Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
SOPHIE
Tyler’s words swirl around my head and burrow deep into my heart where I know they will live for the rest of my days.
Setting the picture frame aside, I sit up on my knees, scooting forward to straddle him, taking his face in my hands.
“I love you,” I say quietly. When I lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead, his breath hitches, his arms coming up to wrap around my waist, holding tight.
“I love you so much. Thank you for coming, for giving this to me. For bringing birthday night here and for being willing to give up your entire life for me.”
“Soph,” he murmurs, taking my lips in a kiss that is full of passion and intensity and a promise so deep it makes my eyes burn.
“The way I love you.” He pauses, shaking his head like he’s trying to come up with the words.
“It’s enormous and wild and it fills up every single part of me.
There is none of me that isn’t yours, and there isn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t do for you.
My girl,” he says, one hand coming up to push my curls behind my ear, trailing his fingers down my jaw.
“My love.” He kisses one corner of my lips, then the other. “Mine.”
His lips brush over mine once, twice, three times, before he tilts his head, slanting our mouths together.
I grip his shoulders, melting into him when his tongue slides into my mouth, brushing and tangling with mine as he cups my face in his palm.
His free arm wraps around my back, securing my body to his, and when my hips rock over him, he groans, deepening the kiss.
The way he takes my mouth is confident and possessive.
A kind of claiming. And I am eager to be claimed by him.
Mouths fused together, in a fuck-hot feat of athletic strength I’ll never, ever get enough of, Tyler stands with me in his arms. My legs around his waist and his hands gripping my ass, stroking, kneading, as his tongue slides against mine in the most erotic caress, he walks me into the bedroom, laying me on the mattress and climbing over me, his mouth never leaving mine.
We move together, our bodies rocking, searching, seeking, as his hand slides under my T-shirt, skating up my ribs.
“God, Sophie,” Tyler murmurs against my lips as his fingers tease my nipple, plucking and rolling it until I’m writhing under him, my hips rocking up into his. “I want you. I need you. I just…please,” he practically moans, his lips skating over my jaw. “Fucking please.”
“Have me,” I say, bringing his mouth back to mine, rolling my hips up to meet him when he grinds down over me, his hand sliding back down to grip my hip, his fingertips fire branding my skin. “Tonight, tomorrow, and every single day after. Have me, Tyler, because I’m yours.”
“Say it again,” he murmurs, sliding my shirt up, urging me to lift my arms above my head until he can pull it all the way off and toss it away.
“Tell me you’re mine.” Sitting back on his heels, his eyes rake over my naked body, and I feel his hungry gaze like a caress.
“You have to be mine because fuck, Sophie, look at you.” Tyler nudges my legs apart, his eyes moving straight to where I’m sure my underwear is soaked through, and I have never been more exposed or felt more powerful in my life.
“I’m yours,” I say, skating my hands up my torso and watching as his eyes flash and darken as he follows the movement. “I’ll always be yours.”
“Damn right, you will be.” Dropping a hand down, he runs a finger over my soaked underwear, pressing gentle pressure to my clit.
He smiles when a gasp falls from my throat, my hips lifting off the bed to search out more of his touch.
“Jesus Christ, look at you,” he says reverently, bending to kiss me, working his way down my body, warm lips kissing a path along my jaw, down my neck, over my collarbone.
Lips closing over one nipple, then the other, roughing his tongue over the tender peaks.
His big hands roam my body, touching every inch of bare skin tenderly, reverently, as if he’s claiming it all for his own.
And god, I want to give it to him.
Moving lower, Tyler presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to my stomach, his hands sliding up my sides and back down again, moving around my back, down to my ass, touching every part of me he can reach.
He moans against my skin, his face pressed into my belly, and my fingers tangle in his hair, wanting him to go faster, move lower, before I lose my goddamn mind.
“Patience, Soph,” Tyler mutters against my skin. “I want to take my time with you.”
“Do you have to?” I practically gasp, as his fingers play along my waistband, dipping beneath to sweep along my hipbone in a maddening rhythm.
Arousal pools between my legs, and my body vibrates with need even though he’s barely even touched me.
At the rate he’s going, I’ll burst into flames long before we get to the good part.
