Page 91 of Spring Tide

She smiles, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Me first.”

Her hands slip out from my boxers. With both palms pressed flat, she pushes at my chest until I shift onto my back, perched halfway up against the headboard.

“Take those off for me,” she demands, nodding below my waist.

With one last hard swallow, I do what she asks. My dick is alarmingly erect at this point, throbbing for attention, and I have to resist the urge to cover myself as she openly gawks.

“It’s so pretty,” she murmurs, moving to caress me with her open palm.

“Jesus, Harper.” I hiss at the contact. “Pretty?”

“Handsome?”

A groan accompanies the roll of my eyes. “Sure.”

She strokes me up and down, two gentle passes that already have me gripping at the sheets. Her grasp is tentative, slow at first. Then she squeezes at the base, dips her head, and wraps her pouty lips around me.

“Fuck, that feels good.”

My head tilts back, and my fingers thread through her hair. I struggle to keep my eyes open, enraptured by the sight of her head bobbing up and down on my cock but completely overwhelmed by the feeling. The pressure’s already building low inside my gut, the threat of release forcing me to tap out early.

“Harper,baby,” I mumble on a groan. “You have to stop.”

She lifts off my dick, mouth parted, eyes glistening as my hands tangle in her hair. With her left thumb, she quickly swipes at her puffy bottom lip—it’s a mental picture I plan on keeping for the rest of my life.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, concern welling behind her eyes.

“I just don’t want to come yet.”

“Oh.”

She shifts again, my arms falling to either side as she moves to straddle me on the bed. Her slick, wet folds press against my lower abdomen, and I nearly come on the spot.

“But I haven’t ... I mean, are you—”

“I’m ready,” she says, cutting me off. “I’m so wet for you, Luca. And I need to feel you inside me.”

Another low groan forces its way up my throat. “Protection?”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen, a spark of guilt settling in. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Let me grab something from my purse really quick.”

In the next breath, she slides off me and bounces over to retrieve a condom. I will my heartbeat to steady as I watch her bend at the waist, her perfect ass on full display.

That’s when I rifle through a series of horrible events inside my head—Jaquan tackling me during our preseason game, the feeling of my knee bending in on itself, the sharp popping sound that rang inside my eardrums—but none of it can subdue the excitement coursing through my veins.God fucking dammit, I’d sure like to last longer than five seconds tonight.

By the time Harper returns, my palms are full-on sweating. She parts her thighs on top of me, rips the condom package open, and slowly, painstakingly rolls it over my throbbing erection.

As she sinks herself down on top of me, I lift my hips to meet her halfway. There’s a moment of brief clarity where I can feel everything—from the tight, warm suction to the low, steady pulsing of her inner walls—before it all fades away into an overwhelming cascade of sensation.

She lifts up and sinks down in a steady rhythm, grinding and slapping against me. Her palms press flat against my chest, so I grip her waist with both hands. My gaze shifts to all my favorite spots—her breasts, her hips, her eyes, her lips, that tiny divot beneath her rib cage—ultimately locking on where we’re joined.

I watch, groaning deep in my throat as she rides me.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” I rasp, squeezing her hips until she’s lifted a good few inches above my waist. As her head tilts back, I fuck into her from below, pounding harder as those little whimpers fade into heavy moans.

With a breathy pant, she begs, “More.”

I grind into her, steadily pumping my hips off the bed. My grip tightens, easily holding her in place while I use my other hand to find her clit.

---