Dream Girl Drama (Big Shots #3)

Chapter Seventeen

He’d dreamed of being dirty talked to by Chloe Clifford.

Dreamed it so many times. Hearing her sweet and refined Connecticut voice popping off with something filthy—but goddamn , as many times as he’d imagined Chloe saying the words fuck me , he wasn’t prepared. As in, his body, his psyche, his dick... none of them were ready. Anticipation welled so deeply inside of Sig, he couldn’t even tell where the overflow was happening. Only that it reached his throat, his chest, his fingertips, and he could barely form a cohesive plan to give her an orgasm. Also known as the only thing higher on his list of needs than hearing her talk dirty.

They were frantically making out in the middle of this king-sized bed, her fingers twisting in his clothes and pulling him closer, which was a mind-blowing feeling. One he’d underestimated. Being held tight to this person, his person, as if her world would end, too, if they had to be separated and obviously, he wanted to be buried between her thighs, but he couldn’t stop kissing her. Couldn’t. They hadn’t kissed enough yet. They’d never reach a point where they’d kissed enough. God. God, she didn’t mind being messy and he loved that. She didn’t mind him humping her like he’d just been let out of prison. Didn’t mind him licking her jaw, her neck, burying his tongue so deep in her mouth, he could feel the vibration of her moan in the center of his belly.

Yeah, Sig probably wouldn’t have been able to break the chain of breathless kisses, probably would have been there until the next morning, just feeling her lips get more and more and more swollen between the legs, but she started to tilt her hips up beneath him, rubbing on his fly, her pupils like saucers—and he knew she needed to come. Soon.

“I’ll get you there, Chlo. That’s my fucking job.”

“Do it, then,” she said shakily. “Please. Please.”

A growl broke from his mouth like a thunderclap, and he forced himself to sit up slightly, straddling her body while they worked together to undress her with frenzied hands, panting and tearing at clothes, their gazes colliding and heating. More, more. Chloe drew off her shirt with a characteristic wiggle that made his throat clench even as he flipped up her skirt and yanked a tight little pair of black panties down to her ankles, his cock stiffening that final painful and urgent degree the first time he saw that beautiful blond strip of curls. Saw that place where her thighs creased, bracketing her pussy, so slippery and ready and perfect.

“It doesn’t seem possible that I’ve never seen you like this, you know?” His voice was thicker than mud. “How could I know you like the back of my hand and not know what’s under your clothes—” Sig cut himself off with a gulp as her bra was shed, leaving her naked, save the skirt flipped up at her belly. “Jesus, Chloe. You are... incredible .” His restraint gave out along with his stabilizing arm and he fell forward onto his dream girl who absorbed his weight with a happy gasp, threading her fingertips through his hair while his mouth found her tits, her nipples, the juicy palm-sized glory of her breasts and made out with them.

“Yes, Sig. Yes. Oh my God .”

He couldn’t keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, out of pure bliss. Over the way she yanked on his hair, over the way her nipples started small, but grew big and swollen as he licked them, sucked them gently, the heel of his hand skating down her shuddering belly and kneading that wet flesh rhythmically, playing her body like an instrument he’d never played before, but was born with the expertise to make sing.

Like a prodigy.

I’ll tell her that later. That we’re both prodigies. It’ll make her laugh.

And the fact that he was already dying to talk to her again—when his cock was stiffer than a fucking sledgehammer—spoke volumes. I love this girl. I love her so much. So much that he moved instinctively in the name of her pleasure, his mouth releasing her stiff nipple with a stuttered sound, lips moving down, down, suctioning over the top of her slit, his middle finger teasing open her soaked cunt, gently twisting a knuckle at her entrance, the sound of her whimpers making him feel like an animal.

“Sig. I just want you inside of me. Inside of me. Please. ”

“Patience, dream girl.”

“ No. ”

Sig chuckled, but cut himself off with a hard swallow when the lips of her sex parted that remaining degree, that indecent final opening that allowed him to get his tongue where it needed to go—and he put it there. Groaning brokenly. Stroking that gorgeous bud with the tip of his tongue, tracing the smooth perimeter of it, before gently grinding down from above with the flat center of his tongue, slowly, slowly, all while massaging the undersides of her knees with his thumbs... and fuck, she got wetter. Mewled louder .

He’d never need another trophy as long as he lived.

Feeling Chloe get more and more aroused while he ate her pussy was peak victory.

“Sig. I need you.”

“Not half as much as I need you,” he rasped, the palm of his right hand traveling down the inside of her thigh, his middle and index finger teasing her breach, preparing to tuck inside all that warmth and make sure she was ready, but he wanted to be looking her in the eye the first time he fingered her, so he jiggled his tongue against her clit a few more times, until her thighs started to spasm, then licked up the center of her body, pressing their foreheads together. Looking at her with all the wild and powerful feelings inside his chest.

Then he pushed two fingers into that sweet, tight pussy, moaning the whole way.

Cursing over the way her muscles seized up around his digits, her eyes glazing over.

“Swear to God, I’ve spent my whole life wanting to get inside of you.”

“A-and?”

His fingers retreated and advanced, retreated and advanced, milking her, getting her as ready as possible. “Now I’m going to spend my whole life making sure I get to stay here.”

Christ, she was a masterpiece, all flushed and beginning to shine. Dewy. Covered in suck marks. Swollen. Perfection. “You’re the only one that belongs inside me,” she whispered, unfastening his dress pants and carefully lowering the zipper. Stroking him through the starchy material while he choked a sound into her neck, still eye to eye. Hiding nothing. “You can be rough with it. Rough as you want.”

Motherfuck.

Sig didn’t wait another breath. He couldn’t. Neither of them could.