“Oh, I have to,” Tyler says with a smirk before sliding lower, dragging his nose over the center of my underwear.
“Holy shit.” My body bows up as I suck in a sharp breath.
“God, the way you smell,” he mumbles. “I can’t get enough.” He does it again, one hand curling into the waistband to pull it out and let it snap back against my hip, and the whole thing is a little playful and a lot dirty and absolutely scorching hot.
And when he finally slides my underwear over my hips, yanking them down my legs and off, and then brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply and groaning, his eyes dropping closed, I have ascended to another plane of existence. Or non-existence.
Did I think my best friend turned love of my damn life literally sniffing my underwear like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever smelled would incinerate my bones?
I did not. But I learn something new every single time I fuck this football god, so good fucking bye and RIP me.
Here lies Sophie Sullivan, killed absolutely, completely dead by Tyler Hansley and the filthiest fucking sex move of all time.
Dropping the underwear to the floor, Tyler falls to his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart and staring down at the place where I’m dripping for him.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, bending to kiss the inside of my thigh, his lips dragging higher and higher as his thumbs trace the crease of my leg.
“Fuck,” I cry out, my hips rocketing off the bed as his lips meet my clit.
Tyler immediately presses his hand to my stomach, holding me in place as his tongue traces a lazy path through my slit, flicking my clit before sucking it into his mouth, making stars burst behind my eyes.
“That feels so goddamn good.” I gasp, the pleasure slamming into me so fast my hands fly down to grip Tyler’s hair so I don’t levitate off the bed.
“You taste so goddamn good,” Tyler says against my skin, and the vibration of his words has me close to coming entirely undone.
Then he dips his head and devours me, taking me in rough strokes of his tongue through my slit and the pulse of his lips around my clit, his tongue dipping inside me over and over until I think I might go insane.
He adds his fingers, two of them circling my entrance before slipping inside, his tongue flicking my clit in a rhythm that makes me crazy with need.
“Holy shit, don’t stop,” I grit out, letting out a frustrated noise when I try to grind up against his face, but I can’t move with the way his hand is still pressing me down.
“Never,” Tyler mumbles, curling his fingers up and smiling against me when I let out a garbled scream. “I’ll never fucking stop.”
Tyler strokes me from the inside as he licks my clit, his fingers and tongue moving in the same mind-bending rhythm, and when he wraps his lips against my clit and sucks, moaning against me, he hurls me straight over the edge.
My head spins as I come, my breath clogging in my lungs as my mind fractures into a million pieces.
I spin through the vortex of pleasure, needy whimpers reaching the edges of my consciousness, and it takes me a few seconds to realize the sounds are coming from me.
Tyler slows his fingers, lightens the pressure of his tongue, sticking with me as I come slowly back to myself.
When I glance down, my eyes meet Tyler’s and holy shit. His lips are shiny with my arousal and his hair is a mess from my hands. The mix of wonder and awe on his perfect face as he stares at me has my ebbing pleasure turning to a needy, pulsing want.
“That was… You are…” Tyler shakes his head, as if to clear it. “Fuck, Sophie,” he says, standing up and stripping off his shirt. “I need to be inside you.”
I smirk at him, spreading my legs farther apart.
“Then get inside me, football guy.” Tyler grins at me—the reminder of where this all began.
Then he shoves his pants and boxers down and frees his erection, wrapping his hand around it and stroking from base to the swollen, leaking tip.
“I dreamed about you last night,” he says, crawling over me until we’re face to face.
He wraps a hand around my throat and dips his head, kissing me with a deep, firm thrust of his tongue.
“What did you dream about?” I manage, tangling my fingers in his hair and bringing his mouth back to mine.
Dropping his hips, he rocks against me, his cock pulsing as it slides through my slit.
“I dreamed about being with you, just like this.” He reaches up and takes one of my hands, winding our fingers together and pressing our joined hands to the bed right next to my head.
“You under me, watching as I slid inside you, as I fucked you like you were mine. Because you are, Sophie.” He rocks his hips, and when his cock slides over my entrance, we both moan. “You’re fucking mine.”
“Show me,” I say, reaching between us and wrapping my free hand around his cock, guiding him to me.