Page 51 of Off Limits

His large fingers gently tug at my ponytail holder, releasing my hair. He runs his hands through it, pausing to work out a tangle before meeting my eyes again and nodding once.

Biting my lip, I look around and see that the curtains are closed. “How long before Cal comes home, do you think?”

“Long enough,” he rumbles, his hips once again lifting up to meet mine.

I can just imagine how this would feel with him inside me, so deep …

I’m yanking my shirt up and off before I even finish the thought, and Simon helps me out by reaching behind me and unclasping my bra, pulling the straps down my arms as soon as I lower them from discarding my shirt. Then his hands are on my tits, and I’m arching into his greedy mouth as he kisses and nips and licks his way across them. “Fuck, I love your tits,” he says.

All I can do is hum in pleasure.

But I want his skin too, and he lets out a grunt of protest when he has to let go of me to get his Marycliff Football T-shirt over his head and off. He wastes no time lifting his hips and yanking his shorts down below his ass, the front coming down enough to reveal the thicket of hair on his groin, but catching on his hard cock.

Reaching down, I free him, scooting the fabric down his thighs so I have full access to stroke him.

He leans up and captures my mouth with his, his hands yanking on the back of my leggings. He lets out another grunt of annoyance when all he can do is uncover my bare ass. “No fair,” he mutters. “I need access to all of you.”

Laughing at his pouty tone, I climb off him, bending to give him one quick swirly lick around the crown of his cock on my way off that has his hips surging and another loud groan rattling out of him. He kicks off his shorts while I peel off my leggings.

“Condom?” I ask.

“Backpack,” he answers, pointing at the bag next to the coffee table.

I hand it to him so he can pull one out of a small inner compartment, rip open the square package, and roll it on. His eyes are dark with lust, but glittering with affection when he crooks a finger at me. “C’mere, Ellie.”

I don’t have to be told twice. Smoothing my hands up his chest to his shoulders, I rise up and swing my leg over him again. I’ve never felt more sexy or powerful or desired as I do right now. That reverent, worshipful look on his face makes me want to bare myself to him in every way.

But first, it makes me want to sink down onto him and make his dream come true.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Simon

I grip the base of my cock with one hand, holding myself steady. Ellie reaches between us, her fingers skimming over the sensitive head, landing just beneath as she lines herself up.

When her hot little pussy makes contact, I suck in a breath. And then in one slow, scalding slide, she sinks all the way down.

Fuuuuuck.

This is … holy shit.

I can’t.

She starts off so slowly, making tiny, almost imperceptible movements, and all I want to do is lift up her ass enough so I can hammer up into her. But I don’t. Oh god, this might be the death of me, but I don’t do anything to take control. Don’t do anything but kiss her back and let her ride me.

I’ve had many fantasies about Ellie over the last month plus, but that first dream has been a recurring one that I’ve come back to over and over again. It’s always seemed unlikely. At first because I had no intention of acting on my attraction to Ellie. But even after I did, all our encounters have been anywhere but here.

But now? Having her here? In my space? With her thoughtful care basket? She’s everything I never expected to find. Never realized I wanted. Caring. Funny. Sweet with just the right amount of sass to keep her interesting.

When she pulled out that bossy voice? Fuck me. I could handle her trying to boss me around more often. Especially if it ends up like this.

I take advantage of her slow pace to explore her body with my hands and lips—sweeping her hair to one side, I start with her neck, sliding my fingers down the smooth expanse below her jaw, kissing the spot where her pulse hammers, enjoying the way her breath catches. Then her collarbone, shoulder, breasts. They’re so perfect—plump and pretty and tipped with pink. When I hold them up and suck on each one, her achingly slow rhythm falters. She stills, but when I release each nipple with a soft kiss, she resumes moving, only this time faster, with more urgency.

“That’s it,” I tell her. “Fuck, yeah, Ellie. Ride me.”

She squeezes my cock with her pussy, and we let out matching groans. My hands find their way to her ass cheeks, and I pull them apart, my pinky reaching all the way to where I’m moving in and out of her, my cock and balls slick with her juices.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, leaning forward and moving faster.

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