Page 52 of Hard to Lose

I begin the same assault on the front of her that I did the line of her spine. Kisses. Licks. Scrapes of stubble. Down her abdomen, to her inner thigh, to the top of her mound.

The scent of her arousal clouds my mind, owns my actions. I put my hands on her knees and push them farther apart to give me better access.

Her moan is goddamn ecstasy as I lick my way down her slit and dip into her molten center. Her hand reaches for my hair again, and I welcome the pain as she pulls on it. Welcome, knowing what I’m doing to her as my tongue slides up and down, as I tease her clit before delving back down again.

She’s heaven.

She’s hell.

She’s the temptation I can’t resist and the torture I willingly put myself through, so I can watch her come undone before I get mine.

Her breaths grow shallow and her thighs tense against my shoulders as she comes. Her back arching, her hips writhing, her sex pulsing, my name a badge of success shouted from her lips.

I come up for air from my insatiable need to have my mouth on her and simply watch her come down from her high.

My body begs me to find mine.

But the moment is too much to rush.

She’s laid out on the table, hair fanned out against the green of it, her chest heaving, her eyes hazed with lust, and fuck if I’ve ever seen anything more stunning.

Our eyes meet and there’s a moment where we stare at each other. Even as I pull my shirt over my head, the connection remains, as if there’s something we’re both saying but are afraid to put words to.

She props herself up on her elbows and watches me as I undo my belt then unbutton my pants before shoving them to the floor. She keeps watching me as I jacket up and then run my hand over the length of my aching cock.

“Chase,” I whisper as I lean forward.

My lips meet hers. I can’t resist the need to kiss her anymore. Our kiss deepens as I take and demand. Fucking hell, the woman demands just as much in return.

And I can’t hold back. With her taste on my tongue and her scent owning my thoughts, I bury myself inside her without a second thought.

Our kiss stops.

Our muscles tense.

Our bodies freeze.

Her moan owns the room as she adjusts her hips around me.

The world stops for the briefest of moments, so that the only sound is the soft hum of music from the speakers above.

Then I begin to move at a frenzied, desperate pace, unable to get enough of her. Her tongue. Her lips. Her hands. Her skin. Her pussy.

This.

Just this.

Her.

Just her.

It’s all I can focus on as one of my hands holds the back of her neck and the other a cheek of her ass as we move together on the edge of the pool table.

My beginning is her end.

My exhale becomes her next inhale.

Her tightening around me is my goddamn endgame.