Page 47 of Sweeper
Daphney doesn’t make it fucking easy.
She bites her lip and ditches her tights before positioning herself on the bed. Her blonde hair cascades over her white pillow as she spreads herself open to me. Her smooth mound glistens in the dim overhead lighting. She looks like a goddamn angel, and I’m the devil dragging her over to the dark side.
The bed dips as I move toward her, and a fleeting look of anxiety crosses her features. “Do you want me to stop?” I ask, my cock weeping inside the rubber.
She shakes her head as her cool, soft hands reach out to pull me closer causing her breasts to brush across my chest. “Don’t stop.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I reach down and drag my fingers along her hot center. “Daphney, you’re fucking soaked,” I croak, my voice sounding like a completely different person.
She squirms against my gentle caress, and with her eyes closed, she reaches down and grabs my hand, thrusting my fingers inside her.
“Holy fuck,” I groan as she rides my hand for a moment, her lips parted, her noises unbearably sexy.
She’s more than a fucking fantasy. She’s a goddamn wet dream come true. She’s immortal. She’s legendary. She’s all the things. Soft and supple. Sweet and innocent. Brave and spicy. And best of all, needy, wanting, and not afraid to show it.
The best fucking combination.
I thrust my fingers into her slowly, enraptured by the way she moves. I want to take this slow so I can savor it. I also want to race to the finish line because I’m so fucking turned on.
My dick hardens painfully as she arches her chest toward me, begging my lips to give her breasts more attention. Leaning down, I lick my way around her nipple, enjoying the surprise in her moan as I latch on and suck hard while my fingers speed up. Her slick heat drenches my digits as my cock strains between us.
I focus on my breathing, determined to make her come when she pushes my head away from her breast with a wild look in her eyes. “Now,” she says, her head nodding as she hooks her heels around my ass and pulls me close. “I need you now, Zander.”
I’m at a rare loss for words as she moves my fingers out of her center and positions my cock at her apex. When I begin to push inside her, her head flattens against the pillow, and she bites down hard on her lip. I push in to the hilt and freeze. Fuck, she feels amazing. Tight and warm, like the perfect hug for my cock. I pull back and thrust again, this time going even deeper as her wetness coats me. Her back arches off the bed, and her tits thrust up toward my face. My control snaps as I devour her nipples and neck and begin pumping wildly inside her as I do it. I want to taste every inch of Daphney’s body.
She cries out, but I do my best to block out her noises so I don’t come too soon. Can’t come too soon. Need her to come first or I’ll never fucking forgive myself.
I begin outlining the Bethnal Green playbook in my head to tear my focus away from her. I’ve been studying them every night since I arrived, but a refresher never hurts.
Goddamn, tonight’s game was epic. My connection on the field with Booker—and Finney’s eyes when he realized I was here to stay—was everything I wanted my first week I arrived. Now I get to top all of that off with a great lay from my neighbor who made me a fucking cookie.
Which was awful, by the way.
Tasted like playdough.
But it was oatmeal raisin, and I gutted it down like a champ because the fact that I didn’t have to break my ritual of a cookie reward after every win means more to me than I’ll ever tell her.
I’m jolted back into the moment when Daphney’s nails stab into my back, and the sensation of her sex clamping down around me is the most intense female orgasm my cock has ever felt. She groans my name, and the hoarse tone of it sounds way too fucking good for me to last a second longer.
With a guttural moan, I press my face into her neck as I empty myself inside her with shocking savagery, my cock pulsing inside the tight condom as every nerve in my body gyrates over top of her.
Once my brain revives itself, I roll off Daphney, sweaty, out of breath, and in desperate need of some sleep. I sit up and make my way into her bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean myself up. That was fucking intense. More than I expected of my cute, nagging neighbor, who I’m pretty sure still hates my guts even after sex.
When I return a few moments later, Daphney’s sitting up in bed, fully dressed in her silk pajamas that she wasn’t wearing a second ago. She has a notebook and pen clutched tightly in her hands, and she looks like she’s making a damn grocery list.
My brows furrow as I stand naked in her apartment. “You good?”
She hits me with a bright, toothy smile. “I’m excellent. You?”
“Um…I’m good,” I reply, feeling a bit bewildered. “Should I…?”
“Go back to yours? Yes, that would be perfect,” Daphney says brightly, her eyes not even glancing at my cock that’s still semi-hard and not totally ready for bed. “Do you want another cookie for the road?”
My head snaps back. “Um…no. Just one is good.”
“Cool. I’ll see you later then, yeah?” She brings the pen to her mouth and stares intently at her notebook like she’s trying to solve some sort of puzzle.
“Um, okay.” I run a hand through my hair that feels like it’s grown two feet from her fingers running through it all night. As I stumble around and get dressed, I wonder if I’m getting blown off? Was it not good for her? It was good for me. Mind-blowingly good for me, even if I did have to think about corner kick formations that have zero fucking sex appeal. But I did that for her benefit. So I could make sure she got off. And she one hundred percent got off. Her pussy was like a vise-grip on my cock. It was so tight, I wondered if I might have been trapped there forever.
