Chapter 41
Preston
I could barely breathe. Trinity Maxwell stood nervously in my hallway, cloaked in my jersey, looking like a fucking dream.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips glossy from the little swipe of her tongue that trailed over them.
Her hair was mused, the perfect length to wrap around my fist. She was drop dead gorgeous.
“I’m so…sorry.” She grabbed at the collar of the shirt. “I didn’t realize I grabbed this. I can take it off,” she rambled.
Take it off? Hell no.
I held up my palm to stop her rambling. I was trying to find the strength to speak. I was tongue-tied like some sixteen-year-old kid asking a girl to prom. Only I was a grown man, and this was the woman I was falling for. Hard.
“Don’t,” I rasped. My feet moved, closing the distance between us. She watched me closely, her chest rising with each short breath. “Don’t even think about taking it off.”
No woman had ever worn my jersey. Just like no woman had ever been in this house. Just her. Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip, and that was it. My control was disassembled with one simple move, and I scooped her up in my arms.
She let out a surprised squeal at my sudden move, but she wrapped her legs around me, her arms winding around my neck. My lips crashed against hers, tasting her sweet moans as I stalked into my room, then deposited her on my bed.
Her auburn hair fanned out against my comforter, my jersey bunched at her waist, showing off a delicate cream thong.
“You’re perfect.” I ran my hand up her bare skin in awe.
She squirmed, her eyes watching the path of my hand. I trailed my palm up her thigh, across her toned stomach, and up between her breasts. The pads of my fingertips brushed across the lace of her bra and my cock twitched.
“Need to see these,” I said, lifting the jersey with my free hand.
Her own hands reached back and unclasped her bra before she tugged it down, revealing the most beautiful pair of rosy nipples I’d ever seen. Dipping down, I clasped my lips around the bud, running my tongue over the peak as she moaned, sliding her fingers through my hair with a tender tug.
Her skin tasted sweet, the touch hot and soft beneath my tongue. I shifted, devouring the other in the same manner.
Sliding down her body, I locked my eyes on her center, ready to taste her again, when her palm pressed against my shoulder. My feet stuttered back as she rose to her knees, then crawled toward me.
Holy shit.
“It’s my turn,” she said.
I pushed up to stand as she climbed off the bed.
“Trini—” My breath lodged in my throat when she dropped to her knees, her eyes shining with desire. “Baby, you don’t have—”
“I want to,” she interrupted, her hands finding the button on my jeans. “Don’t distract me.”
My lips curled, amusement on my face as she worked my button loose, then unzipped my pants with determination.
Just like she did everything else.
In a matter of seconds, she had my pants and boxers bunched at my thighs and her hand wrapped around my shaft.
The warmth of her touch had a hiss escaping my lips as she stroked me.
Then my eyes rolled back when she darted her tongue out, lapping up the moisture that already leaked from my tip.
Instinctively, my hand flew to her hair, threading my fingers through her silky strands.
Her mossy green eyes flashed my way before she took me into her mouth, her eyes fluttering as the head of my cock hit the back of her throat.
I groaned, my hips jerking as she hollowed her cheeks.
“Fuck…” I ground out.
She repeated the motion, her lips and hand working in tandem to suck the life out of me.
Seeing her on her knees, in my jersey, her lips swollen, did something to me.
It had me on the brink of exploding, and like hell was I about to spill out into her mouth.
No. I wanted to fill her up while I stared at my name printed on the back of that jersey.
Like she was mine. Like she belonged to me.
And she did. Wrong or not. Trinity Maxwell was mine.
Her tongue swirled, and my thighs flexed as I tugged her off. Her cheeks flushed as she peered up at me from beneath her lashes.
“On the bed,” I instructed before lifting her from the floor. “On your knees.”
She scrambled to the bed, getting in position as I shrugged off my pants and my T-shirt.
She peeked over her shoulder, her ass perched in the air for me like a prize. I dipped down, pressing a kiss right at the arch of her back as I climbed up behind her. She shivered at the touch, her ass pressing right into my erection.
“You ready, Angel?” I asked, running my tip along her seam. “You knew I wanted to fuck you in this jersey, didn’t you?” I hummed when she gasped. “My name on your back like you’re mine.”
My eyes closed as I slowly pressed my tip into her heat. “Are you mine?” I asked on a heavy breath.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I’m yours.”
Then I slid home.