My eyes slam shut as I arch to him, the heat of his mouth short-circuiting my senses. He cups my buttocks in his huge hands and locks me to him, his wet tongue sliding in to taste my clit again and again.
“You like that?” he asks, the words muffled.
I nod. Then realize he can’t see me. “Yes,” I rasp.
He lowers his face to me again, growling deep but gently and sexy deep as his dark head buries between my legs and teases my clit with his tongue. My knees tremble as my legs try to swing open even wider.
An orgasm keeps building in my core, all my muscles clenching taut, and I claw at the top of his head, grabbing a fistful of damp hair, “No … please … I want to come with you.”
He doesn’t listen.
His head is busy moving between my parted thighs. He makes low purr-like sounds between my legs and is so surprisingly ravenous I can feel his teeth. His nails bit into my thighs as he devours me like he’s the one deriving pleasure from the act, and I’m so turned on by the way he laps me up, that I come.
Convulsions rock me beneath him, and he makes another sound and keeps on going as he adds a finger in me. He lifts his head and watches me climax, fingering me now. And I keep going off like a rocket for him, exploding in a thousand and one pieces. It’s always so intense with him, keeps lasting so long. I'm shuddering as he comes up, and he's pulsing against my hipbone as he crushes my mouth.
“Let me,” I breathe, and I reach between our bodies, but he clamps my wrist within his big hand.
“Easy,” he tells me, struggling to catch his breath, but I ignore him and anxiously grab the top part of his shaft in my hand.
Arousal shoots through me again when I feel the silky wetness at the bloated crown. Groaning, he lowers his dark head and licks my earlobe, his breath hot and fast in my ear. I touch him hesitantly, somehow expecting him to stop me, but he doesn’t.
Oh, god, this is the most erotic thing I’ve ever done.
I make a sound of pleasure and turn my head to him.
We start kissing.
He takes the kiss to the next level, adding tongue and teeth, and they light me up like fireworks. Sensations rush through my body with each damp flick, my fingers clenching in his shaft as my grip slides over him.
My other hand goes to his hair, and I hold his kiss to me. Thick and soft, I wind my fingers in the silky sable of his hair as I bury my entire being in his taste, in him. His erection vibrates in my hand, and I shake with a new, even fiercer need when I feel his size, his strength, pulsing hot and commandingly.
He’s so overwhelmingly sexy every second I lie here, underneath him, I die a slow death. I want to gobble him up. I love the way he guards me, protects me, the way he looks back at me, the way he feels, the most aroused, sexy man I’ve ever held in my hand.
I try to close my fist around him, and though I can’t, I sense whatever holds him back, breaks when I try to squeeze him.
He pulls me up to crush my mouth with his, then easily flips me around and hauls me up to a doggy position. “Like this,” he commands, in my ear, then forces my head around to crush my mouth again until my lips feel swelled because of him.
He tears free and sets his forehead at the back of my head with a hungered groan that resonates in my core. My sex pulses when he inhales me, and he keeps scenting me as he rubs his cock along my bottom.
It feels too good when he pushes in. I cry and turn my head. And then I see his reflection, how he’s completely over me. Mounting me. And he’s so beautiful he mesmerizes me. He’s naked and glistening from his exercise, and all his muscles are engaged as his hips rock, his arms holding his upper body aloft from me. He uses his arms to fuck me, his back, his abs, his thighs, his buttocks. I don’t even see myself, just a quick glance at how petite I look under him, apricot-white against his tan, my hair no longer in a ponytail falling down my nape and shoulders, my breasts bouncing, and the look on my face … I never even knew I could look so smoky and aroused, rosy cheeks, my eyes are shining like crazy because I’m looking at the only man I’ve ever had feelings for.
He holds me up on my hands and knees and whispers, “Look at me.” And urges my head up so I meet his gaze in the mirror.
He wants me to see, and I can barely keep my eyes open. The sight of us making love is excruciatingly erotic. My eyelids flutter shut, and Remington pulls out and drags himself along the fissure, squeezing my ass cheeks around him, then thrusts with a decadent groan into my achingly wet pussy. “Look at me.”
I do. When I open my eyes, I see all those packed muscles, his square shoulders, his flat, hard pectorals and his small, brown nipples glistening wetly, and I tremble as I see the muscles of his right hand flex as he slides it down my abdomen to caress my sex. His body vibrates against mine, and I’m ready to come when he adds his thumb in heart-stopping circles across the tender nubbin of my clit. I bloom open with need. He’s beautiful, and he’s the most virile thing I’ve ever seen. And he’s mine.
The look of passion on his face is because of me. The lust in his eyes for me. A fierce orgasm coils in my midsection, and I moan feebly, begging him for its release.
He hears me.
He watches me in the mirror like he’s never seen anything like me … his eyes wild, primal. Possessive.
Every ounce of me throbs in pleasure as he withdraws and halts the crown of his hard cock at my wet entry, the move halting my climax at the tremulous pinnacle, and then he pushes back into my body in a slow, delicious rhythm again.
