Page 55 of Dirty Pool

And he couldn’t fucking get enough.

Michel wrapped his palms around her ass to hold her steady as her movements became more frantic the closer she came to her orgasm. Her thighs tightened around his head, and he looked up to see her fingers digging into the leather-covered headboard as her head tipped back, and the sexiest moan fell from her lips.

“Oh, my God … Michel.”

Yeah, nothing better.

She shuddered when he drew her clit between his lips, and sucked hard on the bud. Her thighs clenched as she broke all apart above him, those cries becoming breathless with every spasm of her body. He decided, too, that nothing was better than watching Gabbie get off because he was the one making her do it.

It was primal, really. That tightening in his chest, and the male pride that coursed through his system. His fucking cock ached like nothing else, which wasn’t something he bothered to hide when she slid down his body like a cat who had just gotten her cream. That sexy smile curving her pink lips teased him as she drifted lower on the bed until her hands were stroking him awake, too.

Her fingers flexed around his cock—stroking him harder at the tip, and then looser at the base. And when she added her mouth to the mix, too? Sucking him as she jerked him off?

Michel had no fucking control. His hands fisted into those red curls of hers, and his hips lifted to get just a little bit more of his dick into the wet, warm heat of her mouth. That tongue of hers flicked and flattered against the head of his cock every time she came up again, making him see stars whenever he closed his eyes.

“Holy fuck,” Michel grunted out. “You’re going to make me blow my load if you don’t slow down.”

She didn’t seem to care.

He was fine with that.

Michel lost himself in the feeling of her mouth and hands working his dick while he reveled in the silkiness of her hair tangling with his fingers, not to mention the curve of her back, and the peak of her ass as she lifted it higher.

Yeah.

He came harder than he expected.

Gabbie took every fucking drop, too.

Was it supposed to be this hard to breathe?

Michel released Gabbie’s hair from his grip, so that he could scrub his hands down his face and try to see straight again. As he blinked, and peeked through his fingers, he watched her rest along the curves of his body, her softer form melding perfectly with his hard lines.

God.

She was a sight.

“That was a great way to wake up,” she told him, grinning.

Michel chuckled. “Tell me about it, although that’s not what I meant to do.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Why?”

“It’s five—nobody is going to see you leave my house because I doubt any of them are watching me right now. It’s a Sunday. Everybody will be trying to get as much sleep as they can before they have to show up and make face at church.”

That was just how it worked for made men.

Michel lived his whole life watching it.

“So, you woke me up, and then decided to eat my pussy just so you could tell me I had to leave?”

He eyed her, and shrugged. “Kind of, yeah.”

She smacked his side lightly with her palm. “Arsehole.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

And he would.