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ht little cunt.
Once more, she tensed, ready to orgasm.
Shit, he loved it, that she was so hot, so ready to unravel.
With a rough, primal sound, he pulled her arms up and wedged his hips between hers, then covered her sweet mouth with his again, feeling her soften under him, go loose and pliant under his kiss.
He kept her arms up in one arm while he eased on a condom and then he teased her sex with the tip of his swollen cock.
She was liquid heat underneath him. She began to whisper only please, in a way that made him incredibly aroused, her petite body undulating needily against his bigger one, and he couldn’t stop kissing her. Something about her taste intoxicated him, made him rabid for more. So fresh, so real.
He ducked to suckle more of her succulent breasts, feeling her stiffen, and then she burst into orgasm with that alone; with the tip of his cock brushing against her pussy lips and his tongue laving and lapping at her nipples.
She convulsed beneath him with a soft cry, and he released her hands and cupped her face, pushing his tongue as deep as he could into her mouth as she continued climaxing…
He twirled his tongue around hers, again and again, as he started penetrating her. Her grip was so tight, the pleasure so absolute as he plowed through her rippling muscular contractions, he growled and stiffened above her, suspended in the pinnacle of ecstasy as he only managed to thrust once. That was all it took. She was so goddamned tight, so swollen around his straining shaft, her pussy walls immediately squeezed and milked the juice out of him.
His orgasm hit like a tsunami, rocking through his system and tearing across his being. He spilled himself inside her, starting to pump and trying to get deeper, his kiss growing rougher as he dragged his cock in and out of her channel in complete excruciating pleasure.
When their tremors receded, he continued fighting for his breath as he rolled sideways and clutched her to his chest, too spent to notice how sweetly she wrapped herself around him.
Three
“Becks! Open up, Beckham!”
Beckham woke to the consistent knocking on his front door. What time was it? Why was his arm asleep? He realized first, it wasn’t that late. He couldn’t have been asleep for over an hour. It was still night outside, and his drapes were still open. Annnd Sandy Brown was in his bed. Odd. Rather than panic, he felt…at peace.
“Hey,” he said, easing his arm out from under her. “I think it’s Calli.”
Groggily, Sandy sat up in bed, looking plain just glorious in it—by the way—so much that he was hesitant to leave as he eased into his slacks and didn’t even bother to put on a shirt. He lifted a finger and mouthed—one minute—before he left the room.
KNOCK KNOCK KNO—
“Is Sandy with you?” Calli asked the moment he opened. He glanced at his sister, taking in her look of concern. “Is she, Beckham?”
“Why would you think that she is?” He wanted to scowl but in reality he ended up smiling at her like some strutting peacock who just got off.
Inside Sandy.
“Oh, come on! Harrison told me you were salivating after her like a rabid dog. Is she? Her fiancé is looking for her at the club. Please tell her.”
“I will. But don’t be roaming around on your own, Call…”
“I’m not. Harrison’s downstairs.”
“Yeah, tell him I’ll kill him once I get completely dressed.” He shot her a look, and then backtracked mentally on what Calli just said.
Whoa.
Her fucking wha--?!
“You touch my man, and I’ll kill you.” Calli grinned, and Beckham shook his head warningly and clicked the door shut, then headed straight to his room, gazing at the bundle of complications on his bed, his chest hardening. “Your fiancé is looking for you.”
Sandy sat up with the sheets clutched around her, eyes wide and innocent. “Ex fiancé.”
He watched her search his room for her things.
“You were getting married?”
