Page 55 of Off Her Game
“Yes. So good.”
He braced an arm around her waist to keep her upright as he began to move. Slow. Then he increased his rhythm until he pounded into her. Over and over until her body shattered for the second time. Several more hard thrusts and he came.
His head dropped onto her back as he held them there, motionless, pulsating and swollen for endless seconds. He gently withdrew and helped her turn so she could rest her head against his chest. His rapid heartbeat pounded in her ear. When she finally glanced up, his blissed-out gaze brought on a surge of tenderness.
“Now come the regrets,” she whispered.
The warmth in his gaze cooled. Something almost dangerous entered his eyes. “No regrets. We sure as hell should’ve done that. Don’t tell me anything about that was wrong.”
“No, it was all good. Everything so right. But…”
“No buts. No psychoanalysis.”
“Okay, no psychoanalysis. So, now what?” she asked.
He scooped her up and carried her to his bedroom. The bed wasn’t made, not that she cared. He tripped and dropped her onto it. She landed harder than expected with her head wedged between two pillows.
He ended up sprawled across her legs. “That went a lot smoother in my mind. Sorry.”
She laughed. “I like that you’re real and not perfect.”
He nipped her thigh as he got off her.
“Oww.” She batted at him.
He traced the mini dragon over her breast. “I like your tattoos. Why dragons?”
“What?”
“Dragons?” he prompted.
“They’re a symbol of power, courage, and strength. They represent to me being fearless of my own life changes. I want to see yours. Where are they?”
“My back.”
“Roll over.” She pulled off his button down and undershirt, and pushed at him until he rolled over. She straddled him just north of his ass. Spiraling tribal-type designs snaked down his spine. “This is beautiful. Does it have any significance?” She leaned forward and kissed the design following it down to its end at the base of his spine.
“That feels good,” he muttered.
She kissed the base of his spine. “Why’d you get this? Looks recent.”
He raised up on his elbows and gazed at her over his shoulder. God, had there ever been anything sexier than his eyes dilated until there was almost no blue left?
“Got it a few years ago. It was a breaking free of the past thing. It was phase one. I just never got to the next phase,” he admitted.
“An attempt to leave Chicken Boy thing in the past?”
“Yeah, something like that. I haven’t gotten up the nerve to get in front of a camera to do PR or an interview. That’s phase two.”
“The ink is sexy. I love it.” She resumed kissing her way along the tattoo. “You’ll find your way to phase two when you’re ready.”
She wanted to see him as mindlessly crazy for her as he’d made her minutes ago. With deliberate slowness she kissed her way down his hard abdomen. She dropped to her knees and licked the tip of his cock.
Noah groaned.
Hoarsely, “You don’t have to—”
She wanted to. Needed to. She traced a finger around the flared tip. God, he was big and long. Uncertainty shattered her concentration. She cast him a startled upward gaze.
