Page 38 of Sexy Bad Daddy

“It feels so good.” She tries to whisper, but it’s more of a keening sound. The urgency, the desire in it, makes my cock rigid. I flick my tongue over that sensitive spot again and again until she thumps her head against the table. “Oh shit, Garrett. I’m going to, oh, uh, jees—”

Wrapping my hands around her hips, I hold her to my mouth, stroke inside her with my tongue, and feel the muscles in her thighs quiver next to my ears as she cries out. I don’t stop until she does.

When she quiets, I climb to my feet and wipe my chin before pulling her up and kissing her. “I love how you sound when you orgasm. It’s music to my damn ears.”

She squeezes my shoulder, holding me to her while she bites her lip. “Why don’t you make me sing again?”

“I plan on it,” I tell her, tugging her off the table. “That was just the opener.”

She eyes my belt then reaches for the buckle, undoing it and my zipper. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk a big game?”

“Only when it comes to golf.” I grab the condom from my pocket as she sinks to her knees, shoving my pants down to the floor as she goes.

“Well, you do.”

I touch the side of her face as she opens to take me in her mouth. Those lips form a tight seal as they move up and down my length. Watching her suck my cock while she gives me hell for my bedside manner is beautiful. Unique. It makes me want her even more. “The game isn’t important here. This isn’t...” Her hands grip my ass, pulling me more firmly to her. “Oh God. You need to stop or we’re not going to get to the main event.”

She lets me slip from between her lips then wipes the back of her hand across her mouth while she stands up to tap a finger against my lip. “Stop talking about games.”

“Okay.” I grip her wrist, tug her against me. “No games. No lines. I want to fuck you over this table. And probably a whole heap of other places. And then I want to cuddle. Which is fucking weird for me, but that’s what I want.”

“That’s what I want too.” She sits on the edge of the table, and I stretch the condom over my erection and crowd her back against the shining wood.

She gives a little yip when she loses her balance. Gripping the back of her thighs, I lift her up onto the surface and get between her legs. She’s all satiny skin and heat and dark pupils under heavy lids. She reaches between us to squeeze my cock and guide it to her entrance, and I kiss her long and hard as I push into her slowly.

The heavy table shifts and scrapes on the floor to the rhythm of our unhurried thrusting. Her hands exploring my skin and the tiny whimpers she makes under my mouth push me to go faster, harder, deeper. Her whole body moves up the table as I piston into her, and I crawl over her until we’re both on the table. I slide a hand under her and press it to the small of her back, holding her closer as I slam into her and she cries out. Under us, the table creaks and groans with all the pounding. Lemon-scented furniture polish blends with sweat. She slaps her hand across her mouth, but it doesn’t make her quiet. Slipping my hand over hers, I press my lips to her ear. “Come with me.”

She jerks her chin, her eyes shining, and screams into our hands as her muscles clench around me, making my own climax follow on the heels of hers. I don’t know how I lasted a week without doing this. I sure as hell can’t wait another week to have her in my arms like this again. As we both catch our breath, I rest my chin against her damp shoulder. “I want you to come to the next tournament with me.”

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