Page 42 of Broken Play
"It's a good thing we have all night."
She moves faster and comes again, but it only takes a few seconds before she wants more. She lifts herself, and my rock-hard dick finds heaven as she sinks down on me.She gasps, and I say, "Don't move. I want to remember the moment I found my home inside of you."
I don't mean to be deep, but that's honestly how I feel. She probably thinks I'm a desperate puppy dog in search of water. But I've found the well I want to drink from—forever.
Gradually, she swirls her hips, and a sigh of delight escapes her perfect, natural-sized lips. They're not fake and puffy.
When she adjusts to the intrusion, I use my hands to slide her up and down. The longer we go, the wetter she gets. I can't get enough of her as the smell of sex fills the room. I thrust upward as she presses her palms against my chest and rides me like a professional rodeo rider.
Relentless, we chase that final orgasm but pull back every time we get close.
Bouncing. Grinding. Tossing her hair. Arching her back. It's like art, and I can't wait to sketch her in this moment.
I'm on the precipice of blowing my load before she does as she tries to play with my balls while keeping her rhythm. She's all over the place, so I slow it down just enough so I can stimulate her clit. That's all it takes. She yells, "Yes. Oh my God, yes."
My toes curl; a roaring grunt travels up my core, and I pull her off me, coming all over both of us and my brand-new couch.
Her head falls onto my shoulder, and I stroke her silky hair. When we both catch our breath, I push her back so I can see her face. "Big enough?"
She twists her mouth like she's thinking about it, and I can't help but wipe that smirk off her face by giving her a bruisingkiss.
"Why do guys think it's about the size? For women, it's about the emotions."
"So, you're telling me a guy with a little dick you can't even feel inside you is good, as long as he gives you emotions?" I know I have an incredulous look on my face; my eyebrows feel like they're on top of my head.
"Well, number ten, you're lucky you made me feel both."
I like that answer, but I want to hear her say a little dick is as good as a big one. Of course, she only has Bodhi to compare me to. He's not as tall as me, but I have to think he's at least average. Damn, I need to stop thinking about him being inside her.
So instead of making more jokes, I say, "Let's go shower."
"Together?"
"Yeah, together." I act like I've done it a million times, but I've never showered with a woman. I've never let them stay long enough in the hotel room, and I've certainly never had them to my house since I've been a professional. In college, sure, they came to my dorm room, but back then we had communal showers, unlike now. Parker and Noelle live a life of luxury with suites where they have their own rooms and bathrooms.
Sutton makes a quick grab for her clothes piled on the floor, trying to cover herself, but with my faster-than-a-fly reflexes, I swipe them out of her hands, sporting a victorious grin. She glares at me, arms crossed over her chest, but I just backpedal toward the stairs, her clothes held hostage. "What's the matter, Sutton? You gonna let a little nudity slow you down?" I tease, waggling her shirt invitingly.
She huffs and charges after me, laughing, and I bolt up the stairs, her footsteps hot on my heels as I call over myshoulder, "You better catch me before the neighbors get an eyeful!"
"Ha! You don't have neighbors," she snaps playfully.
"No, but I do have a roommate."
She stops halfway up the stairs. "What? Is Noelle here?"
I walk back down, meeting her on the step, and throw her over my shoulder. "Just kidding. Frank is staying at a hotel with his wife tonight."
"You're an ass," she says as she slaps my butt. "Ow, it's hard."
A chuckle rolls from my throat. "Oh, it's hard for you."
TWENTY-TWO
SUTTON
A persistent buzzing interrupts my dream of number ten, my quarterback. It's not until it vibrates that I realize it's my phone. I groan as I roll over, not wanting to leave the warmth of Greyson's arms. Evidently, he's a deep sleeper, and his arm is like a weighted blanket. I wiggle until I can reach my phone. I squint at the screen; it's J.D.
On my way to talk to Greyson. Need to discuss what happened at the game. Thoughts? Personally? Professionally?
