The stroke of his hand resumes, faster, harder, his knuckles blanching around his length. I lower toward his mouth and rest my palms on his chest, relishing the feel of flexing muscle and sparse hair beneath my fingers. My legs spread wide in the awkward position—awkward only because his shoulders are so broad and his biceps are bouncing against the insides of my knees as he works his cock.
The moment my pussy touches his lips, he groans. I gasp and lift up. But his mouth chases, locks on with diabolical suction, and his tongue slides through my folds.
“Ohhhh, fuck!” My head falls back. My legs weaken, and my entire body liquefies.
I sink against his mouth, my ribs expanding with indrawn breaths and my fingers curling against his chest. He mumbles something, his lips strong and firm, drawing every thought and sensation to the center of my body where he unfurls a maddening ripple of ecstasy with his tongue.
When he groans again, garbling his words, I raise slightly to hear him.
“You taste so damn good. I need you to grind.” He bites my thigh, harder this time. “Hurry. I’m barely hanging on, and I’m not coming until you do.”
My gaze travels down the length of his twitching body. Every brick of muscle is engaged. A sheen of perspiration forms on his skin. And his cock…that gorgeous swell of flesh and blood looks painfully choked in the shackle of his hand.
I’ve been carrying around so much sexual tension over the past month it feels like a pressure-cooker inside me. My limbs are loose. My skin is fevered, and my pussy’s gushing with arousal. So as I relax all my weight and begin to grind, my orgasm grips me instantly, brutally, and without warning. I come so fucking hard I scream without breath, every muscle in my body shaking with the explosion.
His hand loses rhythm, jerking once, twice, his legs and arms shaking. A long deep moan vibrates against my overstimulated tissues, and I lift just in time to hear it morph into a guttural shout.
“Fuck, Laynee. Fuuuuuck!” His body goes rigid, and ropes of come stream over his hand and abs.
I tremble at the glorious sight and roll to his side, boneless and fighting for air. He climbs over me, mouth parted, chest heaving, and attacks my mouth. The tangy flavor of my arousal slides over my tongue as he kisses me hard and deep, with no less passion than before his release.
Without breaking the kiss, he slips a hand between us and wipes the semen from his stomach. Then he spreads it across mine, up my chest, and around my throat. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
His lips ghost along my jaw and dip to my neck, lingering there before lowering to my breast.
“Why did you do that?” I arch beneath the swirl of his tongue against my nipple.
“What? This?” He swipes at a white smear on my chest and slips his fingers into my mouth.
I lick the salty essence from his skin and briefly close my eyes. “Yeah, that.”
His hand combs through my hair, and his dark eyes fill my view. “I’ve fantasized about coming on your beautiful skin…among a hundred other things.” He kisses my lips. “We should go back to sleep or those other things are going to happen tonight.” He glances at the clock. 2:23 AM. “Today.” He flashes a grin that turns me into shivery mush.
“Come on.” He rolls back onto his side of the bed and turns off the light. Straightening the pillows, he stretches out on his back and taps his chest. “Get your sexy ass over here.”
Covered in his come, I feel dirty and tired and fucked in the best way possible. And that’s what worries me, but I’ll save that worry for later. Right now, I want nothing more than to be a normal woman, sleeping in the arms of man who cares about me.
Once I’m in the position he wants, with my body curled around his and my head tucked beneath his chin, he says, “I’m going to L.A. with you tomorrow.”
We’ve been arguing about this trip for a few days. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want me to go without him.
“I’ve been talking to your security team.” He strokes a hand through my hair. “I’ll stand in as one of your bodyguards. No one will know about our relationship.”
Our relationship. Those words fill me with both longing and dread. “What’s your motivation to go with me?” I recall something he said in passing about opening another combat sports school. “Are you hoping to cozy up with my contacts and pitch your business ventures?”
“Yes.”
I stiffen as my old insecurities flood in.
“Laynee.” He pulls me closer against his body. “If I meet someone who’s interested in me, it could be the break I’m looking for.”