“Yeah…” he rasps, his eyes closed as he shoves himself forward. My orgasm tightens and strains inside me. I shudder at the sexy image of him, lost to me, and suddenly he growls and grabs my hair in his fist, turning my head and slamming his mouth to mine.
My pussy is liquid with want. His cock drags inside me, thick and hard, in my sex, in my being. I grip him tighter with my sex muscles and rock my hips back restlessly in silent plea. “Push every inch of you in me … I want every inch of you,” I beg.
He thrusts deeper with a roar, the move startling a whimper out of me. The pace we set suddenly is feral, rapid. I can see my breasts bouncing as he rams me, my body jerking under the powerful rocking motions of his hips. His biceps clench as he grips my hips and holds me still for him.
He's undone already.
His hips rock on me and I’m a mass of quaking lust with the magnificent sight of him behind me. Eyes closed, muscles bulging, face taut. I push backward and swallow a moan as he spills in me, warm inside my sex. The convulsions are as powerful as he is, and my sex creams up hotly as I watch and instantly follow.
He keeps pumping into my pussy as the tremors seize me, holding his hand between my thighs and caressing my sex with those big callused hands that drive me crazy. I cry softly his name and he groans mine, and when we’re sated on the mats, I just know.
I know. For sure. One hundred percent to the tenth power.
I’ve fallen head over heels in love with him.
A visitor
At the Chicago O’Hare International Airport, Pete and I are seated out by the baggage claim among the bustle of people as we wait for Melanie’s flight to arrive.
“Pete, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” I tell him as I keep scanning the flight arrival screens above. He looks like my bodyguard in that man-in-black suit, following me even when I stand to stretch my legs. I just know it’s because Remy told him not to take his eyes off me, and if Melanie were here, I also know she’d be anxious for us to go “pee” just to see what the poor man did—like that Jack-in-the-Box incident. But Pete is such a good guy, I wouldn’t dream of putting him in a tight spot with Remy. Except maybe … under duress.
Which means, possibly, now.
“So, Pete, do you remember the night Remy ditched the ring because I was following someone? Of course you remember.”
The obvious disgust in his expression makes me laugh.
And when we realize our small seating space is taken over by a group of college students, we end up standing at the side of the carousels.
“That girl was my sister, Pete. She’s my little sister, who I think has gotten herself involved with the wrong crowd, and I really think I need to step up and help her. No. I don’t think it. I know it,” I emphasize. “Oh, can I have one?”
Pete has just pulled out a Trident gum for himself, and offers me one. “Remington is already on top of that, so don’t even fret about it.”
“What?” He completely blanks out my thoughts with that statement. With a dazed expression, I stare down at the proffered gum, then fold one silver foil open and pop the gum into my mouth, the juice bursting on my first munch so completely that it makes me have to bite several times before speaking. “What do you mean he’s on top of that? The last thing I want is him involved with anything to do with that Scorpion figure.”
Pete grimaces as if the gum in his mouth tastes like bitter whole coffee beans. “Neither do I. But Rem’s already made contact to open talks about her being returned to you. I warn you, it’s not going to be easy. Apparently your sister doesn’t want out even when Remy offered a lot of money.”
My stomach shudders. Okay, truth time. I find it extremely generous and so bloody hot Remington is doing this for me, but I can’t allow it, especially now that I know the truth and certainly don’t want him stepping into any of his triggers. Which maybe Scorpion is, who knows? “Please, Pete, I want Remy to forget about it. I don’t want to get him in trouble.”
At one of the carousels, a little boy runs around, tripping with suitcases, while the flustered father tries to catch up the toddler. We both seem to watch in amusement.
“Don’t worry, Brooke. We’ll take care of Rem. And Riley’s the one talking to that insect’s goons now. There’s no way in hell I’m letting Rem interact with Scorpion on his own. Too many things between them. He was adamant about going himself but I reminded him if he got kicked out of the league, then he wouldn’t be able to hire you anymore, and he grumbled in protest but, in the end, calmed down and agreed to send Riley.”
My smile hurts on my face. I find it incredibly amusing that Pete used me to bend Remy’s iron will.
“Is there a reason they’re so friendly, our little lamb Scorpy and Remington?” I ask Pete.
“Scorpy,” he sarcastically answers, with an amused smile, “is the douche his competition hired to get Rem kicked out of pro. Rem loathes his fucking ass and can’t wait to mop the floor with it.”
“He’s the one? Oh, I hate that asshole ever since I had the misfortune of meeting him at the club!” I explode, then turn a glare at Pete. “Well, then, now you must agree with me it’s best if we left Remy out of this mess? I don’t want him to even be tempted to talk to Scorpion himself and I certainly don’t want him to pay for my sister. She’s a free woman! She should leave on her own. Pete, I’m sure if I could only talk to my sister, I’m bound to be able to reason with her.”
The little boy trips and falls on someone’s small black duffel. His laughter stops, and then his cries break through the bustling noises as Dad finally picks him up and carries him back to where Mother waits for their suitcases.
