He grabbed her legs and spread them apart and heard himself groan as he entered her again. She let out a guttural sound, her hands coming to pull his ass muscles and urge him deeper.
Scorching heat raged through him and he shook from the intensity as he plunged hard and deep, Sandy eagerly meeting each of his thrusts.
He lost control, bringing her legs to drape around his shoulders, getting deeper into her, so goddamned deep she yelled and twisted beneath him as her sex clutched and sucked him into a vortex of pleasure. He yelled out as his hips wildly struck against hers, pounding and ramming to the sound of slapping flesh and moans and groans, until she cried and a set of wild spasms overtook her, and he groaned and clutched her hips as he came, convulsing over her, so hard he feared he’d leave a bruise.
Panting, he pulled back slightly to look at her, and Sandy’s eyes were closed, her face flushed.
“You hungry?”
She made a noncommittal sound.
“I’ll take you out if you give me back my car keys.” He smirked at her.
“I thought you said I could keep everything if you spanked me.” She started to frown instantly.
He chuckled softly, then stopped smiling. “Did I hurt you, Sandy?”
She sat up in bed, fully naked. “It felt amazingly good.” Her cheeks, now a bright shade of red, called to his hands.
He ran his knuckles down her face. “Why did you keep everything though, Sandy? Why not give them back like my keys. Why so many?”
She puzzled him. She’d been abandoned and had been raised by her grandparents, he knew, her parents too young, bohemian…
She’d never really known love, he supposed, or acceptance, or maybe even had gifts for Christmas or for her birthday. He regretted to have asked all of a sudden, but she’d already dropped her gaze to the floor.
She was shaking. “It’s never enough. I…it never felt like enough. I could steal your entire apartment, I feel the urge to…it’s like I need to do it or I’ll die. But the strangest thing is…” She didn’t finish, walked naked across the hotel room to her suitcase and took them out, one by one, and handed them. “You know what, here. It’s why I brought them. I wanted to return everything to you. It’s the right thing to do…it’s probably what’s holding me back.”
Beckham hadn’t expected it, but he stood to hop back into his clothes and briskly denied the stuff she wanted to return. “Keep them,” he murmured, studying her petite body in her nakedness.
She was so beautiful and unguarded right now, her hair tousled like a curly black halo over her head, her tits reddened at the tips because of his mouth, her cunt still glistening from the pounding he gave her. He wondered what it would be like to have her around all the time—living in town. It’d be hell, asshole, so don’t even think it would be fun….
Her expression blackened, verging on annoyance when she kept extending out his things and he refused to take them. “Come on, please take them, Beckham,” she said, then, more saucily, “Stop looking at my boobs, you dick!”
He pulled his gaze up.
“Look,” she continued, flushed head to toe, “I don’t want to be this person. I don’t want to steal things from you. I don’t want to want you anymore.” Her eyes implored, and her words confused him.
“Ahh, see, we may have a problem cause I’m starting to very much enjoy being wanted by you,” he countered with a wolfish grin.
Flushing again in a way that pleased him immensely, she put up a brave front and shoved the whole bag with his things to his chest. “Nope. That right there,” she pointed on the bed where she’d been this delicious, dirty-talking innocent with her tight pussy and her innocent smile, driving him so insane he still felt half-stupid right now, “Was closure. Plus I’m not staying in Houston. I leave tomorrow.”
“What are you doing?” she demanded when Beckham started dressing her up by force.
“You said tomorrow. We still have today to fool around,” he said.
“But I—“
“Shh.” Beckham quieted her by pinching her lips shut and sending her a look. “You owe me.”
“So? I’m giving it all back now!”
“You still owe me interest.”
“You’re a fucking millionaire, geez!”
She complained, but she hated that, deep inside, she’d turned to gelatin. Not because he was inviting her out. The sex had left her feeling all deliciously used and the way Beckham gazed at her with those dark Gypsy eyes made her feel as though every second that passed by she was becoming more beautiful.
She didn’t know where Beckham drove to at first. She merely went with him on a taxi to get his car, which was still parked in his apartment, then she sat quietly as he drove a very fancy car that must cost more than her whole place in Florida, and then she tried to post a bored expression on her face like she’d ridden in these sorts of vehicles all her life.