He reached down into his open fly, past the elastic of his briefs and fisted his cock, bringing it between her thighs and pumping home with a shattered call of her name.

Blind. He was fucking blinded by the sensation of... of suction and compression.

The contraction of her muscles.

“Fuck. You are just...” He ground down, cinched back and fucked forward, groaning over the way she whined and tightened up, knees rising. “Shit, Chloe. Jesus. Christ. ”

“Don’t stop.” She clawed at his hips. “You feel so good.”

“Say I’m the only one, again. Say it filthier.”

She accepted another one of his pumps with a cry. “If I get filthy, will you be filthy?”

“I’m going to be filthy, either way, Chlo.” He worked his lower body in a rough circle, listening to her breath catch. “But if you tell me my cock is your reason for living, I’ll feel more justified working you over. The way I’ve been obsessing over you for six fucking months.”

Chloe visibly let that honesty wash over her, crooking her finger at him a moment later—and he went, closing his eyes as she whispered against his ear. “What if I tell you that your cock is so big and thick, I can feel it rubbing my G-spot?” She sucked his earlobe into her mouth, drawing his balls up so tight, he had to bear down to prevent himself from spilling. “And I know exactly where that spot is because I think of you every time I play with it.”

“Okay,” he panted, beginning to thrust. Hard. Hard hard hard. “Oh fuck.”

“Work me over.” She ripped her nails down his ass. “Work me so good, honey. Please.”

Honey?

The headboard was slamming into the wall at this point, her tightness accepting him with wet sounds he’d never get out of his head. “You can stop now,” he growled.

She arched her back on a moan. “I want you to fuck me like this in your hockey pads.”

His body lit itself on fire. “ Chloe. ” Balls strained with pres sure, he couldn’t help but buck his hips faster. Accept more of the heaven she was offering. “I’m warning you.”

“What are you going to do? Pound me harder?” she asked, her breathing shallow, reedy. “Good.” Slowly, she snuck her middle finger into the split of his ass, pressing the tip inside of him. And then she locked up her pussy muscles while his body, mind, and soul had a full-scale meltdown. Code red. Sig didn’t even have a name for what he was feeling. It was a kind of out-of-control bliss below his waist, and a loss of coherence everywhere else.

The bedsprings were protesting beneath them.

At some point he’d hooked his arms beneath Chloe’s knees and bent her in half so he could plow into her from above and shit, shit, shit, she had her finger in his asshole now, all the way to the knuckle, massaging in places he didn’t know needed massaging, and he was panting like a dog, sweat making the half-buttoned dress shirt cling to his back... and he was losing control of himself. Completely. She was causing him to desert it when he was supposed to be focused on making her come. Toning down his roughness was easier said than done, though, when she was whimpering for it, her eyes searching the ceiling for God.

“How close are you, baby?” Whose voice was that? He sounded like the big, bad wolf. “We keep this pace... and you keep that up... I’m going to come soon.”

“I’m close.”

“How close. How close.”

“I don’t know.” That finger sunk deeper. “I just know I love your cock and I want it inside me forever. I love it, I love it, I love it—”

“Chloe. Please. ”

“I love that you treat me like a princess everywhere but in bed.” She licked at his jawline, her blond hair in a tangled cloud around her head. “Here, you treat me like a—”

“Don’t say it,” he warned raggedly, his dick throbbing with a final warning shot.

“Say what?” she purred, her hips working up, up, up to meet his downward drives.

“Anything. Whatever you’re going to say. I’m begging you.”

She didn’t have to say it. Something about the mischievous curl of her upper lip completed the sentence and Sig shouted a vile curse at the slapping headboard, forced to pull out or he was going to finish before her.

“No!” she screamed, as if this wasn’t her fault.

“I’ve got you,” he growled, levering up long enough to tear off his shirt, buttons flying every which way, then dropping down on his bare torso, tongue skating up her inner left thigh. “Keep your fucking legs spread.”

She sucked in an eager breath at his first lap of her pussy, her belly hollowing, shuddering, fingers clutching the sheets. “Sig.”

“Don’t worry, you’re close, beautiful,” he praised, rubbing his mouth in her flesh. “It’s dripping down your ass cheeks.”

“Please.”

“I wanted to be in extra deep when you came, but you had to be a bad girl, didn’t you?” He pressed two fingers inside of her, rotating until he found that rough spot and rubbed, fast and firm. “You won’t catch me complaining about getting to lick this pussy twice.” He waited until she was squirming and crying out his name before he fastened his mouth gently over her clit and dragging loose lips side to side over the swollen pearl, then sucked with increasing pressure, pride blooming in his chest as her thighs started to shake uncontrollably, her screams of release bouncing off the walls, the insides of his skull, the chambers of his booming heart.

As soon as she was through the height of the orgasm, Sig was pinning down her heaving body and slamming his cock back inside of her to the hilt, driving into her like there was no tomorrow, no sun coming up, no reason to live but the woman beneath him—and at least one of those things were true. In that moment, there was nothing but Chloe and the beating boulder inside of his chest that existed only for her. And his body lost control in the same way he’d lost control over how much he loved her long ago.

He choked out her name and succumbed to the lust, feeding it into her with disorderly punches of his hips, the only one who could ever inspire it to the point of pain. The love of his life. His Chloe.

“My Chloe. You’ll always be mine. Always. ”

“Yes. I know. I know.”

“We’ll get through this,” he said, mouth open and panting against the side of her neck, body still thrusting inside of her, their bodies sealed together by sweat, her thighs boneless and dropped open on the bed, but her arms wrapped around him like he was a port in a storm.

And in a sense, he was.

He just didn’t know which direction the strongest gale winds were coming from.

Not yet.