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I blew him until his thighs started to shake, and he threw a bottle of lube at my head. Chuckling, I asked, “I thought you wanted me to go slow?”
“We have all night,” he responded, but one night with him would never be enough.
27
WHITT
Nothing else mattered right now. Not the game, not the fans, not my parents showing up. Just Tucker. I was single-mindedly focused on him as he did his best to drive me out of my mind, licking and sucking me. He ignored the lube I’d thrown at him and the desperate noises coming out of my mouth as I tried to resist coming too fast—an issue I’d only ever had with him. But the fucker knew exactly what he was doing, and he did it with a focus and determination that was equal parts intoxicating and infuriating, much like the man himself.
Gathering what willpower I had left, I pushed him off me and forced him onto his back, taking over control as I straddled him.
He reached for my hips automatically, a wicked grin painting his lips because he thought he knew how this was gonna go.
I caught his wrists and guided them back toward his head. “Uh-uh,” I said with a tsk. “Those stay up there. No touching.”
“Oh yeah?” He arched an amused brow, then moaned as I tilted my hips so my rigid cock glided along his.
“Yeah.” I wanted him inside me so badly it was hard not to just lube him up and slide down on his cock, but I was a sucker, too, for the way ecstasy played over his face, tensed his jaw, the ragged puffs of air that escaped his lips every time my dick brushed his.
I curled over him, hands pinning his wrists once more, and kissed him, the increased friction between us and the familiar taste of him making me dizzy. “Tell me you want this ass. I wanna hear it.”
“You know I fucking do. Forever and always.” Tucker groaned, arching his hips.
He looked so fucking sexy this way and so very, very…mine. It was a heady, powerful sensation to know how far we’d come and that he was still mine, and I was his.
Reaching behind me, I fiddled the cap off the lube and slicked us up quickly. Tucker’s eyes fluttered closed, and he took a deep breath, his whole body practically vibrating with the force of his restraint as I positioned him at my entrance.
“Fuck yes, baby.” The muscles along his forearm tensed as I slid lower, taking him inside me inch by slow inch.
Unadulterated bliss consumed me, and I gasped, gritting my teeth as his thick cock stretched me open. I could tell he was fighting the urge to break free of my grasp and grab me, slam deeper inside me. With the first roll of my hips, his nostrils flared as a grunt escaped him.
“Goddamn, you feel good,” I whispered, and his body shuddered beneath me. I wasn’t gonna last long, and the bulging veins in Tucker’s neck told me he was in the same shape. I licked one of them and then nipped it as I rode him slowly, trying to draw us both out. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Tucker’s hazy gaze latched on mine, a solemnity surfacing in his dark eyes that matched the way I felt inside. I let go of his wrists and slid my palms up, fingers lacing with his, a trail of heated tingles racing over my skin everywhere we touched. I couldn’t imagine ever going without it. Going without him.
I picked up the pace,thighs smacking his and my breath growing ragged as pressure built inside me. And then I couldn’t hold on any longer. I pressed my forehead against his and fucked him hard and fast, wave after wave of pleasure sending me over the edge and dragging Tucker with me. I cried out as my release tore through me, every thrust of his cock sending another hot spurt of my cum over his abdomen until we were both wrung dry, our hearts beating a wild rhythm against each other.
I collapsed on top of him and gave myself over to the warm, postorgasmic haze. I’d been all over the world in my life, but being tangled up with Tucker was easily my favorite place.
He brushed a sweaty strand of hair from my forehead and then turned my face toward his, eyes still touched with intensity. “You mean that about me being the best thing that ever happened to you?”
“Yeah.” It was an easy confession.
“You’re always mine?”
“Always yours,” I said, rubbing my thumb over his lower lip before I kissed it.
* * *
One week later
The first time I’d ever gone to the Super Bowl, my parents had taken me. It was the one and only time they had, and it had only happened because they were trying to woo the bigwigs of some other corporation. We’d sat near the fifty-yard line. I’d been eight, my love for the sport just undefined, casual interest back then. But the energy in the stadium had captivated me—it was so electric, all of the people in the stands cheering, the players on the field going for broke in the biggest event of their careers. I’d gone home on fire for the sport, begging my parents to let me play in a peewee league, and probably assuming it’d be a passing fancy, they had.
This was the first time I’d attended not just as a spectator but as someone deeply invested in the outcome. I’d never wanted anything as bad in my life as I wanted Tucker to take home a ring.Tucker had played it cool all morning, but I knew he was feeling it, too, and was doing his best to stay calm and centered.
“Bring me home a ring,” I’d texted him earlier.
“I got you, baby,” he’d replied, and it was such a damn Tucker thing to say that I’d burst into laughter.
