Page 94 of IOU

She places her hands on the cushions. I can see her body rise and fall with each inhale and exhale. “Maverick.”

Maverickis freaking right.

“Say it again,” I demand, fumbling with my zipper like some kind of teenager, all excited and shit.

“Maverick,” she says, and I can just hear the smile in her voice. She likes that I want to hear her say my name. She likes knowing she gets to me—likes knowing she can break through my cold and rough exterior.

Finally, I get my fucking zipper down and my dick literally jumps free from my boxers. I grip it hard, coming closer and kicking her legs out wider so I can stand between them.

“I love you like this,” I tell her, stroking my dick in a bruising hold.

“Like what?” Her words are labored and breathy.

I let the tip of my dick leak arousal over her stunning ass cheeks, marking my territory. It does something crazy to my chest. When have I ever felt the need to mark a woman? Claim her for myself. When have I ever cared enough?

It’s a goddamned mystery. One I don’t think I’ll be able to solve just yet.

I reach into my back pocket, finding the cards and the sharpie, and toss them onto the floor where they scatter. Ainsley’s head follows the noise, but I don’t bother explaining. All I can do is focus so I don’t jack off and come all over her pretty back. She wants me inside her, not all over her.

Finally, I find my wallet and the condom I keep for emergencies. I pluck it from the leather and toss it onto the floor as well. I’m sheathed in mere seconds and lined up with her entrance. I don’t warn her. I don’t think I can—the wait is too much.

The first push in sends a hiss through me. “So fucking perfect,” I mumble, almost incoherently. She’s tight burning flesh around me. A glove a size too small. I pull back and ease back into her, watching for any signs of discomfort. It’s a lesson in patience.

“Are you okay?” I barely get out through clenched teeth.

“Yes,” she moans. “More than okay.” Her fingers grip the cushions beneath her. “Please move.”

I can do that. I canfuckingdo that. I slam into her with an intensity, I’m ashamed to say, I haven’t ever seen from myself. What is it about this girl that gets to me?

I’m slamming into her over and over again, the sofa inching up with the impact of my thrusts. I’m a fucking monster attempting to bury myself entirely inside her. I reach around, trying to slow my ass down and find her clit.

“Oh, God. Ainsley!”

I pause. “Did you just call out your own name?” I ask her.

She chuckles. “I figured you wouldn’t mind. The tagline of the book said: ‘Learn how to scream out your own name.’ It was the one sentence I read.”

That fucking book.

I shake my head and slam into her. “You better hold on,” I tell her through clenched teeth—dammit she feels amazing. “You won’t remember your name by the time I’m finished.”

The deep groan that bursts out is felt deep inside her. Harder, I thrust so aggressively into her that my finger can’t stay on her clit. It’s messy, sloppy, and unbridled. Skin slapping skin, grunts and gasps the only noise around us, I push into Ainsley until my dick and I are satisfied that we’ve explored and ruined every inch of her pussy.

“I’m close,” she chants excitedly, like this is a new concept to her. I’m sure Fuckface didn’t care enough to demolish her insides. But I’m nothing if not thorough. I slow my thrusts and pinch her clit.

“Ahh!”

Her body shivers in my arms and I pick up the pace, chasing the only time I’ve ever wanted to come with a woman at the same time. Her muscles grip me, holding me closer to her, milking everything from me, one thrust at a time. Sweat is dripping down my chest, plunging onto her butt cheeks, which bounce every time she absorbs a brutal thrust.

“Come with me, Mav,” she begs, stretching her hand back.

I stare at her hand reaching out for me for a second, a million things running through my head.

Fuck it.

I’m all in.

I lace my fingers with hers and pull them across her back and thrust one last time before collapsing on top of her.

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