto the hood, forcing her to lean forward as his firm hands gripped Ana Sofia’s hips. Her dress was already bunched around her waist, exposing the perfect curve of her buttocks that now rose towards him, like an offering. The way she arched her back, with her legs slightly apart, evoked the image of a cat in heat, completely surrendered to the moment and begging for more.

The workshop, full of shadows and echoes, amplified the sounds of her labored breathing, of her moans that intensified with each of Mikey's movements. His hands ran over her bare skin, squeezing it with a mix of strength and adoration, marking it with his fingers as if he wanted to make sure she knew who she belonged to at that moment.

“Tell me…” Mikey growled, his deep voice laced with fierce desire as he leaned over her. “Do you want me to keep going? Do you want me to make you mine completely?”

She, lost in pleasure, turned her face towards him, her gaze alight and her lips parted. “More… more. Make me feel everything.”

Her response drove him even harder. His hips slammed into hers in a deeper, more urgent rhythm. But then, in the midst of his ecstasy, Ana Sofia raised her head, her voice cracked but determined.

“Use… all of me,” she said, barely a whisper that hung in the air, but clear enough for Mikey to understand. Her gaze turned to him, defiant and pleading at the same time. “Do it… there, too.”

Mikey paused for a second, surprised by her request, but the desire in his gaze left no room for doubt. Slowly, he let his hands slide between Ana Sofia's buttocks, his fingers exploring carefully, making sure she was ready for what was coming. The warmth of her skin and the accumulated moisture told him everything he needed to know: she wanted him as much as he did.

“You’re sure, lady,” he murmured, his voice hoarse as he looked down at her. “Because when I start, I’m not stopping.”

Ana Sofia, her face flushed and her body trembling under his touch, nodded quickly. “I’m more than ready, Mikey. Do it…”

Mikey adjusted his position, guiding himself carefully as he held her tighter. The first thrust was slow, deliberate, testing her limits, as she let out a moan that was a mix of pleasure and defiance.

—God… —Ana Sofia gasped, clinging to the hood as if it were the only thing keeping her standing—. Deeper… don't stop.

Her words pushed him to move harder. Each thrust made him feel more in control, more connected to every part of her, as Ana Sofia clung to that mix of pleasure and vulnerability that made her tremble. Her body, firm but flexible, moved to the frenetic rhythm that Mikey set, her moans resonating like a wild melody that filled the empty workshop.

Mikey, eyes half-closed, face set in concentration, knew this moment wasn't just physical. The way she gave herself to him, the way she accepted him completely, made him feel more alive, more powerful. Every thrust was an affirmation, not just of his strength, but of his ability to take everything she was willing to give.

Ana Sofia, for her part, was completely lost. The contrast between the initial pain and the pleasure that followed it took her to a place she had never explored before. Every movement of Mikey inside her, every time he squeezed her hips harder, brought her closer to the climax, one she knew would be unforgettable.

“God, Mikey… don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice shaking as she felt her body reach its limit.

And when he finally did, it was like a wave that washed over her, her back arching and her nails digging into the metal of the hood. Mikey kept moving, taking her to that point of no return, until they were both caught in the whirlwind of their desire, exhausted, but completely satisfied.

He didn't stop. He kept moving, taking her beyond what she thought she could take, until finally, with a deep growl, he let himself go too, spilling himself inside her as his body tensed with the intensity of his own release.

Mikey slowly pulled out of her, letting the cold air of the shop envelop his damp skin as Ana Sofia remained motionless on the hood of the car, her body still shaking. Her breathing was ragged, and every muscle in her body seemed to scream in unison, processing the impact of what had just happened. The coldness of the metal contrasted with the burning of her skin, reminding her that she was completely exposed, both physically and emotionally.

Without losing his characteristic calm, he walked over to a nearby table. He grabbed one of the rags he usually used to clean grease and oil from tools and carelessly passed it over his member, cleaning himself almost mechanically. He watched Ana Sofia out of the corner of his eye, her figure still stretched out over the vehicle, her legs slightly apart and her skirt lifted around her hips, revealing the marks of his hands and the trace of what they had shared.

Ana Sofia closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. Her mind was filled with images, with sensations. Mikey's strength, the control he exerted, the way he had taken her to the edge and then one step beyond. Her body felt heavy, almost as if it didn't belong to her, but at the same time there was something deeply liberating about that feeling. It was as if every barrier she had built up over the years had been broken in that moment.

Suddenly, a sharp blow, a slap to the cheek, snapped her out of her trance. It wasn't hard, but it was enough to send an electric buzz through her skin. Her eyes snapped open, meeting Mikey's figure, now in front of her, a crooked smile on his face.

"Wake up," he murmured in a deep voice, but loaded with a provocation that made her shudder.

Before she could process his words, Mikey took her face in both hands and tilted her back slightly. Without giving her time to react, her lips were invaded by the warmth of his member that insistently sought entry. The force of the intrusion made her let out a muffled moan, but she didn't pull away. On the contrary, her hands instinctively moved to his thighs, looking for a foothold as he continued to dominate her.

Mikey, his hips slightly tilted forward, watched every expression that crossed Ana Sofia's face. The contrast between initial confusion and acceptance was like a spark that further ignited his animal instinct. His fingers tangled in her messy hair, guiding her movements as she gave in with a mix of defiance and surrender.

Ana Sofia closed her eyes, letting the sensations wash over her. Every time he moved inside her mouth, she felt the control return, not to her, but to him. It was a total invasion, both physically and mentally, but there was nothing inside her that wanted to stop him.

“That’s it,” Mikey growled, his voice husky and low as he watched his cock disappear between her lips. The wet sound filled the space, mixing with their labored breathing and their still-rapid heartbeats. “Look how you look… exactly how you should be.”

Mikey's words made her open her eyes, meeting his gaze fixed on her. There was something in his dark eyes that held her captive, as if he were staring straight into her soul, claiming her without the need for words. Without thinking, her hands began to move, caressing his thighs as she felt the rough texture of his jeans against her bare skin.

The hood of the car, cold and hard, continued to support her body as Mikey set the pace. Each thrust was deliberate, an assertion of power that resonated within them both. But even in that moment of complete submission, Ana Sofia knew she was no mere spectator. There was something in her gaze, in the way she challenged him even as she pleasured him, that kept that unbreakable spark alive within her.

Finally, Mikey tugged her hair firmly, tilting her head back. Their breathing mingled in the heavy air of the workshop, as he looked at her with a smile full of satisfaction and unspoken promises. “I’m not done with you, lady,” he said, his tone more warning than declaration.

Thank you for reading this story. I would love to know how it made you feel. Leave me your vote and tell me in the comments. ❤️ I always enjoy reading you.