Page 64 of Klutch's Kryptonite

I watch him go, still amazed sometimes that this beautiful man is mine.

It’shours later when we’re finally walking through the side door into our kitchen. I’m a little jazzed from all the excitement and Klutch is still riding the high of his victory. He didn’t just win, he destroyed Benny the Bulldog in the second round with a knockout that had the entire arena on their feet.

The door barely closes behind us before Klutch has me pinned against it, his lips crashing down on mine with a hunger that steals my breath. His hands are everywhere at once—in my hair, cupping my face, sliding down my sides to grip my hips.

“Told you I’d collect my prize,” he growls against my lips as he tugs at the hem of my top.

I raise my arms, letting him pull the shirt over my head and toss it aside. My bra follows quickly, his calloused fingers making quick work of the clasp. The cool door against my back and his heated skin against my front sends shivers racing up my spine.

“Klutch,” I gasp as his mouth moves to my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below my ear.

“So fucking sexy,” he murmurs, hands sliding down to unbutton my jeans. “And all fucking mine.”

“Yes,” I moan.

In one quick motion, he grabs the back of my thighs and hoists me up. My arms and legs snake around him, holding on tight. He carries me to our kitchen table and sets me down on the wooden surface. Eyes holding mine, he grabs hold of the waistband of my jeans and tugs. I lean from side to side, helping him shimmy my panties and jeans off.

His eyes lock with mine as he spreads my thighs, and the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. “Beautiful,” he says, his voice reverent as he squats down and licks a slow swipe up my center.

My head falls back, a moan escaping my lips as his talented tongue works me over. He knows exactly how to touch me, where to press, when to suck. It’s maddening and perfect, and I’m already racing toward the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, sliding two fingers inside me as his tongue circles my clit. “Come for me.”

The orgasm hits me like a freight train, my back arching off the table as pleasure crashes over me. Before I can even catch my breath, Klutch has his jeans shoved down to his thighs and is stroking his rock hard cock.

I bite my lip. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. My man is so damn hot. How in the hell is he even real?

His body is a masterpiece of sculpted muscle and beautiful ink, and despite seeing it in all its glory every day, the sight of him naked and hard for me still makes my mouth go dry.

“Love when you look at me like that.” His voice is rough.

My eyes jump to his. “I need you.”

A deep growl rumbles from his chest.

The bruises from tonight’s fight are already forming on his ribs, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care as he positions himself at my entrance.

“Ready for me?” he asks, though we both know the answer.

“Always,” I breathe, reaching for him.

He runs the tip of his cock through my juices and surges forward, filling me in one powerful thrust.

“Klutch!” I cry out his name.

The stretch, the fullness of him inside me. It’s exquisite.

“That’s it, baby. Let the neighbors know who owns this pussy.” My man fucks me hard, setting a punishing pace, hiships snapping against mine, each thrust driving me closer to the edge again.

Just as I reach the edge, about to come, he pulls out suddenly.

“No!” I plead.

Before I can ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing by stopping when I’m so close, he yanks me off the table onto my feet, spins me around and bends me over the table. His hands grab onto my hips with a grip I know will leave bruises. “Who do you belong to?” he snarls, filling me with a brutal force that drives the breath from my lungs. His hips piston harder and faster.

“You! I belong to you.”

The new angle has him hitting that perfect spot inside me, and it’s not long before I’m teetering on the brink again. “Klutch, please,” I beg, not even sure what I’m begging for.

---