“Think you can kiss me the whole way upstairs?” she asked, pressing my cock between us as it rose against my belly.
“You are fucking amazing,” I whispered, then kissed the shit out of her. There weren’t any photographers in the hotel—they weren’t allowed, so I didn’t worry as I locked my forearm under her ass and lifted her off those sexy little heels she’d chosen for tonight.
Not only had she successfully hidden my erection with her body, but I was throbbing by the time we reached our hotel room. Thank God I was a senior guy on the team and got my own room. The rookies had to share.
I managed to unlock the door and get it open with Liberty in my arms, and then I carried her into the room and slammed the thing shut behind us.
“I’m going to devour every inch of you,” I growled into her neck.
We undressed in a hurry between kisses so hot I debated not taking clothes off at all. I wanted inside her. Now. But more than that, I wanted her crying out my name, wanted her so desperate for me that she might have a taste of how badly I always wanted her. She was always the one with the high ground in our relationship, but here in bed, I managed to level the playing field.
Our tongues twined and twirled as we groped and stroked, falling to the bed in a naked tangle of limbs. When she sprawled beneath me, I locked both her thighs over my shoulders and had my dessert.
“Holy. Shit.” She moaned long and loud as I latched onto her core with my mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about the way you taste all night,” I said it against her clit, letting the words cause little vibrations in my lips.
“Nixon!” Her fingers tangled in my hair.
Fuck, I loved the sound of my name on her lips, especially when I had her spiraling toward the edge. I licked her from pussy to clit, then tongue-fucked her with long, hard thrusts.
Her hips rolled as she keened in time with my tongue’s movements, riding my tongue toward her orgasm. When she got close, I pulled away, turning my attention to her clit.
“Nixon, please,” she cried, her grip tugging me against her.
“Please, what?” I asked, swirling my tongue over the swollen bud.
“Let me come!” she demanded.
I lashed at her clit with deft strokes of my tongue, then slid my hands from her hips to her breasts, lightly tweaking her sensitive nipples. Her breaths came in stuttered gasps, her thighs locked around my head, and she came with my name on her lips.
Still hungry for her, I sucked her clit back into my mouth and brought her to climax again, this time stroking her pussy with my fingers. She was so wet that I nearly came at the delicious, sucking sound my fingers made with every thrust, knowing my cock would be there soon. When she came down from that orgasm, I slipped her thighs from my shoulders.
“Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?” I ran my hand from her neck, to the dip between her breasts, and over the swell of her belly. Was she carrying my child? Yes. But her body was a purely sexual feast in these moments.
“You—” she started.
“Not me,” I countered. “You.” She always did that—made some comment about me being hot, or how she wasn’t a model or some other shit. I needed her to understand just how spectacular she was to me.
“Come here,” she said instead, reaching for me.
I noted the full-length mirror on the wall and grinned. “No. You come here. Hands and knees.” I flipped her gently to her belly as she did as I requested.
Then I turned us so we faced that mirror. My cock throbbed in time with my heartbeat as I looked at her there, flushed with orgasms, and dripping wet. I positioned myself behind her, then sat back on my knees.
She whimpered as I drew her back into my lap, bringing her back against my chest.
“Look at you,” I ordered, looking over her shoulder and gently kissing the fevered skin.
“Nixon,” she begged, swirling her hips over me.
I brought the head of my dick to her entrance and then slid my hand between her breasts. “These are magnificent. You fit my hands perfectly, and you’re so sensitive.” I skimmed her nipple while keeping my other hand locked on her hip. “Your skin is flawless. So soft that I get distracted just thinking about touching you.” I trailed those fingers down her belly and took her other hip in my hand as I leaned back slightly. “You are so fucking beautiful that I dream about you, even in those months we were apart, you haunted my dreams. Say it. Tell me you’re beautiful.”
She sucked in a long breath, then met my eyes in the mirror. “I’m beautiful.”
Fuck, I was going to come in the first thirty seconds, that’s how badly I needed her. “Now watch yourself fuck me, Liberty.” I lifted my hips slightly, pushing inside her that first inch. My eyes slid shut as unimaginable pleasure filled every part of my body. “Take what you want.” I said against her neck, then sucked where neck met shoulder.
She moaned, then sank down on me, her knees on either side of mine. I leaned back slightly, taking her deeper, but letting her control just how much she wanted.
Her ass rubbed against my lower belly as she started to ride me, rising and falling with subtle rocks of her hips. I held her to keep us steady, then lifted my hands to her breasts, working them as she brought us both to the edge. Each thrust felt better than the last, just like every time I took her was better than the previous time. We just got better and better in every way possible.
Our bodies were slick with sweat, our eyes locked in that mirror as she started to tense above me, her movements slowing. “Oh, God. Nixon, I…It’s so good...can’t move…please, baby, please.” She was just about there.
I switched my grip to her hips and swung mine, taking her deep. “Too hard?” I asked between gritted teeth, trying like hell to hold myself back.
“More!” she demanded as her thighs locked, and her body went rigid.
I thrust again and again, losing myself in the heat and perfection of her body, as her lips parted in one long, soundless cry. Pleasure shot down my spine, and that tension snapped free. I reached between her thighs and rubbed her clit gently, sending her straight over the edge with me as I came inside her so hard that I gripped her thighs for balance.
When our breathing calmed, and we were both cleaned up, I started over again, making love to her slowly this time, not only for the pleasure but the distraction.
There had been one good point raised at dinner.
If I got traded…would she follow?
And if she didn’t, what the fuck was I going to do?
14
Liberty
“Good,” I said, my tone soothing, calm. “And now transition into Warrior II pose.” I shifted into the pose on my own mat at the head of the studio, my muscles tight, and my skin drenched. “Beautiful.” I scanned the room and tried like hell not to look at the person on the mat in the far back corner of the studio—and failed.
Nixon Noble doing Warrior II pose in nothing but a pair of athletic shorts and a white tank top? God help me now was he delicious. His biceps rippled as he transitioned into the pose, his arms outstretched on either side as he pointed his right thigh toward the front of the room. Toward me. His other leg extended backward, and I had to admit I was surprised at his range of motion. Sure, the man exercised every single day, but yoga was new to him. Hot yoga even more so, and yet, here he was.