“And I can tell you right now, that’s never happening again.” He voiced those words with such conviction, she believed him. “God, I missed you. For future reference, I don’t give a shit if you come down with the plague, you’re not keeping me away from you again. It killed me knowing you were sick and I couldn’t take care of you.”
She was touched by the thought that he’d want to care for her if she was sick.
“It’s the playoffs,” she reminded him.
“Refer back to the words ‘don’t give a shit,’” he said.
Best. Boyfriend. Ever.
Boyfriend.
McKenna repeated that word a few more times in her head, letting it sink in deep. “I want you.”
He chuckled. “Soon.”
When he returned his attention to her breasts, she groaned…then moaned. Because, fuck, he was good at that.
McKenna sought out her own relief, shifting her hips and dragging her slit over his cock, cursing the clothing barrier between them. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she pushed him away, her hands flat against his shoulders.
He started to draw her back, but relented when she dropped off the couch, kneeling on the floor between his outstretched thighs.
“Jesus,” he breathed, as she unbuckled and unzipped his jeans.
Tank lifted his hips, helping as she tugged the denim as well as his boxer briefs down to his ankles. He toed his shoes off, then finished shedding the pants on his own.
McKenna pushed on the inside of his knees, creating more space for herself as she reached for his dick, wrapping her hand around it. He really was extremely well-endowed, so managing to take much of him inside her mouth would be a challenge.
Her reticence must have shown, because Tank grasped the back of her neck, tipping her face up to his with his thumb under her jaw. “Just the head,” he said.
She frowned, confused, until Tank shifted forward, sitting on the edge of the couch. He placed his large palm over hers on his shaft, guiding his cock to her mouth.
McKenna swirled her tongue over the head, tasting the precome there. Then she did as he said, taking the head of his dick inside. Even just that part was more than a mouthful.
Tank began stroking his cock, controlling her hand as well, jerking himself off as she sucked the head of his dick like he’d done to her nipples. The way he groaned, murmuring praise under his breath, gave her the confidence that she was turning him on, doing it right.
Tank started to stroke faster, so McKenna used her free hand to cup his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Fuck,” he cursed. “You keep doing that and I’m going to come.”
She didn’t have a problem with that, but her mouth was too full for her to say so. Instead, she just moaned her approval and sucked him harder.
“Goddammit, Mouse,” he said, releasing his cock and taking her ponytail in his fist. He used that grip to push her head lower on his dick, brushing against the back of her throat once, twice, three times before pulling her off completely.
“Hey,” she complained, determined to push him over the edge with her mouth.
He pressed his thumb firmly against her lips, cutting off her argument.
“Climb on top of me,” he demanded.
On second thought, they could always finish the blowjob later.
McKenna quickly scrambled from the floor. Before she could reclaim her previous position, Tank reached for the button on her jeans, managing to get her completely naked in seconds.
She climbed back onto his lap, reclaiming his cock. Lifting, she guided him to her opening, then slid down slowly, shuddering with pleasure as she took him all the way inside.
Tank gripped her hips, and his head fell back against the couch cushions as he moaned low in this throat.
She started to lift once more, needing all the friction, but Tank’s fingers tightened and he held her in place, not allowing her to move.
