Page 71 of Body Lock

With a mouth full of toast, he shook his head yes. “That was our first big win. God, that was eight years ago, I looked good at seventeen, huh?” His words sloshed out between chewing.

Laughing loudly, I said, “Full of yourself, huh?” Taking the plate he had prepared for me, I rested the picture on the coffee table. “Thank you. You didn't have to do this.” Placing the dish on my thighs, I couldn't stop the grin holding my cheeks up. “Scrambled eggs, one of my favorites.”

“And one of the easiest to cook. Fair warning, I can't promise they're good.” Winking, he lifted a piece of blackened bacon, crunching it between his teeth.

I felt like I was floating on a cloud, in some alternate universe that belonged to my polar opposite. I was sitting next to the first person who had ever gone out of their way to do something nice for me, and it was hard to grasp.

My entire existence had been spent doing what my father told me to do. Following his rules, working to fill his pockets, and striving to feel any sense of gratitude from him.

I had been a slave to his wishes, to his demands. We had been poor for so many years, I had no birthdays, no Christmas, nothing. When he did finally start to get ahead with his fighting ring and the bar, I still gained nothing.

He paid me two dollars and change plus tips to work the bar, and I didn't even get to keep it all. My father made a mockery of what being a parent was all about.

Letting my head fall to Quinn's shoulder, my fingers danced gingerly across the muscles of his chest, outlining his ink. Walking down each hard ripple, I traced the trim of his blue shorts, his cock jumping underneath.

The shape firmed, his tip visible despite the barrier. “What? Are you ready for brunch now?” His hand squeezed my thigh, slinking up to the hidden, bare skin of my sex.

“I was just snuggling, you're the one getting all excited.” Tapping the head of his cock, I giggled.

The thick muscle bounced as he shifted himself lower into the couch. Spreading his legs apart, his length stood up, forcefully trying to break through. “Babe, I'm sitting here next to you, of course I'm excited. You drive me fucking crazy, I can't get enough of you.” Wrapping his hand around the shaft, he pulled the cloth tight, gently stroking himself as he gyrated his hips.

Quinn's finger dipped beneath my shirt, delicately sliding up and down, spreading the wetness as he eased inside. My body shivered as he pressed his finger deeper, curling the tip into my sweet spot.

I wanted him to fuck me again, wanted to feel his cock press my swelling heat. His touch was magic, a well trained art he had definitely perfected over the years.

A twinge of jealousy flooded my belly, thinking of him and what his past would look like. What amount of women it would have taken for him to know all the right areas to touch and kiss.

But that was in the past, it wasn't right now, it wasn't here.

Here, it was just us.

Leaning in, his lips dabbed gentle kisses down my neck. Each one touched my skin just barely enough to feel, yet my body still quivered. Tingles crossed through each muscle, my eyes slowly closing, head tilting to the side instinctively.

I wanted to live in this moment, and hold onto it for as long as possible.

Nothing in my life ever lasted, at least nothing that was worth wishing for anyway.

Quinn's hand gripped around my wrist, pulling it over to his thick cock. I ran my fingers over his shaft, pulling it free. Following the engorged veins, swelling with desire, I squeezed his length hard. A wild grunt burned from inside him, Quinn's head dropped back, chest lifting rapidly.

Slipping a second finger inside my silky pussy, I couldn't hold back, my hips rocked against his palm, forcing him in as far as my body would allow. “Ahh, Quinn.” The words trickled out one letter at a time.

“You're so fucking wet, it's dripping down my wrist.” His tongue licked his lower lip, hand grabbing mine on his cock, quickening the pace.

Jerking him forcefully, his muscle throbbed against my palm, hips lifting up to meet my hand. I watched his chest firm, ribs flexing with need to inhale. Turning to meet my gaze, his eyes were glossy, sweat glistening across his forehead.

Quinn reached his hand up, fingers wrapping around my neck. With one fluent motion, he had me bent over the arm of his couch. Tearing my shirt up over my ass, his fingers still buried inside me.

A loud smack rang through the room, a searing sting buzzed over my ass. “Fuck, look at that ass, it's perfect.” Trying to free his fingers from my pussy, I squeezed around him tighter. I didn't want him to stop, I needed to feel his touch.

With a soft slurp, he was free, his warm digits gliding over my thigh and up to my hip. Digging his nails in, he pushed me lower, forcing my back to bend, lifting my ass higher.

Turning my head to look over my shoulder, I said, “Fuck me, Quinn.” Rolling my hips, the twist mimicked by my back side. My two mounds proudly on display, ready to feel him, all of him, every last inch.

Gripping his cock, he slid the tip along my soaked entrance, I wanted him so fucking badly, I tried to lean back and force him inside. I couldn't wait anymore, my body was buzzing with excitement, sparks crawled through my belly. He needed to fuck me now.

His tongue snapped against the roof of his mouth, tisking me. “Now, now, patience, love.”

“Stop teasing me.” The arch of my back deepened, my ass pressed up as high as I could push it. “I need- Ahh! Quinn!” His cock thrust in hard before I could finish speaking, smooth and naked, nothing between us.

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