Page 94 of What About Us

I want her.

I never stop wanting her.

Watching her work with the medical staff this morning was a huge turn-on. It’s a good thing she was making me do some exercises so I didn’t get hard.

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t want me to lick up your inner thigh? To that little spot by your hip that always makes you squirm.”

“Xander.”

“I know you love it when I pull your nipple between my teeth and push my thigh between your legs so you can ride it, trying to ease that ache between your legs.”

“Xander Andrew Hendrix.”

“Not my middle name, Red. But it’s fine. We can stay here for the next three hours and watch this game.”

She stands up, pulls me to my feet, and makes me follow her back to the private bathroom that every box has. She yanks me inside, closes and locks the door, and turns to me with hungry blue eyes.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

She doesn’t say a word, she just lowers to her knees and grabs for my jeans.

“Baby, you don’t have to⁠—”

“You make me crazy in the best fucking way,” she says, urgently opening my pants and working them down my hips, and when she has my cock in her sweet little hands, I hiss and lean both palms on the wall behind her as she licks up the side of my dick and over the head, over the metal there, and then she sinks over it, putting as much as she can in her mouth, and sucks.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ivy.”

She hums and cups my balls as she works her pretty little mouth up and down my shaft. She pulls back long enough to say, “Pull my hair,” and I’m pretty sure I could come just from those words alone.

I fist her hair at the back of her head and guide her up and down, and she hums, closes her eyes in contentment, and hollows her cheeks to suck me harder.

“Baby, I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

She scowls up at me.

“Fuck. Jesus, you’re amazing. You like my cock, wildcat? You like sucking my cock and playing with my balls?”

She whimpers, and that’s all I can take. I pull her to her feet. She’s wearing leggings under the jersey, but she’s also still in her shoes.

“Shoes off,” I tell her, and she immediately follows my orders, and then I help her out of the leggings and finally lift her, wrap her perfect legs around my waist, and brace her against the wall. She circles my neck with her arms and meets my lips halfway, kissing me with pure, unadulterated need.

My cock slips through her sopping wet slit, making us both groan.

“Do you have any idea what it does to me”—I bury my face in her neck and bite the soft flesh there—“to see you in my name? There’s nothing fucking sexier than you in my jersey, Ivy Rose Bensen.”

She blinks up at me. “How do you know my middle name?”

“Wow, I guessed it right.” I’m smug as fuck as I guide my cock to her opening and push inside, hard, making her gasp. “You make me fucking crazy. Can’t. Get. Enough.”

With each word, I slam into her, and her hands dive into my hair, gripping so tight it makes my scalp stretch.

“Your snug little pussy was made for me.”

“Your big-as-fuck, pierced cock was made for me,” she says, and bites my lower lip.

“I love your sassy mouth.”

I fuck her hard, the way I know she likes it, and then she’s clenching down on me and biting my shoulder so she doesn’t cry out as the orgasm washes over her.