The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2) - Page 170

“God, I must have dreamed this a thousand times,” he murmurs, taking bites of my neck, my chest, soothing the sting with his lips before bringing his hungry mouth back to mine.

I pump him in my hand as he kisses me with a surety we both share.

Some things have to be learned over time, but the only thing I know for sure is, this man and I belong together. All I can do is be thankful at this point for every trial that led us back to each other. Though our timing was horribly off, fate made us so in the form of a little boy, the spitting image of his father, and our guiding light.

The minute my back touches the mattress, he uses the movement to thrust against me, our collective gasps filling the room. Eyes locked, he rears back, before lining himself up and slowly pushing inside me. I grip his shoulders, widening my legs as he fills me slowly, inch by inch.

“Fucking worth it,” he murmurs. “Every fight, every struggle, the wait, the pain, the ache, loving you, needing you, wanting you, missing you—all of it—worth it to get us to this point, right here.”

Rearing back, he keeps us connected, eyes and lips, before filling me fully. My back bows off the mattress as he draws back, and thrusts in again so deep he steals my breath. We’re somewhere between fucking and making love, and all I can do is moan out his name.

His eyes devour me, leaving nothing untouched until he again pulls back, his stare fixed on where we connect.

We’ve deprived ourselves of each other for so long, in more ways than one, and this is an act of completion on the same level. There’s no turning back. I don’t want to know what life is like without Troy Jenner, ever again.

“Troy,” I whimper as he pins my hands and thrusts into me, the headboard thumping against the wall.

“Look at us,” he growls as he drives in again. I revel in the feel, in the filthy and beautiful sight of us connecting. It’s then we go feral, tongues tasting, hands exploring, skin slapping, slick while he fucks me wildly, and I match his thrusts. After a few deep drives, he pulls back and places one hand on my stomach the other beneath my ass and flips me so easily a giggle comes out of me, until he steals it away by driving in deep as I lay on my stomach. He pins me to the mattress, his hands on my hips as he rolls into me, so deep all I can do is cry out his name.

“Goddamn,” he grunts out as I bask in the feel of his weight on my back, soaking up each second beneath him. Lips latched to my neck, he buries himself, thrusting up as my orgasm hits me like a tidal wave. I come so hard, my voice fails me mid-cry as the shudders run through me.

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to lose it,” he draws out, turning me back over, cupping my heaving chest. “Beautiful,” he says watching my reaction to him before lifting my leg to his hip and pushing back in, tilting his pelvis for precision. “This time I watch you come,” he beckons, pumping in and out, in and out, massaging my breasts, tweaking my nipples, covering my stomach in a warm caress. His eyes

convey so much as he keeps his thrusts deep, pinpointing where I need him before licking the pad of his finger and pressing it against my clit. I crest on the verge as he rolls into his fucking before I detonate. Bliss ripples through me as my toes curl. His eyes flare when he feels me tightening around him again, coming apart.

His thrusts pick up until he empties inside me, his body convulsing as he exhales a loud groan. I circle his neck with my arm, stroking the sweaty hair at his temple as we both try and catch our breath.

“Worth it,” I murmur as he caresses my shoulder with his thumb.

“So worth it,” he whispers back. “You and Dante, you’ve redefined my dreams. My everything is yours.”

I smile so wide, I know I’ll feel it tomorrow, and a new and brilliant smile lifts his lips. “Are we going to tell Dante?” He pulls back to weigh my expression. “That we’re together?”

“Yes.”

Relief covers him, and he smiles before resuming his position on my chest. “Thank you.” His lips do the rest of his thanking as he positions himself between my thighs.

“Already?”

He rakes his bottom lip. “How much time do we have left?”

“Forever?”

“I can work with that,” he says, positioning himself and slowly pushing into me while we both watch.

Four hours later…

I scramble toward the headboard until I’m dragged to the end of the bed by my ankles. I’m covered in sweat from head to foot even after two showers. I’ve never in my life been so exhausted.

“Troy, I can’t. I cannot possibly have more sex. Please,” I giggle as he flips me to face him. “I can no longer negotiate.”

“Then I win by default. Shortest argument we’ve ever had. And now, finally,” he says, giving me a devilish grin, “we get to have make up sex.”

Two hours later…

“No. No. I beg of you. Please, Troy. Please. I love you, but I can’t, Oh, God!”

One hour later…

Tags: Kate Stewart The Underdogs Romance
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