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Weston smirked, drawing the head of his cock around my pulsing clit.
“Look at you,” he said, pushing up enough to look down at me. “You’re all flushed and needy. So fucking beautiful.”
“Wes,” I begged, dragging my nails lightly down his chest. He groaned at the touch, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “Please.”
“God, Brynn,” he said, leaning down to brush a kiss over my lips. “I love it when you say my name like that.”
“Wes,” I said it again, coaxing the word out like a caress.
He growled lowly, shifting between my thighs, situating himself right at my entrance—
And thrust inside until he bottomed out.
My back bowed beneath him, a lick of flame striking down the center as he pulled out and did it again. Each motion was slow, deliberate, and dragged out my building pleasure. His strong chest pressed against mine as he pumped inside me, our bodies flush, my breasts rubbing against him with each move, electrifying my entire body.
This time was different.
I don’t know how, but it was. I could feel it in the way he was taking his time, could see it every time his rich brown eyes met mine. My heart expanded in my chest, filling my soul with a sense of completion and need I couldn’t possibly contain.
He pulled all the way out only to slide right back in, his pelvic bone grinding against my throbbing clit with each thrust. My muscles tensed, everything inside me tightening. I dug my nails into his back, rocking my hips up to meet every one of his moves until we fell into a rhythm that had both of us breathing ragged.
“Omigod,” I moaned when he held still inside me for a few seconds, stretching out the anticipation as my body shivered around his. “Wes,” I moaned his name, and he reached up, flattening his hand over my mouth.
My eyes flew wide, sparks shooting down my spine at the restraint. He watched my eyes as he resumed his pumping, pounding into me harder, faster. Heat coiled inside me, ratcheting up until I could hardly think around the building sensation.
I bucked beneath him, meeting him with the same intensity.
“Fuck,” he groaned, and my hand flew to his mouth, covering it exactly as he did mine. He growled against my hand, but didn’t slow his pace.
I moaned against his hand, the sound muffled as he thrust inside me, each quickened thrust smacking my aching clit until—
I clenched around him, my orgasm shuddering down my body in hot waves. He groaned against my hand, driving one orgasm right into another as he found his release inside me.
For a moment, we just lay there, catching our breath as we both looked at each other, our hands covering each other’s mouths. I smiled against his, and then he laughed as we slowly pulled our hands away.
I laughed too, unable to stop the joy spreading throughout every inch of me.
“Was that anything like you imagined?” I asked after he’d cleaned us up and we’d settled under his covers. I’d sneak off to my room later, but for now, I just wanted him to hold me.
He tucked me closer against his chest, holding me tight before looking down at me and smiling. “Better,” he said, planting a soft, sweet kiss on my lips. “Better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
I swallowed hard, unable to open my mouth to respond, because in that moment I fell even harder for him, and I knew if I spoke, I’d tell him.
And I wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
WESTON
Ilingered by the silent auction table at the Raptors’ most recent charity gala, more to take a moment to breathe than to browse.
The last three hours had been a whirlwind of hand shaking, fine dining, and asking for donations for Doctors Without Borders, all in between dancing to live music and making sure none of my Raptors pulled any stunts that would land us on the social sites before tomorrow’s news.
I had a good team, with only a few pranksters, and so far, the night had gone off without a hitch. And as much as I loved these events, especially for all the funds they raised for charity, I would much rather be at home, Brynn tucked under my arm as we binge-watched more of her favorite reality show and stuffed our faces with ice cream.
Fuck, when had that become my life? And how the hell had I gotten lucky enough to land one like it?
“How’s it looking?” Nixon asked as he and Roman sauntered over to where I’d been hiding, both of them wearing suits that looked similar to my own—slick, black, and expensive.
“I’ve got my eye on that mountain biking trip in Morocco trip,” I said, pointing down the table where all the silent auction items were listed.
