Page 37 of Pucking Dirty

"Fuck!" he growls, bucking his hips.

I moan around him, already in heaven. There's just something about this man with his dick in my mouth that's utterlyirresistible. His hands tighten in my hair, his hips rocking as if he can't stop the involuntary movements.

"Keep that up and I'll be taking more," he warns me when I reach up to fondle his balls.

My womb clenches, a heatwave rolling through me. I have the power here, but he's still the one in control. Maybe I shouldn't love that so damn much, but I do. The exchange of power is intoxicating.

I roll his heavy balls, tugging gently.

"Fucking hell. You're trying to kill me."

He isn't wrong. I like him out of control. I like him wild. And I really like when he's so turned on that he can't think about anything but me.

He grips my hair, angling my head as he thrusts forward. His dick hits the back of my throat, my lips stretched wide around him.

"Damn, you look beautiful like this, Emilia. Exactly like a fucking angel on her knees," he groans.

I whimper around him, slipping my hand into my pants.

"Oh, fuck yeah, baby girl. Play with my pussy for me."

I should not love that he calls it his pussy as much as I do, but I'm soaking wet as I flick my panties aside, my fingers flying across my clit. He grunts, his eyes locked on my hands as he fucks my face harder. His cock hits the back of my throat again and again, each thrust driving me higher, making me wetter. So does every filthy, devoted word that leaves his lips.

"Too bad your mouth is so fucking full right now," he growls, bucking his hips against my face. "I can't hear you moaning my name. You know how much I love it when you're moaning for me like a good little girl."

I moan around him, already on the verge of an orgasm.

"Are you going to come for me? You better," he says, pulling my hair to angle my head. "I'm not going to give you what you want and come down this perfect throat until you do."

I claw at his thigh with my free hand, choking on him as the coil shrinks.

"Christ, you're everything to me."

I shatter like crystal at his confession, cracking apart at the seams. Waves roll over me, annihilating me.

He groans my name, his muscles quivering as he tries to pull back, but that isn't what I want. I follow him, keeping him right where he is. His eyes meet mine, so much emotion in them I can't breathe. I can't think. I fucking drown in him as he growls my name, his seed splashing across my tongue and down my throat.

I swallow eagerly, greedily, drinking him down with my eyes locked with his. Every last damn drop he spills.

"Fuck," he whispers when he's so sensitive he's shaking. He pulls back, slipping from my lips.

I smile up at him…and then I'm in his arms, his mouth on mine as he kisses me, stealing my air and making it his own.

"You fucking own me, Emilia," he breathes against my lips. "You hear me? You own me."

"You own me too, Nash," I whisper.

"Lariat." Logan drops into the booth beside me, grinning. "Haven't seen you around the locker room lately."

We're at a bar downtown with the team. They're flying out for another game in the morning, so we're hanging out while we have the chance. Nash insisted I come with him. I wasn't entirely sold on the idea, but Alice is here too. So is Logan's new assistant, Peyton.

I'm glad I came. It's been a lot of fun.

"And I haven't seen you in my office," I retort, eyeing Logan over the rim of my wineglass. "But I know you've been getting my emails. You've responded to them."

"Yeah, and I responded no." He smirks at me. "That means I'm not coming, Doc."

"Not a doctor. But fine, then I guess I'll be seeing you in the locker room again soon." I eye him levelly, refusing to give up that easily. Between his sister and the way he keeps looking at Peyton, he very obviously has a lot going on in his life. He may hide it behind that devil-may-care attitude, but I'm not fooled. The man needs someone he can talk to about it, and from what I know, he doesn't share much with the guys.

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