Page 62 of Tight Ends & Tiaras
“Can I still make you come?” she asks, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes.
“Won’t take much. I’ve wanted to go off like a Roman candle since I saw you in your sexy little pajamas.”
That wicked twinkle in her eyes returns, and she pulls me close.
Her dainty hands wander over my shoulders and back. Dig into my hair. Grab my ass.
When I can’t stand it any longer, I move to my knees and watch my thick cock shuttle between her spread thighs.
But I’d love to make her come again, so I focus my thrusts against her clit, which has her tightening her thighs around me.
“Get there, baby,” I groan, barely holding back.
She shakes and shivers as she peaks again, but before I’m left to my own devices, she reaches down and jerks me off in her hand.
Groaning, I go off like a geyser, shooting across her breasts. Leaving a trail down her stomach and across her hips. She runs a finger through it, rubbing it into her nipple that’s swollen from my attention. But then she pops that finger into her mouth and smiles.
Something in me roars at the sight of a sex-mussed Sienna, dripping with my come and flushed from two orgasms. It’s primal, like I’m a big jungle cat trying to mark my territory.
Because while we talked about keeping this to a week of hookups, to a friends-with-benefits situation, it feels like Sienna’s mine. Like this means more.
Despite all the shit I have going on and the promises I’ve made to myself to focus on football and my daughter, I realize I have to get my shit together and find a way to keep this woman by my side.
And not just as a friend.
