I laugh, turning away from her luscious tits, and sink another stripe. “Yes!” I call out and pump my fist.
She curses.
My gaze takes in her erect red nipples. “You cold, babe?” She glares at me as I lean against the table. “What next . . . hmm . . .”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Just say it.”
“Underwear. Off.”
“You’re still dressed!”
“Those are the rules, babe.” I cock an eyebrow.
She grabs her phone and turns on music, “I Knew I Loved You,” by Savage Garden.
“Is that your stripping song?” I ask. “Or are you stalling?”
She flips me off, then sways her hips to the song, humming along as she tucks her thumbs in the sides of her panties and teases them up and down. The lace dances down her hips, past her thighs, to her knees, and then to her ankles. She picks them up and tosses them to me. “Your turn to go again. Or are you stalling?”
My mouth drying, I eat her up with my eyes. My knees feel weak, and with a groan, I turn and make my next shot. My hands are unsteady, but I manage to sink the ball.
I turn around and face her, trying not to gloat.
“Well?” she asks in a low, sultry voice. “What’s it gonna be, darling?”
“Get on the table. Spread your legs.”
Her breath hitches. “You dirty, dirty man. You still have the eight ball.”
“Fuck the eight ball. I want you. Now.”
She walks toward me, and I meet her halfway. I pull her face to me and kiss her. It’s a stormy kiss, explosive, throbbing with need as our tongues fight for dominance.
“I love kissing you. Each time is different,” I murmur as our breaths mingle. “Now get your sweet ass on the edge of the table so I can eat your pussy.”
“You’re so poetic,” she says as I sweep her up in my arms and set her down on the table, shoving the rest of the balls out of the way so she can lie back.
I trace my hand down her throat, letting it rest at the bottom. It’s a possessive “You’re mine” hold.
Her fingertips graze my arm. “If you’re into choking, I need to know.”
“And if I am?”
“Then I only ask that you let me do you first.”
I chuckle as I lean in and take her lips gently, skimming over that lush bottom one, stretching it with my teeth. “I’d never hurt you, but someday . . . maybe . . .”
“Possibilities are endless,” she murmurs. “Now make a meal of me.” Propping her feet up, she leans back on the green table.
I inhale at the image she presents. So willing. So hot.
I swat her ass, and she glares at me.
“Just checking,” I chuckle and lean over and kiss her softly, then trail down her throat, sucking on the skin.
“Ronan . . .” She curls her hands in my hair.
I skim over her succulent nipples with teasing touches, plucking, tweaking. She arches, and my tongue dips down to the valley between her breasts and traces down to her waist. I kiss her hip bones, playing over her belly button. My thumb grazes over her nub as my tongue tastes her. With my other hand, I shove my shorts and underwear down and grasp my cock. Little spasms flutter from her folds as I feast on her skin. Her clit swells as I suck it into my mouth and flick over it, lingering, exploring her secret places. She calls my name, her body quaking and shuddering as she rubs against my face. Her back arches up, and she pulls my hair and comes with a shout, her body quivering.
I stop pumping my length and prowl on top of her. She opens her arms and scoots up to let me get on the table. Fire blazes under my skin as I get on my knees and pick up her hips, her legs falling over my forearms. Her ass rests against my upper thighs. My chest heaves as I slide inside her slickness and groan, need rising higher as her tits bounce with my entry. I swivel my hips to get deeper, yelling out as I hit home.
Her eyes glaze, her pupils blown. Sweat drips down my face, my gaze trained on her, memorizing her features, the way her hair splays out behind her. I play with her nipples, skimming my tongue over the tips, then sucking them into my mouth.
Her hips rise to meet me as I work her, my shoulder muscles flexing as I slide out and thrust back with a need that curls down my spine. She tightens her legs around my hips and gazes up at me, our eyes locked.
We’re in a bubble, the only two people in the world, and all that matters is this second, this feeling. The air crackles as something powerful and beautiful passes between us. A gift. A rare moment. The world tilts as my throat prickles with need for her. My mouth parts to gasp.