by Jenika Snow
I knew exactly what Rooney was doing as he took me inside.
And it wasn’t just to get out of the heat.
Rooney had us in the bedroom we shared when we were at the clubhouse in seconds flat. He shut the door and I took a step back, our bed stopping my retreat, my heart racing and adrenaline pumping through my veins. I anticipated this, knew that he’d definitely make me even hotter than I already was.
“Strip for me,” he demanded at the same time he started taking his clothes off, his focus on me, this intense, dominant look on his face.
And I did just that, getting out of my clothes faster than I ever had before. Then I stood there naked, letting him get his fill of me, his gaze raking over my body.
“Don’t make me wait,” I whispered, and he let out this low growl before striding up to me. Then he had me in his arms, both of us falling to the bed, his mouth on mine.
He slammed his mouth down on mine at the same time he wedged his body between my legs. God, he was so hard, so thick and long. I gasped and he groaned.
“Fuck me,” I moaned.
He reached between our bodies, grabbed his cock, and aligned it at my pussy. Then he pulled back and stared right in my eyes. Rooney started fucking me in long, hard strokes. I felt my pleasure climbing, felt my orgasm rise up.
“God, yes,” I cried out, gripping his back, clawing at him as I felt myself fall over the edge.
“You’re mine.” His words were low, gruff. “It’s you and me against the world, baby.” He leaned in and kissed me softly, passionately. “Mine,” he muttered against my mouth.
Yes, yes I was.
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