Page 65 of I Promise You

“Don’t boss me around.”

I growl and pull her down for a hard kiss. Her forehead presses to mine as I test her slick entrance, rubbing through her sex. She leans back and sets me inside her, inch by inch, until I’m gasping. Her heat wraps around me, her sheath tight and hot.

“Dandelion,” I rasp. “Take all of me.”

She starts for a moment at the nickname, then moves her hips and I sink home, shuddering.

“Faster, harder,” I plead as she moves, rising up and down, her hips rolling like a dancer’s.

Serena…

I need control. I flip her under me, and my first thrust is hard, my second harder. She gives it back just as wild, hands in my hair, her pelvis rising to meet mine. I kiss her as I fuck her, and she calls my name, feeding off my frenzy. I bite her shoulder and she bites me back, sharp and stinging, the sensation going straight to my cock.

“On your stomach,” I gasp.

Without waiting for her, I turn her over and she gets on her knees. Gripping her ass, I groan as I pump inside her heat once again. I hover over her back, my lips latching onto hers as she cranes her neck to find me. Our tongues tangle in an erotic dance as I twist my hips and stroke into her.

She cries into my mouth, her hands fisting the covers.

“Roar when you come,” I whisper as I reposition her ass, angling my body to hit the top of her, my pelvis slapping against her. My thumb rotates against her nub in sync with my thrusts. “Serena, Serena, Serena…”

Grunts reverberate around the room, the sounds of our sex filling my ears as sweat drips down my face.

She moans, the sounds indecipherable, and I groan with her, clutching her tighter.

“Dillon!” she yells as she shatters, clenching around me.

“So fucking good…” I shout as I join her, her name on my lips as I break apart, still thrusting as my arms wrap around her waist and hold her against me.

We pant for several moments, our bodies slick with sweat. I slide out, dispose of the condom, and plop back down on the bed next to her. She’s still face down taking deep breaths. I trail my fingers over her shoulder and kiss the dimple at the base of her spine—the one I always knew was there. “That was amazing. Round two in ten minutes?”

She says something, the sound muffled by the bed. She turns over, a smile on her face. Her hair sticks out at the top and my lips twitch. “Again?” she asks.

My heart skips a beat when our eyes cling. My words are soft. “Pour toujours.”

“What does that mean?”

Forever.

“It means that we’re gonna use the chair next time. You on top.”

She laughs, the sound soft and husky, taking me right back to a starry night.

Finally, finally, Dandelion. Mine.18I’m late. Ugh. The bus left an hour ago, so I’ll need to get an Uber to the stadium. Thankfully, Neil is still around when I arrive in the lobby. He’s wearing a blue dress shirt and tailored gray slacks, his hair swept back, glasses on. A broad smile crosses his face as he takes in my navy skirt and white shell blouse.

“We missed you last night. Got to meet some of the ESPN guys,” he says. “Your headache better?”

A blush steals up my cheeks. Headache. Right.

I banged Dillon McQueen.

A shiver races over me at the memory, his demands, that insatiable side of him. After the mattress acrobatics, round two was on the chair, my legs straddling his, his mouth sucking my neck as I rode him. Round three was in the shower, my back against the tile as water poured over us. His mouth clung to mine with every thrust of his hips.

The sex god left for his room at midnight, late for his curfew. Two hours with him…was it enough? No. He’s sneaking inside me, making me crave dangerous things.

My hand touches the charm around my neck, tied with a ribbon and hidden by my shirt. Good luck for the team, I told myself when I put it on yesterday. It’s not like I’m in love with him. That’s crazy.

“Just tired from the flight.”

Something he sees on my face makes him pause. “Are you involved with McQueen?”

I compose my features, but uneasiness makes me stiffen. There’s no rule that says I can’t. Yes, I’m interning for the Gazette, and that does put me in an odd position… Pushing my thoughts aside, I settle for the best answer. “No.”

He exhales, searching my face. “Ah, good.”

“Why would you ask?” Does my gaze linger too long on him in the stands? It can’t be the articles. I’m simply reporting the game particulars, the touchdowns, the passes, the score, etc. It’s the most boring writing I’ve done, but at least I’m learning the game.


Tags: Ilsa Madden-Mills Romance
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