Filfthy(44)
“You going to be my naughty girl tonight?” His voice is deep, reverberating through his chest and against mine.
I nod, biting my lip before kissing him again.
“Tell me how bad you want me,” he commands.
“So bad.” I kiss him. “I want you so bad . . . I want you inside me.”
“I’m going to make you come so hard you can’t breathe, gorgeous,” he growls. “I’m going to fuck you harder tonight than I ever have because I want you to know you’re mine. I don’t want you to forget. This sweet pussy of yours belongs to me. No one but me, do you understand?”
I nod, pressing my lips against his strained, muscled neck as my hands wash down his chiseled chest.
“I mean it, Delilah.” He stops until my gaze meets him. “Your body belongs to me and only me.”
My head tilts. “Fine. Then it’s only fair that your cock is my property too.”
Glancing up, I notice a security camera trained on the backyard and another pointed at the pool.
“Are those things on?” I ask.
“Always,” he says.
“Are we being recorded?”
“The tapes are deleted once a week automatically,” he says. “I’m the only one who has access to them. I have to have a security system, Delilah. Now, come on. I’m dying here.”
His lips inch at the sides, and he lets me slide down his body. His hands on my hips, he turns me to face a jet along the pool wall. Positioning my body in the right spot, he ensures the air stream blows against my clit just enough to heighten this entire experience, as if it weren’t already incredible.
“Spread your legs, gorgeous,” he says into my ear, pressing the head of his cock between my ass and dragging it lower. “Let me remind you why you came here and why it is you can’t stay away no matter how hard you try.”
Our naked bodies are wrapped in warm beach towels as I lie in his arms in a swinging hammock. The humid Florida heat blankets us as the salt water evaporates from our skin.
He smells like summer.
Like suntan lotion and coconut and sea salt and aftershave. And his skin is warm and soft beneath my palms, wrapped over a layer of muscles fit for a professional football player.
I get it.
And I’ll never judge another ball bunny again.
Football players are sexy and strong and virile, and I’m pretty sure the big hands to big cock correlation is more fact that fiction.
A symphony of crickets and bullfrogs fill the quiet night as stars light the sky above us. This is a million times more romantic than it should be, but I can’t bring myself to leave yet. I’m comfortable here in his arms. And his fingers are tracing circles into my shoulders and my ear is pressed into his chest and it just feels . . . amazing.
Daphne was right. Nothing amazing ever happens when you sit at home.
“I like us when we’re not fighting,” he says, breaking the silence.
I look up at him. “That came out of nowhere.”
He shrugs. “Just making an observation.”
“I’ve never had pool sex before.”
“That’s random.”
“Just making an observation.” I flash him a smile.
“Glad I could be the one to pop your pool-sex cherry.”
“That sounds disgusting.” My tongue pokes from between my teeth.
“It sounded better in my head.” He kisses the top of my forehead. I’m not sure why or if he even notices he did it.
“So you’re from Chicago?” I ask after a minute of silence.
“Are we doing this?” he asks.
“Doing what?”
“The whole getting-to-know-you thing?”
“What’s wrong with that?” I sit up, careening my body toward him until our gazes lock. “I’m curious about you, that’s all.”
“My past is in the past.” He clears his throat. “I like to leave it there. I live in the present, Delilah. Nowhere else.”
“But the past is what makes us who we are.”
“Bullshit.” His jaw tightens. “The present makes us who we are. The present is all we have. Anyone who believes otherwise is an idiot. No offense.”
“I’ve spent my entire academic career studying what makes people do what they do, and it all boils down to external factors,” I say. “Most of which stem from the environment in which we’re raised.”
His eyes close drowsily and his brows lift. “Good for you.”
“I can quote dozens of scholars and professors who would seriously beg to differ with you. Jung would be rolling in his grave right now if he heard you.”
Zane laughs. “Calm down. Come on. Lay back down. I like you better when you’re breathless and horny.”