Hard Luck (Trophy Boyfriends 4)

Of course, I don’t tell her that; it would freak her the fuck out, and the last thing I need is for her to run from me again.

Nope.

I’m keeping that information in my back pocket for now.

“Lie here and let me take care of you.”

“Pfft, I planned on being lazy.” She stretches out, spreading her legs. “I had a rough day.”

She did not, but we had a few moments where the day was a bit…much.

Her mom and dad video-chatting a few times, not wanting to be left out of the excitement.

My mom.

Two of my sisters.

Her brothers.

Molly texting, not wanting to be left out either but having a babysitting job across town.

It’s been a lot.

But I guess what do you expect with families like ours?

Chaos.

True’s hair fans out on the pillow, looking all kinds of mermaid sexiness, dark against light. Tight t-shirt. White cotton underwear.

None of it is blatantly sexy; she’s certainly not lying here in Victoria’s Secret pin-up lingerie, but something about it has me harder than any porn I accidentally watched the past few weeks.

Listen, I was desperate, okay?!

White tee.

Dark nipples.

Wiggling hips.

Baby bump.

Muy caliente…

Very hot.

I kneel between her legs, adjusting us both on the bed so I can sprawl out below her and not fall off the mattress, my ass in the air as my head and fingers and hands graze her through the fabric of her underwear.

I wet it with my tongue.

Suck.

Suck until her hands grasp the bedding with white knuckles.

That’s my girl.

I know she’s not going to want to finish unless I’m buried deep inside her—that’s what True does. Impatiently begs and begs until I slip my dick in and pump until she comes.

This time that won’t be happening.

She’s going to come on my tongue if we have to stay like this all goddamn night.

True has herself propped up at one point, using her elbows so she can watch me from her vantage point on the pillow, her eyes glassy with lust, her mouth open.

When I rake my teeth over her clit, her head drops back, hitting the pillow, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Escaping her throat.

She can barely stand what I’m doing to her, and I know the begging is going to begin any second now.

I’m not wrong.

“Mateo, please.”

I shake my head though it’s in between her legs and grunt out a “No.”

“Why?” she whines.

I ignore her.

I want her to relax so she can enjoy herself, not beg for momentary pleasure. I want to draw this out. Torture her a little. Make her want me when I’m not around because all she can do is think about my head between her legs.

I imagine seeing the top of my head is a turn-on, just like seeing my lips on her pussy is a turn-on, too.

I’ve always been turned on by the sight of a woman’s head bobbing up and down as she sucks my dick, so I can’t imagine this is any different.

Pushing the fabric of her underwear aside, I lavish her clit with a lick straight down the middle of her slit and bask in the moaning coming from her throat.

“Mateo.”

At what point will she learn she can’t have the D in the P just because she begs for it?

It doesn’t take long before her thighs begin to quake.

Shake?

The thrashing of her head on the pillow intensifies. The hand clenching the bedspread clenches harder.

True is a goddess laid out before me. Beautiful.

Pregnant.

Halfway to rocking an orgasm.

“Are you trying to make me go into early labor?”

I ignore her.

“I s-swear t-to g-god, Mateo, if you don’t…”

Naughty, naughty, using the Lord’s name in vain. She should know better than that.

I feast on her, going at it like both our lives depend on this.

I moan too, humming into her core, adding to the vibrations.

“Oh god…”

There she goes again.

“Oh…”

She’s close.

My thumb goes in slow circles just at the top of her pussy, round and round, while my tongue licks and my lips suck, grinding my stiff boner into the covers, not nearly close enough to finding my own release.

I’ll handle that after I handle her, maybe give myself a handy after she climaxes.

“Sshh…” True is pushing sounds out of her lips, none of which make sense. “Ahh…ohhh…uh…yee…”

I smile into her pussy, parting it with my fingers to lick deeper.

Sweet, sweet pussy.

“That wasn’t fair.”

“What wasn’t?”

“You, making me come from oral. I hate that.”

“You hate oral?” I can feel my brows shooting into my hairline, stunned expression surely across my face.

“No, I hate not feeling in control. I love being on top so I can control my own orgasm.”

Eh. “That sounds overrated. Isn’t it better to be so out of control you’re calling out to God and saying words no one can understand?”

Beside me, she shrugs. Turns again to face me, looking like an angel, naked and covered with only a white bedsheet. Sex hair tangled and falling every which way.