She was dripping down my chin now, probably soaking the sheets beneath us. I didn’t care; I wanted her messy.
I wanted her wrecked.
I slid two fingers into her soaked pussy, curling them deep to stroke her G-spot. She cried out. My other palm kept up the steady, stinging rhythm on her ass.
Spank. Lick. Spank. Suck.
Each one made her whimper around my cock.
The honey dust had turned her slick heat into something obscene—sweet and sticky, dissolving on my tongue with every lick.
Every time she moaned around my cock, I felt it in my spine; every time I groaned against her pussy, she ground down harder.
I couldn’t get enough.
“Fuck, your pussy’s so good,” I growled against her, my voice lost in her folds. “Keep it up, baby. I want to taste you on my skin for days.”
When her thighs started to shake in earnest, I knew she was close.
I added a third finger and pumped faster, thumb circling her clit in time with my tongue. She rolled her hips desperately and sucked me harder.
I delivered one more punishing smack to her ass and that was it. Her pussy fluttered around my fingers in hot, rhythmic waves, flooding my mouth as she came with a muffled scream around my cock.
That was all it took to send me soaring over the edge.
I bucked up into her throat once, twice, helplessly chasing the wet suction of her mouth while I devoured her pussy like a man starved. And like the good girl she was, Bella swallowed every drop, milking me until we were both spent and breathless.
I turned and pulled her into my chest, both of us sticky with honey dust and sweat. I didn’t care; I needed to feel her. The room was quiet except for our breathing and the soft rustle of sheets as we tangled together, her head tucked under my chin, one of her legs thrown over mine.
If her pussy was heaven,thiswas fucking paradise.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Batch number three is a fucking masterpiece.”
She laughed. “I appreciate the celebrity endorsement.”
Her delicate fingers traced lazy circles on my chest, right through the smeared powder. The design on her thumb made me chuckle.
“That’s new. How did you—”
“I didn’t,” she said quietly, voice a little sleepy. “Xan did. They’re a wiz with nail art.”
“The honeypot suits you.”
“Thanks.” She was silent for a beat. “So . . . spring training.”
“Day after tomorrow.”
She tilted her head back to look up at me. “Are you excited?”
“In that new season, fresh start kind of way, sure. But honestly?” I let my hand drift down her spine, settling on the curve of her hip. “I’d be a lot happier if I were sharing a bed with you every night, rather than sharing a condo with six sweaty dudes who argue over the right kind of toilet paper.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey, what is it?”
“It’s just, you’re going to be so far away, surrounded by the guys and . . . other women.”
“Woah.” I shifted so we were face-to-face, tilting her chin up with two fingers. “There is no one else, Bella, not a single girl in Arizona—or, fuck, anywhere—who’s going to turn my head. I’ve waited too long for you to fuck this up over some spring-training fling.”
Her lips curved, but the worry lingered. “You say that now, but five weeks apart is a long time.”
