Sinful Desire (Sinful Nights, #2)(88)
“I’d play you there so good,” he said, his eyes shining with desire. He followed her with the pool cue, lightly touching her heat, her swollen clit. She arched up, angling for more contact, and he began stroking her with the pool cue. “You like that, beautiful?” he asked, his eyes blazing at her as she rocked into him.
“I’ve told you, Ryan. I love everything you do to me.”
“I’m not even the one doing it.”
“You are,” she said as she unclipped her hair. “You are doing it to me. Only you can touch me like this. Only you can do this to me.”
He stroked faster, rubbing her expertly through her purple panties with the pool cue. Her blond curls spilled behind her on the table, and she let her head fall back as he masturbated her with a pool stick. Like a wooden sex toy that he controlled, it set her on fire. Closing her eyes, she caught a perfect rhythm, like a surfer does a wave, and she rode it, rocking her hot center into the wide end of the pool cue, seeking friction with the wood, until her vision turned black and hazy, and she dug her nails into the green felt, coming in her lingerie on his pool table.
She moaned happily, and opened her eyes to find him stripping. He’d set the pool cue down on the table.
“I think I’m in love with the game of pool now,” she said softly, running a hand along the wood he’d used to get her off.
His eyes blazed darkly. “I’m not done with that,” he said, and her gaze followed him, as he grabbed her hands, lifted them over her head, then pressed the cue into her palms. “Hold it in place. Restrain yourself.”
Sparks sizzled across her skin at his command. She gripped the cue hard over her head, as he tugged off her panties in seconds, leaving her stockings, shoes and bra untouched. Pulling her hips to the edge of the table, he lined her up with his hard cock.
“I have never wanted to f*ck you so much,” he said in a growl.
“Take me, wreck me. You can’t ruin me. You can control me all you want. You won’t break me. I’ll still be here,” she said, knowing it was what he needed, and what she wanted, too.
*
He slid into her without mercy.
She moaned the second his cock made contact with her heat.
Then he took over for her hands. He gripped the pool cue and clasped his fingers through hers, pinning her with the wood and his weight.
With her restrained like that, flat on her back on his pool table, he f*cked her harder and rougher than he ever had before. He didn’t hold back as he held her captive. He slammed into her hot * over and over, his beautiful woman writhing and moaning, panting and screaming, and completely and utterly giving herself to him.
Arching up. Meeting him. Inviting him deeper.
His body jolted with each thrust, his heart pumping hard and wild, and this—this pleasure, this harsh f*cking wasn’t just control for him. It was a relinquishment, too. He might be restraining her, but in doing so he’d revealed his hand. He’d shown her his cards. They were all for her, every single one turned up Sophie.
“It’s you,” he groaned, and she locked eyes with him, her gaze holding him tight, sending him to another plane of pleasure—one ruled by more than the physical. By the intensity of how he felt for her. By all the love that he saw in her eyes. “It’s all you. I f*cking love you so much,” he said as he took her.
“It’s the same for me, Ryan.” Her breathing turned ragged, and her words drove him on. The tension in him rose higher in a fury of passion and love, in a storm of mind-blowing pleasure that spiked in him. Because of how he felt for her, heart, soul, mind and body. He didn’t look away. He simply couldn’t. His eyes were fixed on her the whole time as he took her deeper. Her moans and groans and cries were the sexiest song he’d ever heard, the scent of her skin and the smell of her lust were intoxicating, and the hot, tight grip of her body sent him into a red-hot, fevered frenzy.
He’d never been more turned on, he’d never been harder, and he’d never wanted to come so intensely.
But there was so much more at play than pure desire.
He’d never loved someone like this. He needed more closeness. More connection. No barriers. Nothing but skin and hands and limbs tangled together.
He let go of the stick, then uncurled her fingers from the cue and yanked it away, letting the wood clatter loudly to the floor. “Just you and me,” he said. “Just you and me.”
Instantly, she raised up and flung her arms around him, clutching his back, digging her nails in, and God, f*ck, hell, it was unearthly; it was heaven on earth. His arms snaked around her, and he gripped her, pulling her, yanking her, bringing her as close as she could be. On the edge of the pool table their bodies coiled together like flames, consuming each other with wildfire.
He breathed her name, over and over, like a f*cking mantra—the woman he adored.
She cried out, shuddering beneath him as she hit the edge, her glorious sounds the key in the ignition that set him off.
The tension inside of him snapped, and he came hard.
They collapsed in a landslide of pants and moans, of groans and grunts.
And also, something else.
Something that felt like peace in her arms, as he gave himself up to whatever this was with Sophie, because it felt as if it had the potential to be the rest of his life.
“Sophie,” he murmured in her ear, as she sighed happily and ran her fingers down his sweat-streaked back. “The way I feel for you is beyond control. And I don’t want that to change.”