Nixon (Raleigh Raptors 1) - Page 38

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I dropped my pants and let my boxers follow.

She gaped as she looked her fill at my body. Then she drew her tongue across her lower lip and wrapped her fingers around my cock.

I sucked in a breath with a hiss and fought back a rush of pleasure. Fuck, what was I? Fourteen?

I made quick work of her tank top and pajama pants, leaving her in a simple, white lace bra and panty set that nearly made me swallow my tongue. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She dropped her gaze, and I tilted her chin, bringing those eyes right back to mine.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t just mean physically,” I said slowly, making sure she understood that I meant it.

“You…” she shook her head and traced the outside line of my abs with a single finger, riding the V-line all the way to my cock. “I don’t have words for what you are.”

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” I said honestly. I would tie myself into knots for this woman, and we couldn’t even have a conversation about what the fuck we were to each other besides being parents of the child we would share.

“I just want you.” She rose on her knees, looped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

“Then you have me,” I said against her lips, lowering us to the bed and settling her head on my pillow.

I kissed her breathless, then started down her body. She arched and gasped when I bit gently on her nipple through the lace of her bra. Once it hit the floor, and she was bare before me, I filled my hands with her curves, palming and shaping her incredible breasts.

Then I lowered my mouth and sucked her nipple between my lips, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak.

“Nixon,” she groaned, spearing her fingers through my hair and holding me to her. I gave the other breast the same treatment until her breaths were rushed and color flushed her skin. Her hips rolled, and my dick twitched.

I took the edges of her panties between my fingers and looked up, meeting her lust-filled gaze and nearly losing my shit right there. “Are you sure you want this?”

“God, yes.” She lifted her hips, and her panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

I slid over her and settled between her thighs, then kissed her deep. Fuck, she was so wet I could feel her heat licking over the tip of my cock. She rocked her hips, and I slid right through her folds, stroking her clit with a slow thrust.

We both groaned.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” I swore, sliding my hand up her thigh and going straight for her core.

“Good. Now get inside me,” she ordered, tugging on my bottom lip with her teeth to make her point.

I reached into my nightstand for a condom, then ripped the packet open and slid it over my dick.

Her attention flickered from my nightstand to the torn wrapper. “Nixon…has there been…” she shook her head. “Never mind.”

I leaned down and brushed my lips over hers as I slid two fingers inside her pussy. Fuck she was wet and so tight I knew this first time wouldn’t last long. “There’s only been you.”

“Since I moved in?” she asked, gasping between words as my fingers worked her. Her hands flew to my shoulders.

“Since Vegas.” I stroked her clit with my thumb.

Her nails dug in. “Vegas?” She ended the word with a cry, arching into my hand.

“Since the second you stepped on that plane. Only you.” I flicked her clit, then stroked, alternating until she writhed beneath me.

“Only. You. Too.” She arched her neck and moaned, then loosed her hips, rocking as she rode my fingers, taking exactly what she needed.

She was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen, stretched out beneath me, her eyes locked on mine as she started to come. Her legs trembled, and her nails bit into my skin. I gave her clit the pressure she needed, and she flew apart, screaming my name as her orgasm took her.

As she came down, I slid my fingers free, then sucked her taste off them.

“Holy. Shit.” Her hands slid down my sides until she gripped my hips. “Now. Please. Now.”

I positioned my head at her entrance, then paused as I glanced at the soft swell of her belly.

“You can’t hurt the baby,” she promised.

“Right.” I’d read one of those books, too, but reading and experiencing were two different things, and keeping poised right there, ready to thrust, had sweat beading on my forehead. “Just tell me if I’m too much, okay?”

She grinned, then pulled me forward. “I think I can handle you.”

“We kind of have that proof already,” I answered with a tight smile of my own. God, I had to have her now.

Tags: Samantha Whiskey Raleigh Raptors Romance