Page 66 of Hard to Love

I glance down and meet her eyes just in time to see her slide two fingers in her mouth before moving them beneath the yellow triangle of her bikini bottoms. Her eyes flutter shut as her hand begins to move. But it’s the moan she emits when she sucks me into her mouth again, the one that vibrates from the crest of my cock all the way down to my balls, that has every single one of my nerve endings singing with pleasure.

She slides her lips and her free hand up and down the length of me, each twist of her hand sending shockwaves through me.

“And when I’m close, as I’m bent over your desk”—her breath is labored as her own fingers work her up— “you’ll have to clamp a hand over my mouth because I’ll come so hard that your client will hear.”

She licks her tongue around the ridge of my cock before sucking on just the tip. My body revolts, begging me to come now and not wait for the velvet of her pussy.

I hit the back of her throat again, and I fight the urge to hold the back of her head still so I can fuck her mouth until I’m good and empty.

“God, you taste so incredible.” Then she sucks me back into her mouth and moans around my cock.

And that’s it. That’s my undoing. Her praise. Her tongue. Her fingering herself.

I fist a hand in her hair and pull her head back so she’s forced to look up at me. “You better stop or I’m going to fuck you hard and fast,” I growl.

A coy smile plays on her parted lips. “I’m counting on it.” And this time, when she pulls me between her two lips, she keeps her eyes locked on mine as her cheeks hollow out and she sucks.

My hand tightens and it takes everything I have to jerk my cock from her mouth and not finish.

“You,” I say. A smile turns up the corners of her lips as my cock waits just inches from her mouth.

“What are you going to do about it?”

I’m hauling her up to her feet within seconds and crashing my mouth against hers. I can’t think of anything but the end game. I can’t focus on anything else but her.

We crash into the chaise lounge.

“This is just sex.” She laughs.

We bump against the doorway into the house.

“Just sex,” I agree against her lips.

We knock something off a table.

“Then give me the fucking sex.”

We don’t stop until we’re rolling around on the floor of the great room like we’re fighting for each other’s air.

There is nothing gentle between us. Our movements are spurred on by a mixture of need and greed and desire and demand.

We bump heads and tables as we gasp for more. We scrape nails over bare skin and dig fingers into soft flesh. And it feels like fucking forever by the time I go get a condom and put it on, but the minute I do, we roll over one more time until Stevie is on top.

Her eyes meet mine as she rises up onto her knees, lines up my cock to her center, and then ever so slowly sinks down onto me.

It’s the only time we slow down. The only time we feel like we’re catching our breaths even though it feels like we stop breathing.

And then she begins to move. To ride me with a writhe of her hips and the press of her ass. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as her head falls back.

She’s fucking gorgeous. With a flush to her cheeks. With some of her hair falling over her shoulder and onto her chest—but not enough, so her dark pink nipples peek through. With the feel of her wrapped around me, milking me with each and every movement.

She rocks over me, one hand exposing her clit while the other rubs it back and forth. She begins to move a little faster as her fingers speed up and she grows wetter.

I can see when her orgasm hits her. Every part of her tenses around me—thighs, pussy, hands—as she stills and a broken moan falls from her parted lips.

The sight of her, the feel of her, the sound of her . . . all three push and pull on everything inside of me until my breath is coming shorter, my hands are urging her hips harder, and my hips are pumping up into her.

“Stevie,” I groan. It’s all I can utter, all I can think of, as I empty myself.