I pound into her, the lounge chair groaning under every thrust, when I feel her start to tighten in that telltale way.
Not yet. I want this to last.
I pull out abruptly and she whimpers at the loss.
I grip my cock, slick with her, and slap it down hard against her swollen clit. Each wet smack makes her hips jerk and her breath hitch.
“Open,” I order.
She scrambles to turn her head toward me. I straddle the chair, knees on either side of her ribs, and feed my cock between her lips. She takes me deep instantly, moaning around the taste of us. I brace one hand on the cushion and reach back with the other, finding her clit again, rubbing fast, tight circles.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Suck me while I make this pretty pussy wetter. You’re so fucking good, Samantha. Look at you taking everything I give you.”
She moans louder around my cock, the vibration shooting straight through me. Her hips rock into my hand, greedy. I keep the rhythm merciless until her thighs start to tremble, then I pull out of her mouth with a wet pop and slide back down her body. I drive into her in one stroke and fuck her hard, chasing that edge.
“Donovan—” she gasps, nails clawing my back. “I’m gonna come, I’m?—”
“Do it,” I snarl. “Let me see it.”
I pull out at the last second and watch.
She explodes.
A hard, pulsing jet of liquid shoots from her, soaking my cock, my stomach, the cushion beneath us. Another follows, then another, until I’m drenched and staring in stunned awe. Nothing could have prepared me for the sheer force of it.
“Holy fucking hell,” I breathe.
She’s still shaking when I grip her hair and tug.
“Come here.”
She drops to her knees on the tile in front of me without hesitation, mouth open, eyes glassy. I fist my cock and pump twice before I come, thick ropes painting her lips, her chin, dripping down onto her tits. She licks what she can reach, humming like she loves the taste.
I haul her up by the arms, crash my mouth to hers, tasting both of us, and then I walk us straight backward into the pool.
We hit the warm water naked, my cum streaking down her skin as the water swallows us whole.
I cup her jaw as we float on the water, my thumb brushing her swollen lip. “Whatever game you think you’re playing with this family,” I say quietly, “be careful, Samantha. We bite.”
Her pulse jumps under my fingers.
“I’m not playing any games,” she whispers.
I hold her gaze for a long second.
“Good,” I say finally. “Keep it that way.”
11
SAMANTHA
Three daysof avoiding eye contact should qualify me for an Olympic sport.
I’ve perfected the art of entering rooms only after checking who’s already there. Mastered the timing of meals so I’m either early or late, never overlapping with all three of them at once. My book collection has tripled because the library is my safest hiding spot.
But I can’t hide from my phone.
Robert: Haven’t heard from you in days. What’s happening?
