“Scotty—”
“Yeah,” I rasp, thrusting into her while my fingers circle her clit. “You’re gonna come on my cock this time, Princess, and I’m gonna feel every fucking second of it.”
Her thighs tighten around my hand as I thrust again. I’m slow at first because I like to take my time and feel how perfectly she fits around me, but it never lasts long.
Especially when she’s this close.
Her chest rises, her head falls back, and when I feel the little flutters around my cock, I know she’s there.
She calls out my name just as her pussy clenches around me, gripping me so tight I have to brace my hand on her hip to keep from losing control. My fingers work her clit in tight circles, in sync with my thrusts, every movement sending little shivers through her.
She’s still shaking around me, trembling through the aftershocks, her pussy fluttering with every tiny movement I make, and I swear to god I can feel every pulse of it.
“Fuck…” I groan against her shoulder, tightening my arm around her waist. “You’re gonna kill me.”
She’s so wet, so warm, still gripping me even as she melts into my chest. I try to breathe through it, try to hold it together, but it’s hard to do when her pussy pulses with every thrust.
“You feel—” I choke on my own breath, hips stuttering, “—so fucking good. I can’t—fuck—I can’t.”
I lose it.
I thrust into her once, slow and deep, and my voice breaks.
“Fuck—Princess—”
I spill into her in hard, pulsing waves, clutching her tight against me as my release hits, every muscle straining with it.
I ride it out against her skin, panting, shaking, still kissing her shoulder, her neck, any place my mouth can reach. My hips finally slow, then stop, but I stay inside her, holding her close, breathing her in.
I ease out of her carefully, kissing her shoulder before I slide out of bed. “Don’t move,” I whisper, brushing her thigh. “I’ve got you.”
She makes a soft, sleepy sound as I head to the bathroom. I run a washcloth under warm water, wring it out, and come back to the bed where she’s curled on her side in my shirt.
She keeps her eyes closed as I gently clean her up and then toss the cloth into my laundry basket.
Once I’m done, I pull the blanket up over both of us and settle behind her.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I sigh into her neck. “Who the hell keeps calling? Is it your parents? Are they still coming tonight?”
“They’re coming, but it isn’t them.” She exhales, embarrassed. “It’s just my agent.”
Yeah. My girlfriend has an agent now. After the second performance of the national anthem, she started to get so many calls, she needed someone to vet opportunities for her. Hence why I relish every moment I can get with her now.
“What does she want this time?” I brush my thumb along her waist. “The Catfish aren’t looking for a new singer during the stretch are they?”
“No.” She shrugs and snuggles deeper into me, her cheek resting right over my heartbeat. “A couple of Broadway producers want to talk through an opportunity. I figured I’d wait until after your game today to look at it.”
“You’re kidding? You’re ignoring Broadway?”
She sighs. “No. I’m just protecting what’s important to me right now, and that’s honoring my commitments with the Covey Crushers.”
Something warm spreads through my chest—pride, love, all of it tangled up. I slide my hand to her hip and pull her back against me, kissing the corner of her cheek, slow and lingering.
“Princess,” I murmur against her skin, “I am so fucking proud of you. You know that, right?”
She turns her head just enough to meet my eyes, hers soft in the dim light. “Yeah,” she whispers, touching my jaw. “And I’m proud of you too.”
