I groan against her mouth, my breath breaking. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
Her nails scrape down my back, again, a sharp bite of pain that only makes me drive into her harder. Her eyes flutter shut, and I yank her chin, forcing her gaze back to me. “Uh-uh, eyes on me, baby, I wanna see the moment I make you lose it again.”
Her moan tears through me, and I know she’s close. Her walls clench around me, fluttering, dragging me with her.
“That’s it,” I groan, my lips finding her jaw, her throat, biting down until she gasps. “Come for me again, dollface. Please give me your third. Fuck, let me feel it.”
Her body arches against mine, her cry muffled against my shoulder as she breaks, her pussy milking me so tight I nearly lose it.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—” My thrusts turn brutal, sloppy as my forehead crashes to hers as I lose control. “Inside you, gonna fill you up, baby. Fuck?—”
My orgasm rips through me, as I spill deep inside her with a guttural roar, hips jerking as I hold her tight against the mirror, burying myself to the hilt.
“Mine,” I whisper raggedly as my lips brush her temple, and I stay locked inside her. “You’re mine, Amelia. This isn’t fake for me. You’re my whole fuckin’ life, even if you don’t realize it.”
Her teeth sink into my shoulder, “Careful, Hayes,” she pants, her voice wrecked but biting. “Talk like that, and someone might think you actually mean it.”
I grin against her skin, breathless, ruined, and entirely hers. “Yeah, dollface,” I say, kissing her hard one more time. “That’s the fucking point.”
maverick
. . .
We land just after noon, and the crisp chill hits me the instant we step off the jet. Amelia’s hand is in mine, as her pretty green eyes canvass our surroundings. I want to abandon everything and take her exploring, but I have a busy schedule before the game tomorrow.
My team’s already at the hotel, so we head straight there. The lobby is all marble floors, high ceilings, and the low murmur of the front desk clerks checking in the rest of the Mustangs.
“Hayes, your room’s on the twentieth floor,” the concierge says, handing me two key cards. “Coach already sent your itinerary.”
I slide the cards into my pocket, tugging Amelia toward the elevator.
The doors slide shut, and the quiet lull of the elevator fills the space. She leans into me, voice soft enough to make my pulse jump.
“Suite?”
I smirk, stepping in close enough that my chest brushes her shoulder. “Suite,” I say, lowering my voice. “Privatebalcony. Perfect spot for you to distract me before I’m supposed to be serious.”
Her brow arches. “You’re never serious.”
I grin wider, tilting my head as I watch her. “Oh, I can be serious. Especially when it comes to you, dollface.”
She groans, tipping her head back dramatically. “God, you’re insufferable.”
I press a hand to the wall beside her head, caging her in just enough to watch her eyes flicker. “Funny,” I murmur, my mouth curving wickedly, “you don’t seem to mind when I’m deep inside you.”
Her cheeks flush, but she snaps back instantly, lips curving. “Maybe because that’s the only time you shut up.”
I laugh, leaning in so close my breath skates across her ear. “Oh, sweetheart, if you think I’m quiet when I’m fucking you, you’re not paying attention.”
She shoves at my chest, but her smirk betrays her. “You never stop talking. I’m shocked your mouth doesn’t get sore.”
I catch her wrist, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles, eyes locked on hers. “The only sore mouth I want is yours—from moaning my name all night.”
Her eyes widen, her lips part, and for a second, she’s speechless. Victory hums through my veins.
The elevator dings, doors sliding open, and I step back with a cocky grin. “Suite’s this way, wife. Try to keep up.”
The suite door clicks shut behind us, and Amelia walks in ahead of me, taking in the skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows like she’s not impressed, even though I can tell she is.
