He let out a wrecked laugh. “Too much.”
That was all the encouragement I needed. I leaned forward, palms braced on his pecs, and set the pace, rising and falling, grinding down until sparks danced across my skin. He tried to thrust up, to take the rhythm back, but I pressed him flat with a smirk.
“Not this time, coach.” I panted, breathless but grinning.
“I’m dying here, kitten.” His thumbs slid up to stroke circles across my nipples, and I nearly lost it right there.
“Shut up, you love it.”
I did it again. And again, rising and falling on his cock with slow, deliberate movements, relishing the way his jaw went slack and his breath stuttered.
I rode him harder, faster, nails digging into his muscles. The sounds of skin slapping, our ragged breathing, his filthy praise, they all blurred into something primal.
“Fuck, Dani,” he growled. “You’re going to wreck me.”
“Good.” My voice was sharp, breathless, shaking with need. “I want you wrecked.”
His head tipped back against the pillows, veins straining in his neck as he tried and failed to hold back. I leaned forward until my warm breath fanned his neck.
“I want you to remember me every time you breathe.”
I bit him.
Like a fucking vampire. And apparently, Brooks had a thing for undead bloodsuckers because that was all it took to send him over the edge.
His hands flew to my hips, dragging me down harder, rougher, while his cock pulsed deep inside me. He cursed loud and raw, hips bucking once, twice before he spilled inside me, hot and endless.
I collapsed onto him, both of us panting, slick with sweat. Wrapping me up in those big, tattooed arms, he held me there like he had no intention of letting me go.
He pressed his lips to my temple, still breathless, still trembling beneath me. “Fuck, kitten,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Round one goes to you.”
I laughed weakly against his throat, still trying to catch my breath. “Round one?”
His hand slid down my spine, settling on the curve of my ass, giving it a lazy squeeze. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”
I stayed draped over him, limp and buzzing, listening to the way his heartbeat thundered beneath my ear. His skin was warm and damp, carrying a salty scent mixed with the clean bite of soap and the faint spice of his cologne.
“You smell good.”
He chuckled low, his fingers combing lazily through my tangled hair. “You’re sex drunk. I smell like sweat and cum.”
“Mm, I think Gwenyth Paltrow makes a candle for that,” I muttered into his skin, smiling despite myself. “Besides, you should be thanking me for the privilege of licking my pussy.”
His laugh rumbled deeper. “Are you putting me in my place, kitten?”
“You know it.” I shifted just enough to look up at him, smirking when I caught the wrecked, satisfied look still painted across his face. “Consider it your penance.”
“For what?”
“For making me fall asleep at night thinking about you,” I said softly, more truth than I’d meant to give away.
Fucking hormones.
His grin softened into something dangerous, something that made my heart squeeze. He kissed me once, slow and deep, before laying us down and tugging the blanket over us both. He was still buried inside of me, and I had no doubt we were making a mess of his bed, but for once, I couldn’t be bothered to care.
Instead, I curled against him and relaxed.
Minutes ticked by in a haze of warmth, our breathing evening out, the world shrinking down to just this bed, this moment. His hand drifted lower, resting on the soft swell of my belly. I felt him go still, his thumb brushing back and forth like he was tracing something only he could see.
