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Digging my nails into his solid shoulders, I slowly lift my hips, sliding up his thick length until only the head remains notched inside me. Then both of our moans saturate the room as I slide all the way back down.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe, dropping my head back on my shoulders. I repeat the ride. Again. Then once more. Every glide has me moving more sure, more confidently. And has ecstasy lapping at me in greedy licks. “Oh fuck,” I whisper again.
His low, positively wicked chuckle reverberates against my nipples, inside my sex. I feel him every—damn—where.
I find my rhythm, and soon I’m lost in him, in me, in this filthy, beautiful fucking. He leans forward, capturing a nipple between his lips and teeth, worrying it, while his other hand cradles, plumps, and plucks at the breast waiting for the attention from his mouth. It all just adds to the sensory overload threatening to take me under. So far under I won’t find my way back.
“Goddamn, ma.” He lifts his head after placing an oddly gentle kiss on the beaded tip. Sliding a hand up the middle of my chest, he circles it around my neck, and I almost cry from that possessive, primal touch. Lightly squeezing and ripping a soft cry from me, he stares down between us, where he’s driving inside me at a speed and pace that I fight to keep up with. “Why you got this good-ass pussy?” he snarls. “This good-ass, wet pussy.”
With each word of praise, he pounds into me, showing neither one of us any mercy.
He promised to beat up my pussy, and if Solomon Young isn’t anything else, he’s a man of his word. The sound of our raw, hard, and fierce fucking fills the room. His low grunts, my staccato whimpers, the thick, sticky sound of his dick in my sex, the wet slap of skin against skin.
My fingers curl around his wrist, and I dig my nails in there, urging him to tighten his own grip. With a low, dark rumble, he does. He squeezes until my breath is trapped beneath his hand.
And that’s all it takes to tip me over.
On a strangled scream, I come, splintering, spinning. I’m in a free fall, and I don’t care how far I plummet or how hard I land. Nothing matters except the pleasure breaking me, reshaping me. Renewing me.
Beneath me, Solomon slams up into me, his dick sending electric shots through my pussy, my body. After a moment, he goes rigid beneath me, and he throbs high and deep inside me. And the pulses of cum coating my pussy trigger aftershocks to shiver through and over me.
My name is a furious growl in my ear, and then ... nothing.
Perfect nothing.
Chapter Thirteen
SOLOMON
If anyone had told me even weeks ago that after I fucked the hell out of the firewoman who showed up at the arena, we would end up sitting in McDonald’s while my son went wild in the play area, I would’ve told them to hold on to that good Kush they were obviously smoking so I could get a hit once the season’s over.
Khalil’s excited yells reach us as he slides down one of the colorful tubes, and I avoid analyzing the unexpected turn of events—and the shadowy, elusive emotion playing hide-and-seek with my heart.
This is so not how I imagined my day would end up.
Yeah, when I issued the invitation for her to join me at the house, I hadn’t anticipated sex would be the outcome. But I’d hoped. Hell, Adina’s bad as fuck, and having her in my private space that very few people could claim they’d entered? Hell yeah, I’d hoped.
Yet if it ended up going that way, I saw me sending her back to Providence with Demarcus. Definitely not inviting her to ride with me to pick up Khalil from school and take him to McDonald’s. At the time, I rationalized it as running late after sex and a shower.
Low-key, I could’ve had Demarcus in my driveway in minutes. Charge it to the loose, much-needed peace after a good fuck. But thetruth is I didn’t want to send her home; I wanted to keep her just a little while longer. Bask in this place a little longer.
Not gonna lie, though. When I returned to the car after collecting Khalil, and he climbed in and saw Adina, his delight and excitement had a tangled mess of emotions colliding and winding around my rib cage.
Satisfaction and amusement that he obviously likes Adina and enjoys being in her company.
Guilt, sadness, and maybe a little disgruntlement that he obviously likes Adina and enjoys being in her company.
A selfish part of me wanted that special, happy response to be only for his mother.
Selfish because his mother’s not here and he deserves the affection from someone other than me and his grandparents or my teammates. I shouldn’t begrudge my son that.
But I also can’t allow him to become attached to Adina. Both of us understand what this is. And even if I wanted it to be more, it couldn’t be her, no matter how hard she makes my dick or how she brings me some semblance of quiet.
The very nature of her job puts her in the direct path of danger. Most people try their damnedest to avoid it, but she literally runs to and into it. She puts her life on the line every day she goes into work. I lost Kendra to a random accident. Contemplating a future with a woman who willingly runs into burning buildings for a living? No, I can’t do it. Iwon’tdo it. That would be setting me or my son up to experience a pain I’ve barely survived once. I won’t do it again.
So yeah, this is sex and companionship until it isn’t.
Even as the thought runs through my head, I remember that moment in the guest room when my gaze first settled on the pendant hanging around her neck. In that second of anger, of—fuck me—possessiveness and jealousy, it hadn’t felt like just sex and companionship. I’d wanted to snatch it from her neck, burying it along with any thoughts of her former fiancé.
