Speed King (Men of Action 1)

“Oh my God, don’t stop,” she pleads, her nails digging into my shoulder blades.

My hips swivel twice, my dick scraping her smooth, slick flesh. “You are so fucking tight.”

“Love… your… ring…” Her stammers turn into cries as she flies apart. I watch until my stamina snaps and I erupt. My mouth goes to her neck, sucking hard and groaning through the power throbbing in my veins. Pulse after pulse, I release into her tight heat.

Never in this lifetime will that sound and sight get old. Watching, feeling, hearing her come alive while impaled on my cock. The way she reacts from the second I slide inside her until she’s writhing and moaning has become my addiction.

I glide in and out, letting her catch her breath and enjoying these last few moments alone for the day.

“Don’t let me go. My limbs aren’t working.”

I smile into her skin, shutting off the water and walking her to the vanity. She helps me dry us off, and I wrap the towel around her.

“I could be a very rich woman if I sold pictures of this right here. People would pay big bucks.” Her fingers trail down my shoulders, arms, abdomen, and back up to my chest. She traces the numbers on the newest numerical addition to the dates already there.

Doesn’t matter I was just inside her; my dick reacts to the appreciative glint in her gaze as she ogles my chest. She licks her bottom lip before pulling it through her teeth. “So damn sexy.”

The rasp in her voice is all it takes. I’m fully hard again.

“I’m so lucky.” Her knuckle grazes lower, circling my crown.

“Playing with fire, baby.”

“You got to have all the fun this morning.”

“It was out of my control. My dick has a mind of its own. It’s addicted to your pussy.”

“It wasn’t your cock that woke me up.”

“My mouth has an addiction to your taste.”

“I have my own addiction, too.” She eases off the vanity, sliding down my body with her purpose clear.

“We can’t.” The words score my throat.

Her tongue darts out, licking the length and teasing my ring. “Fuckin A’.”

“I’ll be quick.”

“Your—”

“Shhhh.” Cool breath blows on the tip, and my argument dies.

“Your stamina is impressive this morning.” She takes me perfectly into her mouth and my chin drops, watching her take me as far as she can. Her tongue rolls around my flesh, and by impulse, my hips flex. When she swallows, she sucks me all the way, hitting the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” I hiss, my fingers threading through her hair.

She hums her approval, working me faster.

Her fingers tickle my balls, rolling them lightly, increasing her suction.

A knot coils low in my gut, my muscles straining not to pump mercilessly and fuck her face.

My phone blares with an alert, and my blood runs cold. “Goddammit.” I want to fucking lose my mind.

She slowly and expertly pulls her mouth away, kissing the slit. “Looks like we have company.”

A growl rumbles from my throat.

She rolls on her toes, bringing her mouth to mine. “I’m addicted to your taste, too. As soon as these people leave, it’s my turn to have the fun.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do about my raging dick?”

She bites her lip, regret flickering in her features. “Think about Grandma Lucy invading your house in a few minutes.”

That does it. The image of her grandmother flashes in my head, and the tightness in my balls shrivels fast.

“Jesus, babe. That wasn’t cool. “

“It was the only thing that came to mind.”

“Your grandma is a cockblocker.”

“Dare you to tell her that.” She brushes past me with an amused shimmer in her eyes.

I follow her, dressing in my running clothes quickly. “I’ll go let them in. You finish getting ready.”

She shoots me a grateful grin and yanks a dress over her head.

All the women are coming up the steps when I open the door. Jewls, Rowan, and Ginger followed by Mom, Amanda, Grandma Lucy, and Aunt Tina.

Every woman’s arms are loaded with bags.

“Holy shit, what’s happening here?”

“We’re planning a wedding, dear.” Mom swooshes past.

I take the bags from Grandma Lucy, allowing them to pass, and trail behind them to the living room.

“I’ll set up the food samples in the kitchen,” Mom declares.

The monitor on the table dings with another arrival. This time Robbie’s Suburban drives up the road.

“That’s Ember and Presley. They may need help,” Jewls instructs. “They are bringing a platform.”

“Platform?”

“For Harley’s dress fitting.”

I go to see what they may need, catching Finn and Robbie with them.

“Thought you could use some help today,” Robbie calls over his shoulder, lifting the hatch.

“Help with what?”

“You moving Harley’s things to storage?”

“Yeah, but it isn’t much. Already moved the furniture.”

“Thought Finn and I could lend a hand since the other guys are on shift.”

“That really what you want to do on your Saturday?”