Linebacker’s Second Chance(46)

Since Kinley’s already been with at least two other men on the team, I’m not at all concerned about her caring.

“Don’t look up there, sweet pea. I’ll give you something else to look at,” I whisper, voice hoarse and needy. Her eyes meet mine as I stroke myself through my jeans. “I’ve only come inside you once, and that’s not nearly enough. I want it again. I want you to wake up in my bed so I can have you when I want you, so I can make you come for me every morning and again every night.”

With one hand, I unbuckle myself, sighing with relief as I free my cock from my jeans. There’s already a pearly bead of precum forming at its tip. Lowering my hand to the base, I grasp my thickness and stroke myself, somehow becoming harder with each movement.

Renata remains silent, but I can read her face, and there’s more pleasure in her body, just waiting for release.

I stand and pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist so that my cock touches the burning heat of her sweet, delicate folds. I take her over to the teak lounge chair, sitting and keeping her dark wetness pressed against me. Deftly, my fingers move over the buttons of her blouse, exposing the sheer white lace of her bra, her deep brown nipples already stiff, pressing against the fabric. She whimpers softly, throwing her arms around my neck, letting go of the inhibitions that have been binding her. I take one breast in my hand, rolling then nipple between my thumb and forefinger. My mouth finds the other, sucking its stiffness through the sheer fabric.

Moaning, desperate, she lifts herself and finds the head of my cock.

Like I taught her last time, she lets just the head slide into her entrance, fingers flicking over her clit as she holds herself there, preparing to take my full thickness and length.

“God,” she sighs. “God, it’s so big.”

“You’re in control this time, baby. Take it all the way, as slow as you want it.” I shift on the chair so she’s right over me, lowering herself an inch at a time, gasping as she reaches the base of my shaft. Renata shudders as she takes me in fully, completely filling herself, encasing me, gripping me with her impossible tightness. In all the times I’d imagined her, all the many nights I stroked myself thinking about fucking her, this is far and away better than anything I could have imagined. The walls of her pussy clench against me as she begins to ride my cock, impaling herself each time she raises and lowers her hips again.

She’d told me I was far too big the first time. And now my girl is riding me like she was made for it.

Instinctively, my hands go to her hips, but she guides herself, bouncing, making me feel like I’m going to come all at once. I thank the universe for my experience holding myself back for other women because Renata makes me feel like I might come all at once. I don’t want to do that, not before I’ve seen her face again as she comes, not before I feel her shake and shudder against me again, her body and mine melding into one. She falls into a rhythm, hitting her clit against me with each motion. The coil inside of me tightens until I want to explode.

Still, I hold back, until she’s riding me with wild abandon, her conservative white shirt fluttering in the night breeze. She slows, her muscles beginning to tighten and tense. And then I feel her, bearing down against me, and I know she’s letting go again.

“I’m coming,” she cries out, voice raspy with desire. I urge her on now, thrusting hard and riding her through her orgasm from beneath. She clenches tight around me, heat rising through her body. She comes hard, moaning long and loud, her skin glowing with the release, with fulfilled need.

I groan, thrusting hard as I release inside of her, shivers running up and down my spine as I meet my climax. “So good,” I sigh. “My love.”

Looking into her eyes, I brush a stray lock of hair back over her ear. She sighs and leans her cheek against my hand. We’re still locked together, in the dance of love I dreamed about for all the years I wasn’t with her.

“Mack,” she whispers, bringing her hands to my hair and running her fingers through it. The feeling of her nails against my scalp as I’m still inside of her is almost transcendental, like I might melt right here, right now.

Macklin Pride doesn’t usually feel this way, not about a woman. About football, maybe. But I remind myself that this here is Renata, and she’s not just any woman. She’s the woman, and she has been since the very first moment I laid eyes on her so many years ago.

“Hm?” I respond after some time has gone by.

“I...” Her voice trails off, and I pull her in tight. She can take her time saying what she needs to say, but after a spell, she opens her mouth again. “I love you too.”