He turns ravenous in a heartbeat.
One hand grabs both of mine, pinning them over my head while he holds me up with his other arm.
Clay starts to pump in and out of me, long, slow strokes that leave me aching and breathless.
When he strokes in, I’m so tight, too tight.But the second he’s gone, all I want is for him to fill me again.
Is that what love is?Not comfort and predictability, but throbbing on the edge of freefall?
My hips start to rise to meet his.
He crushes his mouth to mine, lifting me higher so our faces line up.
“You close?”he asks.
“Yes,” I pant against his lips.
“Want to hear you scream.”
“The entire floor will hear.”
“Then make it extra loud.For Miles.”
I laugh, and he grins as if I’ve given him the best gift in the world.
I slip a hand between us, playing with my clit.He takes my breast in his hand, twisting my nipple.
I can’t hold on.
Pleasure splits me, and a low moan erupts from my throat.His name follows, and he fists my hair and drags my mouth to his, swallowing my sounds as he thrust into me, fast and furious.
Then he’s coming too, a wrenching release that rips through his hard body.
CLAY
It’s late when we make it to the bed.
First time is against the windows.
The second is on the chair in the corner.
The third is somewhere between the minifridge and the floor.
I carry her to the king-sized mattress, tugging down the bedspread to lay her between the sheets.
I shift over her, concerned.“You okay?”
I tip her chin toward me so I can look in her eyes.
They crinkle at the corners.“If I didn’t already have your jersey, I’d have to buy it.”
I chuckle, a feeling that reaches my toes.“Every road game, I want pictures of you in it.No panties.Just like this.”
“If I’m naked except for the jersey, I might be too distracted to take pictures.”
She nestles against my shoulder, and I twist a piece of her hair around my finger.It’s pink against the black ink of my tattoos.
I like this.
