Novel Full Chapter 1160 Truck
Chapter 1160: Chapter 1160 Truck
Tears of overwhelming pleasure pricked at the corners of Sabrina’s eyes as she clung to Ross, utterly undone.
Ross’s rhythm grew erratic, his breaths coming in harsh pants against her neck.
"Come for me one more time, baby," he growled, teeth grazing her shoulder. "Let me feel you milk me dry."
That was all it took. Sabrina shattered again, harder than before, her entire body seizing in ecstasy as she squirted one final, powerful time.
Ross followed her over with a deep, guttural groan, burying himself deep and pulsing inside her, filling her with heat.
They stayed locked together for long minutes afterward, trembling and breathless.
Ross finally collapsed half on top of her, face buried in her neck, pressing lazy kisses to sweat-damp skin.
Sabrina’s limbs felt like jelly, her heart racing, a dazed smile spreading across her face.
Eventually, he lifted his head, eyes dark and satisfied as they met hers.
"Best morning ever," he murmured, voice still rough.
Sabrina laughed weakly, fingers threading through his hair. "You’re going to kill me one of these days."
"Worth it," he said with a grin, nipping at her bottom lip. "And we’ve still got the whole day ahead."
She shivered at the promise in his tone, already feeling her body stir again despite the blissful exhaustion.
***
When Sabrina and Ross finally stepped out of his room, the afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky.
The air carried the scent of woodsmoke, grilled meat, and wildflowers from the nearby meadow.
Most of the group had already eaten lunch hours ago, but a few late stragglers still lingered around the central fire pit and the long communal tables.
The moment Ross’s tall frame appeared in the doorway—followed closely by Sabrina, her hand tucked possessively in his—the entire camp seemed to pause mid-motion.
Conversations faltered. Heads turned. Eyes widened.
Sabrina felt every stare like a physical touch. Her cheeks burned instantly.
She’d tried to make herself presentable: finger-combed her wild hair into a messy ponytail, splashed water on her face, and thrown on one of Ross’s huge flannel shirts over her shorts because most of her own clothes were still strewn across his floor.
But nothing could hide the evidence.
Her lips were swollen and pink, her neck bore faint marks that the collar couldn’t quite cover, and she walked with a subtle, satisfied sway that screamed exactly what she’d been doing all night—and all morning.
Ross, by contrast, looked infuriatingly smug and unbothered.
He moved with that effortless, predatory confidence that parted crowds without effort.
His hand rested low on Sabrina’s back, fingers splayed in quiet possession as he guided her toward the food table.
The whispers erupted almost immediately.
Someone who was perched on a log with a cup of coffee, was the first to break the silence.
She leaned toward her two friends, voice pitched just low enough to carry.
"Holy hell. Look at her. Someone got absolutely destroyed last night—in the best possible way."
Another nearly choked on her water.
"No kidding. Sabrina is glowing like she swallowed a lantern. And blushing so hard I’m surprised she hasn’t combusted yet."
One woman grinned wickedly, eyes flicking between Sabrina and Ross.
"That man looks like he spent the night conquering territory. Handsome bastard. I bet she couldn’t walk straight this morning."
Across the fire, the others exchanged glances and burst into muffled giggles. "Did you hear anything?" One whispered. "Because I swear the wind carried some... sounds... around dawn."
"I heard plenty," one other replied, fanning herself dramatically. "Enough to need a cold dip in the river."
The cluster of women dissolved into hushed laughter, watching shamelessly as Ross pulled out a bench for Sabrina and settled beside her, his thigh pressed firmly against hers.
He piled a plate high for her—thick slices of venison, fresh flatbread, roasted vegetables, a heap of berries—then leaned in to murmur something low in her ear.
Whatever it was made Sabrina duck her head and bite her lip, her blush deepening to crimson.
"We are absolutely interrogating her later," one declared, folding her arms.
"Every filthy detail. Positions, duration, how many times she saw God—I want it all."
"Down to the last inch," another agreed with a wicked grin.
An hour later, after the meal had wound down and people began drifting back to chores and Sabrina slipped away to her old tent.
Today was the day she officially moved into Ross’s space.
No more separate sleeping bags, no more pretending.
She needed to pack her few belongings: clothes, journal, the small carved wooden box her mother had given her, a couple of books.
She ducked inside the familiar canvas shelter, kneeling to roll up her bedroll and stuff shirts into her pack. The quiet was a relief after all the staring.
It didn’t last.
The tent flap was yanked open with dramatic flair, and suddenly the small space was packed with bodies.
"Oh no you don’t," someone announced, dropping cross-legged in front of the entrance and effectively blocking escape.
"You’re not slinking off to play house with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerously Endowed without giving us the full report."
Sabrina froze, a pair of socks dangling from her hand.
She looked up slowly to find six eager faces staring back, eyes bright with shameless curiosity.
Another woman plopped down beside her, shoulder to shoulder. "Start from the beginning. When did it finally happen?"
"How big is he, really?" One blurted, leaning forward.
"Did he make you scream?" Another asked, wide-eyed. "Because we heard things."
"Multiple times?" One woman added eagerly.
"Positions? How long did you go? Did he go down on you first or just—" the last one clapped a hand over her own mouth, shocked at her own boldness, but the others howled with laughter.
Sabrina dropped the socks, buried her face in her hands, and groaned. "You guys are literally the worst."
"The worst best friends," one corrected, scooting closer until Sabrina was completely hemmed in.
Another nudged her gently. "Come on, Sabrina. You’re practically floating. Spill."
Sabrina peeked through her fingers, saw the circle of excited, supportive, utterly shameless faces, and felt a helpless laugh bubble up.
Her blush hadn’t faded—if anything, it deepened at the memories flooding back.
"Fine," she said at last, voice muffled behind her hands. "But you’re all terrible influences."
The women whooped triumphantly, settling in more comfortably, ready for the long haul.
Sabrina sighed, knowing full well it would be hours—maybe even until sunset—before she made it back to Ross’s arms.