The Game Plan (Game On 3) - Page 61/91

Though I’d never call her Tink the way Ivy and Gray do. She might be diminutive, but to me, she’s also larger than life.

Grasping her knees, I spread her thighs wide. Ah, and there’s that pretty pink pussy, all glistening for me. My favorite spot in the entire world. I step between her legs and rub her gloriously curvy hips. “I’ll warm you up.”

“I’m sure you will,” she murmurs, her gaze roaming over my chest in a possessive way that fills me with pride and gratitude.

“First, though, I promised to feed you.” I grab the takeout box and pull out a Chinese dumpling.

Fi’s brows lift. “Cold dumplings?”

“Best late-night snack ever.” I hold the dumpling near her lips. “Trust me.”

Her expression is dubious but she takes a bite and makes a little moan of contentment.

“Good, yeah?”

She swallows down her bite and opens her mouth for more.

Carefully, I feed her dumplings until she tells me she’s done. Then I hand her some water. “All good?” I ask, kissing the sensitive little corner of her mouth.

“Yes.”

Good. Licking my fingers to get the dumpling grease off, I step closer. “Sorry I couldn’t give you pancakes at midnight.”

I run my hands up her soft thighs. One tug and she’s at the edge of the counter. Fi’s eyes narrow, her plump lips curling in a sly smile.

I smile back, not saying a word but letting her know she’s mine all the same. The tip of my cock brushes her entrance. She’s slick and warm, and holds all my attention.

A light shiver runs over her body. “Dumplings are a pretty good alternative.”

“Mmm.” I nudge her just slightly, taking hold of her hips to keep her steady. “Dumplings and deep-dicking.”

She laughs at that. “Deep-dick—Oh!”

I thrust without warning.

“Oh!” Fi gasps again, her back arching, as I push my way deeper inside. Her tits lift like an offering. Well, then… I swoop forward and capture one rosy tip with my mouth.

“Oh, shit,” she whispers, her brows furrowed tight and her mouth open on a hot pant. “Oh, shit, Ethan.”

I don’t stop but pull her farther onto my dick, loving how she whimpers and wiggles as she struggles to accommodate me but clearly wants every inch I can give her.

It’s a snug fit, the warm, wet clasp of her squeezing me so hard I feel it in my balls and down my thighs.

When I bottom out, I pause because it’s just too good. But Fi is grasping my hair, shoving her tit in my mouth like she’ll die if I don’t suck harder, and writhing as if she needs more.

And I can’t hold back. We both groan as I work her in an easy, undulating rhythm that has no pause, because it’s heaven fucking Fi. Pure, perfect heaven. Every thrust I take grows a little harder, goes a little deeper, my piercing sliding over that spot within her that has her gasping a reedy “ah!” each time.

I mouth her nipple, my tongue sliding over it. Heat licks up my thighs and down my spine. I groan, slamming into her, again and again. And she loves it, her hands gripping my shoulders, her legs wrapping tight around my waist as she slumps against the marble countertop.

“Ethan. Ethan.” It’s a weak, needy cry.

I bend over her, practically crawling onto the counter with her, pumping with blind lust now. She’s utterly beautiful spread out before me, her expression slack with pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” she says.

I won’t. I can’t.

This. This is what I want, what I need, this connection with Fiona in whatever variation I can get for as long as I can.

She comes on a sob, and it breaks me. How am I going to let her go again? My orgasm takes my breath, my voice. I empty myself into her, giving her everything I have, and it won’t be enough to keep her here.

It’s never enough.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Fiona

Airport again. Why do they all smell the same? Dex walks me to the TSA line, and I feel like I’m going to my execution. My entire body wants to resist moving forward. Maybe Dex does too because he doesn’t try to hurry me along, even though my sluggish pace causes him to take unnaturally short steps.

When we get within sight of the line, his fingertips press my lower back, as if he’s entertaining ideas of grabbing hold and pulling me away. I wouldn’t object.

With a soft sort of grunt, he turns me into his embrace. I get a glimpse of his eyes, serious and pained. His warm hands cradle my cheeks, and then he’s kissing me.

It’s deep, desperate, and savoring, as if he’s putting his entire heart into each touch and taste, as if he’s trying to memorize every second. And I’m lost. Utterly lost.

Sounds fade. There is only Ethan and how good he feels, how good he makes me feel. I’m on my toes, my arms wrapped around his neck, as I kiss him back, consumed by my need for him. I don’t know how long we stand there, but when he moves his mouth from mine to explore my jaw, taking soft nibbles, my lips feel tender and swollen.

Big hands caress my back, my sides, sliding down to the crest of my butt and up to just under my breasts. Keeping it decent but driving me wild all the same.

“Be sure to drink water,” he murmurs against my skin, kissing my neck, my chin, mouth, cheek.

“’Kay.” My hands roam too, finding the hard rounds of his massive shoulders, sliding over his firm pecs.

He tugs me closer, his breath warm on my skin. “Some strange guy tries to talk to you, tell him to fuck off.”

I laugh at that.

Ethan doesn’t. He grazes the side of my neck with his teeth, his beard tickling. “Make an effort to stretch your legs.”