Page 137 of Rescued by the Single Dad

He pressed it again, and her right butt cheek spasmed.

He pressed it a third time, and she moaned loud enough Rocco probably stirred downstairs if he wasn’t wearing earplugs. “Oh God ...”

She reached for a pillow and slammed it over her face.

Normally, he wouldn’t want her to censor or silence herself. He’d want her to rattle the rafters and wake the squirrels, but with Talia down the hall, Rocco downstairs, and their future together having a very imminent expiration date, maybe it was better if she was quieter.

Didn’t mean he was going to be any less attentive, though.

His fingers picked up speed inside her, rubbing faster and harder, always on the anterior wall. He made sure to widen them when he pulled out, stretch her, then press up when he reached the G-spot.

Her clit swelled between his lips as he continued to suck, and her arousal dripped like a constant stream over his fingers.

She was close.

Her head thrashed more beneath the pillow, and her lower half kept tightening and releasing.

He gave her clit one final hard suck, keeping it locked in a tight grip against his tongue, pressed up hard on her G-spot and she exploded.

And squirted.

He pulled his fingers free when he figured the time was right, but kept his mouth locked on her clit, the pressure of the suction still there, as she squirmed and wriggled on the bed. Pants and cries of pleasure were muffled under the pillow, but he didn’t need to hear her to know how much she enjoyed it. He simply had to look between her legs. Watch her pussy gush.

It was beautifully pink and shiny, swollen and so fucking perfect. He moved his mouth down and fucked her with his tongue as she continued to ride the wave of her climax.

She still breathed heavily, still quivered against his mouth when he stood up, grabbed her from behind the knees, notched himself at her center and was about to drive home when she threw the pillow off her face and called for him to stop.

Twin flags of pinks stained her cheeks as she gazed up at him with lustful, hooded eyes.

“Slow. Tender,” she said, reaching for him. “Make love to me, Clint ... please.” Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, and she swallowed. “I want to remember this night forever.”

He wanted that, too.

More than anything.

Nodding, he released her legs, and she crawled up the bed and beneath the covers. He joined her and covered her, sliding between her slick thighs, where she welcomed him with warmth.

Emotion scraped the back of his throat, creating a debilitating lump he struggled to swallow past. The backs of his eyes burned. But he pressed on.

This was what she wanted. This was what she needed.

He needed it, too.

He wanted forever with this woman, but they both realized that was impossible.

Tonight was all they had.

Fully seated inside her now, he started to move.

At first, her arms were around his neck, but she moved them beside her head and gripped the headboard as he drove into her with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Every draw and every plunge pushed him closer to his own release. Pushed him closer to shattering. Heart, soul and everything fucking else.

“Clint,” she whispered, her mouth next to his ear.

He found her hands on the headboard and threaded their fingers together, seeking out that extra bit of touch. Of connection.

He was inside her. On top of her. But still, it wasn’t enough.

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