Beauty and the Baller

Her fingertips graze my arm. “If you’re into choking, I need to know.”

“And if I am?”

“Then I only ask that you let me do you first.”

I chuckle as I lean in and take her lips gently, skimming over that lush bottom one, stretching it with my teeth. “I’d never hurt you, but someday . . . maybe . . .”

“Possibilities are endless,” she murmurs. “Now make a meal of me.” Propping her feet up, she leans back on the green table.

I inhale at the image she presents. So willing. So hot.

I swat her ass, and she glares at me.

“Just checking,” I chuckle and lean over and kiss her softly, then trail down her throat, sucking on the skin.

“Ronan . . .” She curls her hands in my hair.

I skim over her succulent nipples with teasing touches, plucking, tweaking. She arches, and my tongue dips down to the valley between her breasts and traces down to her waist. I kiss her hip bones, playing over her belly button. My thumb grazes over her nub as my tongue tastes her. With my other hand, I shove my shorts and underwear down and grasp my cock. Little spasms flutter from her folds as I feast on her skin. Her clit swells as I suck it into my mouth and flick over it, lingering, exploring her secret places. She calls my name, her body quaking and shuddering as she rubs against my face. Her back arches up, and she pulls my hair and comes with a shout, her body quivering.

I stop pumping my length and prowl on top of her. She opens her arms and scoots up to let me get on the table. Fire blazes under my skin as I get on my knees and pick up her hips, her legs falling over my forearms. Her ass rests against my upper thighs. My chest heaves as I slide inside her slickness and groan, need rising higher as her tits bounce with my entry. I swivel my hips to get deeper, yelling out as I hit home.

Her eyes glaze, her pupils blown. Sweat drips down my face, my gaze trained on her, memorizing her features, the way her hair splays out behind her. I play with her nipples, skimming my tongue over the tips, then sucking them into my mouth.

Her hips rise to meet me as I work her, my shoulder muscles flexing as I slide out and thrust back with a need that curls down my spine. She tightens her legs around my hips and gazes up at me, our eyes locked.

We’re in a bubble, the only two people in the world, and all that matters is this second, this feeling. The air crackles as something powerful and beautiful passes between us. A gift. A rare moment. The world tilts as my throat prickles with need for her. My mouth parts to gasp.

“Nova . . .”

She tugs my face to hers, and I let down her legs to lie on top of her, easing between them.

I slow us down, dragging out the thrusts, my face in her neck. We turn languid and unhurried, stretching out the moments I’m inside her. She feels like silk, tight and hot. I rise as I slide out, my crown rubbing over her clit before I thrust back inside.

“Nova . . .” I can’t find the right words for what’s happening between us.

“I’m here. I feel it too,” she breathes out.

With tender lips, I kiss her throat, her ear, her collarbone, her breasts. I want to consume her, have my smell on her skin.

Her hands clutch my ass, her nails digging into the skin, and I’m gone, euphoria ripping through my skin, my bones, every molecule inside me. I roar at the sensation, the ultimate pleasure, my body riding the wave. She tips over with me, our hands clinging to each other.

With her caged below me, I give her another kiss. “You’re beautiful. That was beautiful,” I tell her as we turn on our sides and face each other, our legs and feet tangling together. I push the hair out of her face, and the moments tick by as we stare at each other.

She smiles. “You’re gonna have a damp spot on your pool table. Can you recover it?”

I laugh. “This can be our sex table. I’ll put it in my bedroom.” My eyes eat her up—the flushed cheekbones, the dainty nose.

“I want to show you Star Wars,” I murmur. “Just you and me. I want to sit next to you and watch your face when you realize how awesome it is.”

Her hands toy with the ends of my hair. “You’re going to torture me with a galactic saga?”

“Come on; you know you’re dying to see it.” I rest my chin on her head.

She lifts her face. “Do you still have some vanilla wafers?”