Hold (Gentry Boys, #5)(3)
Grabbing Saylor around the waist while a surprised gasp of laughter escaped her lips, I dragged her into the narrow laundry room, hauled her atop the washer and got her legs around my waist.
“No foreplay tonight?” she panted as she helped yank my shirt over my head. I felt a seam rip but that hardly mattered.
“No foreplay,” I growled. “Just post play.” I roughly pulled the straps of her nightie down and got my mouth around the left tit that was taunting me a minute ago.
Say angled her body toward me and the tender nipple hardened in my mouth. Her hands roamed all over my back and shoulders while my dick just about howled for his turn at some attention. I grinded against her in a fever, ready to bite, tear or shred my way right through the flimsy fabric of her gown so that I could get to where I needed to be. She got the message and I felt her fingers working at the zipper of my jeans. I helped her along by ripping that shit open, getting boxers and all dropped to my knees. My hands got between the soft flesh of her ass and the hard surface of the washer, groping, kneading and getting her as wide open as possible. The gown was in a defeated puddle around her waist and every inch of bare skin, from her soft thighs to her sweet breasts, was begging to be taken advantage of.
“Fuck,” I groaned as she wrapped her warm hand around my dick and started stroking the length, pausing to run her thumb over the swollen head and grazing against the sweet spot in the way she knew damn well would drive me to the brink.
“Is that a promise?” she asked, sucking lightly on my neck and then leaning back so she could stroke me harder. She was the picture of filthy sex with her hand on my cock, her bare tits bouncing and her knees spread wide.
“More like a threat, baby.” I reached around and deliberately turned the washing machine dial to the spin cycle before flicking the switch on, both to drown out our noise and to make the ride even wilder. I would worship her later, slow and reverent like she deserved. But right now there was something more urgent in the way. I needed her bad and if that meant it was quick and dirty, then that’s what it meant.
The second I plunged into her she went rigid and let out a sighing groan. “Cord.”
There were no adequate words for how much I loved her. I’d never believed in anything remotely holy until I fell for Saylor McCann. I put a ring on her finger and my babies in her belly because she was more than sex, more than heart; she was everything I’d ever heard rumors of and didn’t believe existed until she was mine.
“Tell me, honey,” I demanded as I got her hair all wound into one fist. “Tell me about it.”
She was already deep into her own pleasure and it was so hot I almost lost it. She clutched me like I was the last life belt on the sinking Titanic as the orgasm bore down.
“You’re so good,” she moaned. “And I love you so much.”
I paused and waited until she opened her eyes.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
I played with her, my fist still controlling her hair, my cock pulling out enough to just graze the slick surface in a deliberate tease. “You love who?”
“I love you, Cordero Gentry.”
“I love you too, Saylor Gentry.”
She moaned and tried to pull me back in. “Then keep f*cking me!”
What kind of man would ignore a plea like that? I went at her rough because I knew in certain moods she liked it that way. This was one of those moods. Her nails dug into my back and she was shaking, her muscles clenching around me in a rhythm that added to my triumph. The machine vibrated underneath us.
And when I came it was even more powerfully intense than usual because I knew what was at stake. We’d been tossing the idea around for months. Damn, but there was nothing sexier than letting go inside of her and hoping part of me would get to stay there.
Once we caught our breath I grinned and kissed her. “I hope I knocked you the hell up.”
She was still a little shaky, holding onto my arms so she wouldn’t topple right off the washing machine. She smiled back. “I hope you did too.”
I stroked her thighs. “Can’t believe I agreed to get this hot body pregnant again.”
Saylor tilted her head and licked her lips. “You should be excited about it. Remember those lusty reproductive hormones.”
“Does this mean I can again look forward to waking up in the middle of the night with your tongue on my dick?”
She tapped her fingers on the washer and pretended to consider the question. “It might.”
I got my pants pulled up enough to be decent and took a peek into the hallway. When I was sure that the kids’ door was still closed the same way I’d left it, I picked Saylor up and carried her in bodice-ripping romance style to the bedroom.
“I’m pretty much naked,” she whispered, trying to pull her gown over her skin.
“You’re completely gorgeous,” I confirmed as I crossed the bedroom threshold and laid her out on the bed.
I pushed her protesting hands away and got the remains of the silk nightie out of the way. I guess most men believed their wives were insanely beautiful creatures created just for them. But mine really was.
“Let me see,” I insisted, getting my hands all over her until she stopped trying to keep any part of herself from me. Her hips had widened slightly after her pregnancy with the twins and her breasts were fuller. She was soft curves and softer skin, so superbly feminine that it was only natural to rest my head on her belly and pray that I’d get to stay there forever. I’d already vowed a long time ago to spend the rest of my life trying to deserve this. Saylor ran her fingers through my sweaty hair and let out a happy sigh.