The Goal (Off-Campus #4)(78)

“Holy fuck.” There’s a note of awe in his voice as he stalks forward to join me on the couch. His hard cock bobs with each step he takes.

“I know. They’ve grown.”

He kneels between my legs, reaching up to cup my heavy boobs. “They’re fucking amazing.”

I shiver when his thumbs rub across my erect nipples. “And very sensitive,” I pant out.

An evil glint lights his eyes. “Think you can come if I suck on them?”

“Don’t know.” I drag a hand through his hair. “Let’s find out.”

Without delay, his mouth latches on to one breast while his hand squeezes the other. The hard pull of his mouth makes me arch off the cushions. Oh God. It’s like there’s a direct line between his tongue and my pussy. When he groans, I feel it everywhere. My hips come off the couch, seeking pressure to alleviate the ache but finding nothing.

“Fuck me,” I plead.

He falls backward on his ass and pulls me down on top of him, somehow never once losing contact with my breasts. I straddle him and try to rub my wet core against his cock, but my stupid belly gets in the way and a moan of frustration escapes.

His response is to slip a hand between us. Shoving my panties aside, his fingers find my slick skin and begin to rub. Two fingers glide along my pussy while his thumb strums my clit like a guitar string. And suddenly it’s almost too much. I come in a mindless rush of pleasure, moaning his name, and even when I float down from the blissful high, it’s still not enough. I reach down and give his cock a desperate stroke.

“This,” I gasp. “I want this.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a glittery, hungry gaze, he tears my panties off and nudges me onto my back. Then he grips his shaft and guides it to my entrance. I suck in a breath at the first push of his broad head spreading me.

He stops abruptly in mid-glide. “You okay?”

I can see his arms straining as his lust pushes hard against his self-control. I want to be taken hard, though. I want him to remind me that I’m beautiful, that I’m lust-worthy, that I’m still rocking his world.

I curve my legs around his hips and try to pull him in deeper. “I’m more than okay. I need you to fuck me. Please.”

The fierce look that passes over his face is breathtaking. He jacks in deep, hard and hot, filling me up with his cock until that’s all I know. I haven’t felt him close to me like this in so long. It feels like…a homecoming.

His mouth finds my neck, the tender skin behind my ear. He trails wet kisses along my shoulder and collarbone. He sucks on my nipple again, and stars flash in front of my closed eyelids. One hand slips beneath my ass, holding me slightly off the couch, and his hips move, stroking, stroking, stroking until he hits that one spot that has me crying out again.

He’s relentless, plunging inside me again and again. The head of his shaft rubs against that soft bundle of nerves inside me until I’m a gasping, writhing mess.

“I missed you,” he chokes out. “So fucking much.”

I don’t say it back because I’ve forgotten how to talk. The pleasure is too intense, fogging up my brain. He continues to ravage my breasts, one and then the other. And then he sits up, takes hold of my hips, and thrusts into me harder and faster than before.

The leather beneath my shoulders chafes my skin. My hair is plastered across my face and I’m having a hard time drawing each breath, but none of that matters as I’m lost in the maelstrom of sensation. All I register, all I know, is him. How good he feels, how much my body craves him, how hard my heart beats for him.

How I’m deeply in love with him.

“Come for me,” he rasps. “Come all over my dick, Sabrina.”

The pleasure builds inside of me until finally it detonates, shattering my composure, melting my body. Tucker whips his head back and groans out his own release, while I lay a wrecked mess beneath him.

How he finds the strength to get up and walk to the kitchen, I don’t know. I’m too out of it to do anything but murmur a thank you when he comes back with some wet paper towels and gently cleans up the moisture trickling down my thigh.

Before I can protest, he rejoins me on the couch and throws a blanket over our naked bodies. He pushes an arm under my head and cocoons me in his heat, while I pray that this isn’t the day Brody Hollis decides to come home early from work.

As Tucker strokes my hair, the words of love that sit like lead in my throat fight to get out, but I swallow them back. It was just sex. We both needed the release, that’s all. I can’t read anything more into it, and I can’t even trust my own feelings these days, not with all the pregnancy hormones running rampant in my blood.

I snuggle into his sweat-dampened body. This is enough for me. Whatever he can give me is enough. I won’t ask for more.

“What were you and the doctor whispering about before?” I ask eventually.

He chuckles. “This.”

“This?”

“Yeah, this.” He reaches under the blanket and tweaks one of my nipples. “I asked her if we were allowed to have sex.”

My jaw drops. “You asked our OB for permission to fuck me?”

“I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t hurt the baby,” he protests. “Jeez. Sorry for being a concerned dad.”

I can’t help but smile.