Page 90 of Hometown Touchdown
“Tell me what you want, baby girl,” he whispers into the hollow of my throat. His voice is sinful.
I don’t hesitate. “I want to make love.”
His breath leaves him in a ragged exhale. Like I hit him in the chest with the force of it. “Yeah?” His hand cups my cheek now, grounding me. “You want it slow?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Slow first. Then I want you to ruin me.”
The growl that vibrates from his chest is pure male satisfaction. “You’re being such a good girl for me, asking for what you need.”
That praise. That heat. My brain short-circuits.
With a reverence that makes my throat tight, he begins to slide the jacket from my shoulders, inch by slow inch. Like he’s unwrapping something sacred. And when I’m finally bare beneath him, laid out like a gift, I don’t feel shy. I feel dangerous.
His mouth trails between my breasts. His palms cupping me like he’s holding me steady, grounding us both.
“Fuck, Brynn,” he rasps, his voice full of gravel and reverence. “You’re so goddamn beautiful. You’re mine. You hear me? Noone else will ever get to see you like this, touch you like this, love and fuck you like this.”
But then his expression shifts—just slightly. That soft flicker of concern that melts me.
“Hey.” His thumb brushes over my cheek. “Do you need anything? I remembered what you said and grabbed lube—just in case.”
God.
This man. This dirty, fiercely loyal, utterly thoughtful man. He remembered. He sees me, even here, even now.
I blink fast, trying to clear the heat in my eyes.
“You okay?” he asks again, voice gentler now. “Talk to me, baby.”
“I’m more than okay,” I breathe, heart aching in the best way. “You can grab it just in case. But the way you’re taking care of me…that alone might be enough.”
Something shifts behind his eyes—dark and molten.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises. “I’ll hold back if you want me to. But Brynn…fuck.” He leans in close, breath hot against my ear. “If I lose control…if I end up fucking you like I’ve dreamed of for six goddamn years, it’s because I missed every inch of you. Every noise you make. Every shiver. I need this more than I need air.”
I moan, nails biting into his shoulders as I crush our mouths together, the kiss messy and desperate. I wrap my legs around his waist, hips rolling up to meet him.
“I’m okay with that,” I pant, every inch of me vibrating.
“Need a condom,” he mutters, reaching toward the drawer.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Nothing between us, please? I’m clean.”
His body goes still. His eyes flare. “Shit, Brynn…I’ve never felt you bare before.”
“I want to feel everything.”
He lines himself up, his focus locked entirely on me. There’s no rush, no fumbling. Just reverence and heat and love.
He presses in—slow, steady. Stretching me. Filling me.
We both cry out when he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, nails digging into his back. The fullness is dizzying. Perfect.
“Open your eyes, baby girl,” he says, voice dark and commanding. “I want you to see how good you take me. How perfectly this pussy fits me.”
I force my eyes open, drawn to where we’re joined, the slick, sinful image as intoxicating as the feel of him inside me.
