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He wanted her to come on his tongue.
His cock was so hard it was a tight fit inside his pants. He didn’t care. Tabby thrust up against him, moaning his name. He loved the sound more than anything.
Moving back up to her clit, he focused on the tight nub, drawing circles, sliding back and forth. Her body changed as the orgasm started to take effect. A nice flush crept up her body, and the instant she spilled over the edge, he saw it, felt it, and he rode that wave with her, using his tongue.
His name a perfect mantra spilling out into the room.
Afterward, he pressed a kiss to her pussy.
Tabby suddenly shot up into a sitting position. She nudged him back and before he knew what was happening, she had his waist straddled. Her arms were around his neck, and he ran his hands up her back, cupping the back of hers as she ground herself against him.
Together, they reached down to deal with his jeans, both of them wanting them out of the way. All he wanted was to be inside her.
With his dick out, he worked the length. Tabby positioned herself over him, lining the tip to her entrance, and he watched as she took him.
Inch by inch, she slid down, and he fucked his way up inside her. They both moaned together.
The pleasure instant.
Intense.
Tabby’s arms came around him, holding him close.
He thrust up against her as she bounced on his dick. Their movements in perfect synch, as it was always supposed to be.
She arched up. Those gorgeous tits pressed against his face, and he took one, licking the tip of each one.
He couldn’t let her go, not that he wanted to.
She was perfection.
“Fuck, Tabby, do you have any idea what you do to me?” He growled the words against her lips, but she didn’t say anything. All she did was ride his cock. Her eyes closed and his orgasm began to build. Feeling her slick, pulsing pussy. It was more than he could stand and no way he could make this last any longer.
He came, grabbing her hips, holding her firmly in place as he spilled every single last part of him inside her, flooding her pussy with his cum as he did so. Over and over, he gave her it all.
She collapsed against him as the last of his release ebbed away.
“I love you too, Simon. I just don’t like you.”Chapter ElevenTabby rolled over, wondering why she was in bed at five o’clock in the afternoon. She never took naps during the day. Only when Nathan had been little had she allowed herself that kind of luxury, and it had been right after her parents had advised her she do it, otherwise, she was perfectly content to not ever do it.
Sitting up on the bed, she heard voices. Loud male voices. It kind of reminded her of home.
Swinging her legs off the side of the bed, she lifted herself up and slowly made her way toward the window in the sitting room. The front door was closed but she wasn’t willing to just go and see what all the fuss was about without at least having a peak first.
Nibbling on her lip, she looked out the window to see Simon in the center, slapping hands with—she frowned. Five guys? No, six. There was Dean loading something off the back of a small pickup truck.
She didn’t recognize it.
Folding her arms, she watched the men. They were close, she saw that. Were these the men he’d met during his time away? Why hadn’t he come and gotten her? Was he embarrassed by her?
One of the men headed toward the door. She didn’t move away from the window. She kept her stance, waiting for him to enter.
He was a large man, but then they were all large. One of them was huge though, well over six feet, and seemed to tower over the group. He stood next to Simon, head thrown back, laughing at something said.
Simon wasn’t that funny.
This guy glanced over at her.
“Oh, hi,” he said. “Si said you were sleeping. We didn’t wake you up, did we?”
“I wasn’t sleeping.” She kept her gaze on the window.
“You’re Tabby, I take it.”
She turned toward him. “You know my name.”
“Of course. All of the guys know your name. Simon wasn’t exactly secretive about the woman he had back home. He talked about you a whole lot.”
“He did?”
“Yep. You’re pretty special to him. We all know that.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Pa.”
Tabitha frowned. “Pa?”
“Yeah, that’s me. I’m Pa. The real name is Patrick but because I’m the oldest one of the guys, they decided to name me Pa, as if I’m some kind of dad to all of them.” He started to chuckle. “I guess I am. I was the one who always made sure we had something to eat. A place to stay. That kind of shit.”
